<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYARHk4eCp7ImA9WhRbEkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293</id><updated>2012-02-03T10:19:05.730-08:00</updated><title>The Face You Never See-Artoom23</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23" /><feedburner:info uri="thefaceyouneversee-artoom23" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQGQ3g_cSp7ImA9Wx9UFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-2255842261326369418</id><published>2011-02-12T01:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-12T01:18:42.649-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-02-12T01:18:42.649-08:00</app:edited><title>Leaving a Mark</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.smithclass.org/what/mystery06-07.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.smithclass.org/what/mystery06-07.JPG" width="222" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A hero is not someone who can leap tall buildings in a single bound, shoot heat beams out of his eyes, fly faster than a speeding bullet, or even have unparalleled strength. Most people when they look at this statue may simply think...it's a statue of Superman made by some crazy fan somewhere in Metropolis, Illinois...and&amp;nbsp; you might not be entirely wrong...after all...there are some crazy folks out there. But what people might need a little help understanding is that this statue has nothing to do with Superman at all. Superman has and will always be more than just your average comic book superhero, but he is a hero to all people around the world...even to the people who may hate on him or barely know anything about him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Superman didn't always fight aliens from other worlds or save the Earth from cosmic rays and meteors...at one time...he was a simple social activist fighting injustice against crooked businessmen, politicians, and destroying dangerous run-down tenements. He was truly a hero for the people...and his origin came at a time of great need. Originally created in 1932 and widely known in 1938, Superman was a symbol for "Truth, Justice, and the American Way". During one of America's darkest days, Superman was created to inspire hope and instill strength to those suffering in the Great Depression. Superman was more than just a cartoon...he was a role model for a world free of hatred, greed, and war showing the world his vision of a world of peace and happiness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/0b/Fleishersuperman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/0b/Fleishersuperman.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Before I go off topic completely and write Superman's biography, my point is this: Superman, although he isn't real, leaves his mark in this world. A pose, like the one above, forever linked to his braveness and his ability to stand up for what is right. His selflessness is something to marvel at as well as is his ability to inspire even those who seem to have lost hope forever. Many people might think..."Superman isn't real so why should I care about what he does in his comics or movies? This is the real world and Superman just isn't realistic."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well your right. Superman isn't real...if you try to act tough with a guy holding a gun...you might get shot so don't do that. Your not invincible and you CAN die from trying to act like a superhero. But if we take away from Superman what makes him "unrealistic", then your left with a man who believes in the goodness of the world and CHOOSES to make choices based on his own beliefs, on his own terms, with simple faith to spark his inspiration. When one tries to think about everyone thinking this way, it's almost far fetched to think it's even possible. But just like Superman, I CHOOSE to live free of hate in my heart and I CHOOSE to stand for what I believe in, as well as believing in humanity...in the thought that one day...long after I'm gone...humanity will see itself as Superman sees us....one beautiful race living on a beautiful planet...surrounded by beautiful celestial diamonds in and endless abyss of galactic wonder and amazement. Our lives...the life of our planet...the life of our universe all intertwine to create a gorgeous work of art.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This is how I choose to see my world. This is how I choose to live my life. I may never leave the atmosphere of the Earth and catch a glimpse of the infinite wonders the universe has to offer...but in my heart I know that it is there...and I am reminded every time I see this universal sign.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uCk9E6eR6Hg/SONFFEpc2NI/AAAAAAAAAAk/ecDV_yx9cCU/S1600-R/Superman-Logo_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uCk9E6eR6Hg/SONFFEpc2NI/AAAAAAAAAAk/ecDV_yx9cCU/S1600-R/Superman-Logo_001.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Superman has impacted more people than many can imagine and even admit...but it has been for the best. He is a true role model and one of the remaining few. An image that hopefully will never be tarnished or tampered with so that 100 years down the line...generations can follow his example even better than us and maybe learn to live in harmony.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-family: georgia,bookman old style,palatino linotype,book antiqua,palatino,trebuchet ms,helvetica,garamond,sans-serif,arial,verdana,avante garde,century gothic,comic sans ms,times,times new roman,serif;"&gt;We have all taken risks in the making of war.&amp;nbsp; Isn't it time that we should take risks to secure peace?&amp;nbsp; ~J. Ramsay MacDonald&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/1545920003278544293-2255842261326369418?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0z5naerOiQ26AJ5yd99v9ZKDHkc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0z5naerOiQ26AJ5yd99v9ZKDHkc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0z5naerOiQ26AJ5yd99v9ZKDHkc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0z5naerOiQ26AJ5yd99v9ZKDHkc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/0efqxDL3GP4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/2255842261326369418/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2011/02/leaving-mark.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/2255842261326369418?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/2255842261326369418?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/0efqxDL3GP4/leaving-mark.html" title="Leaving a Mark" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uCk9E6eR6Hg/SONFFEpc2NI/AAAAAAAAAAk/ecDV_yx9cCU/s72-Rc/Superman-Logo_001.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2011/02/leaving-mark.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEDQ3s5fyp7ImA9Wx9QFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-3362755873613394085</id><published>2010-12-28T22:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T22:37:52.527-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-12-28T22:37:52.527-08:00</app:edited><title>Ramo: The Hopeless Romantic</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o_8CND10BGY/TFCmfN0c30I/AAAAAAAAAc0/fv-8Qn9htaM/s1600/romantic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o_8CND10BGY/TFCmfN0c30I/AAAAAAAAAc0/fv-8Qn9htaM/s320/romantic.jpg" width="242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dear Omar,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So remember that girl I had told you about? The amazing one? The gorgeous one? The one I found to be special? She rejected me...and it sucked. She said, "I just want to be friends." No weapon in the world could have hurt me more than that. I know that you say, "If you genuinely want to make them happy...then they will be happy being made happy by you." Okay so maybe you never said those exact words but it was something along those lines. But when happens when it doesn't work? What happens when she doesn't want you to be that guy? What happens when being with her used to make you feel on top of the world...to feeling like just another guy that likes her? I thought it was something...and I was happy about it...ecstatic even...but in the end I was alone. Two days...I had two days to feel what it would be like to be with her...as someone special...as someone wanted and cared for...best two days of my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;
Ramo&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dear Ramo,&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know how you feel. You'll be fine. The pain is something that you can't avoid. You care about her and that's what happens when you really do. But keep this in mind...if your goal was to make her happy...let her be happy. Let her explore a world filled with happiness and love...give her the chance to make decisions...wrong ones...right ones....stupid ones...creative ones. I can see you were really hung up on her and I know it won't be easy but it's something that you have to do. Bask in the memory of those two days and realize at one point you were someone exceptionally special to her in that regard...but like all good things...eventually they must come to an end...unfortunately...it was sooner for you rather than later. Could you feel her disconnection? I bet you could. Could you feel her arms break away, first, from a close embrace? I bet you could. Could you feel her worried about every move you make; worried you were going to try and kiss her...worried that she would have to reject you but didn't want to hurt you? I'm positive you could. But why then did you try?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Emotions are one of the hardest things to control. I tend to keep my guard up...my walls high...and my true heart's desires hidden deep away in the catacombs of my mind...away from those who can leave bruises and scars. Less than a handful have entered this secret cave and have gotten me at my most loving and caring and emotion filled...willing to do anything for happiness. Those that have entered, however, have also gone. Before they go...they leave their mark in my heart...an everlasting symbol of one that got away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I guess I'm not being very much help...but what I want you to understand...is that this isn't a movie. She wont make a u-turn to tell you she was wrong...she won't call you in the morning to tell you that how she felt last isn't how she feels in the morning and she wants to see you...she feels how she feels...nothing more...nothing less. Respect it...honor it...and embrace the pain. Let it become something more than pain...let it evolve. Allow it to make you someone who learns from his experiences and becomes a better person. You may never be with her and I know that's an awful thought....but remember...you want her to be happy. If she's happier with someone else...then let her be. I hope you can find a way to be happy too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;
Omar&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-3362755873613394085?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZOmtqwAsTttmURqv1sjJftKpamI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZOmtqwAsTttmURqv1sjJftKpamI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZOmtqwAsTttmURqv1sjJftKpamI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ZOmtqwAsTttmURqv1sjJftKpamI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/cnMUmKV6hig" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/3362755873613394085/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/12/ramo-hopeless-romantic.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/3362755873613394085?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/3362755873613394085?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/cnMUmKV6hig/ramo-hopeless-romantic.html" title="Ramo: The Hopeless Romantic" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o_8CND10BGY/TFCmfN0c30I/AAAAAAAAAc0/fv-8Qn9htaM/s72-c/romantic.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/12/ramo-hopeless-romantic.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEQHQHo5cCp7ImA9Wx5aFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-4795064221948022678</id><published>2010-11-10T03:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-10T10:05:31.428-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-11-10T10:05:31.428-08:00</app:edited><title>A Slave to Temptation</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.whiskeysierragrafics.com/grafiken/atmosphere%20mood/Dark/moonlight%20wanderer-x.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="286" src="http://www.whiskeysierragrafics.com/grafiken/atmosphere%20mood/Dark/moonlight%20wanderer-x.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;What if you were tempted...everyday...all day? I don't mean tempted by something like a Lamborgini or some other ridiculous fantasy...but something obtainable...something personal...something special. A ghost of memories past begin to take true form and I spill my guts to this purple phantasm. I am truthful...real...and confused. I don't know what to expect (or even if I expect anything)...I don't know what I want...but I do know I don't want anyone to be hurt.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The truth may set u free...but it may destroy someone else. So what do u do? Speak truth and risk a civil war...or stay quiet and remain a slave within a prison of your secret temptations.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I choose the latter. I am the person always looking to save someone...someone who wants happiness throughout the world. So for now...I will take the pain...I will stay enslaved...I will risk my freedom for the happiness of others...just know...whoever u are...where ever u may be...my pain is nothing compared to your happiness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-4795064221948022678?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EgDFlrxPYIBEdBRChPtaqKh4NcQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EgDFlrxPYIBEdBRChPtaqKh4NcQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EgDFlrxPYIBEdBRChPtaqKh4NcQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/EgDFlrxPYIBEdBRChPtaqKh4NcQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/G8vyPt-qLzM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/4795064221948022678/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/11/slave-to-temptation.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/4795064221948022678?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/4795064221948022678?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/G8vyPt-qLzM/slave-to-temptation.html" title="A Slave to Temptation" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/11/slave-to-temptation.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcHR3kzfCp7ImA9Wx5UFUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-4358906015944926081</id><published>2010-10-20T09:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-20T09:43:56.784-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-10-20T09:43:56.784-07:00</app:edited><title>The Remedy- the Interuption: Alternate Ending</title><content type="html">Note: At the end of "Reciprocating: The Remedy" the man and woman lay in bed together wrapped in ecstasy. With that in mind...the story has a short&amp;nbsp;alternate ending with a little humor...enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She groans at the knocking, "What an awful time for a visitor."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I know",&amp;nbsp;I replied. "I'm going to go see who it is."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I get out of bed slide into a robe and proceed towards the door.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Who is it?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"The police. Open up please."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I couldn't understand why the police were at my house but I guess I was going to find out. I open the door to see two police officers standing with their hands on their holsters and I am nervous.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Is there something I can help you with officers?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Yeah we got a complaint of loud noises coming from this apartment. One of your neighbors said it sounded like domestic violence."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
-_-....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-4358906015944926081?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/edn0TNT6uOMhm3LEDZOM5TmSV_A/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/edn0TNT6uOMhm3LEDZOM5TmSV_A/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/edn0TNT6uOMhm3LEDZOM5TmSV_A/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/edn0TNT6uOMhm3LEDZOM5TmSV_A/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/FFQ9qluyi60" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/4358906015944926081/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/10/remedy-interuption-alternate-ending.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/4358906015944926081?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/4358906015944926081?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/FFQ9qluyi60/remedy-interuption-alternate-ending.html" title="The Remedy- the Interuption: Alternate Ending" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/10/remedy-interuption-alternate-ending.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEACRnw-eCp7ImA9WhZWFU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-5083574373126199030</id><published>2010-10-20T09:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-15T16:39:27.250-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-05-15T16:39:27.250-07:00</app:edited><title>Erotic Fiction- "Reciprocating: The Remedy" (Part 2)</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: red;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black;"&gt;This is a continuation of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: black;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogger.com/inuation%20of%20http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/08/foreplay-secret-to-sexy-evening.html"&gt;Foreplay: Secret to a Sexy Evening&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;If you haven't read it please click the link and read. It's always better to read in order =D.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.becomeoneflesh.com/images/brazilian-bedlock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="300" src="http://www.becomeoneflesh.com/images/brazilian-bedlock.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I open my eyes slowly to see her smiling around my waist line. I pull her up towards me and lay with her...staring into her crystal clear eyes feeling warmer as every second passes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"That was amazing." I said to her as my nose pressed up gently upon hers...my lips inches from hers and our bodies intertwined with one another.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She giggled, "Well thanks. I'm a little out of practice though. I'm glad you couldn't tell."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"What do you mean out of practice?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I don't want to talk about it. I didn't mean to bring it up." She began to slowly push away. I could feel myself losing her and I realized there was a lot about this beautiful woman I didn't know.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I pushed her back into my arms, wrapped my legs around hers and held her until she began to smile.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I really like you", I told her. "You're the most amazing woman I've met and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable in anyway. When you're ready to talk to me...I'm ready to listen."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She sighed and looked at me. She looked into my eyes like I've looked into her. I can't tell you exactly what she saw but her face brightened up after her gaze and I saw new life in her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I feel very comfortable with you", she said. "None of that would have happened otherwise. I'll tell you because I have nothing more to lose at this point." At that moment I felt a little reluctant. I thought she was going to tell me she'd been in jail for the last year or something ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"My last relationship wasn't the best. I dated him on and off for a few years. Most recently, we were dating for about a year and a half almost two...but the relationship was flawed. He was an amazing guy. Very caring, supportive, attractive, and best of all he was a great friend."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"What was the issue then?", I asked. "He sounds like a great guy."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Well the issue was..." She was reluctant to tell me. You could see the this was eating her up inside. "My ex and I weren't intimate for a long time."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"What's a long time?", I asked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hesitant she replied, "A few weeks..."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"That's not THAT bad." I hastily replied trying to comfort her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Well...It was a few weeks that quickly turned into almost a year. But for seven months straight we didn't do anything. No sex...no kissing...no touching." I was shocked. How could a sexy girl like this be deprived of sex. Who was the asshole not making love to this gorgeous creature.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Wow...I didn't expect that. I'm sorry. I hope I'm not too forward when I ask you if he cheated on you."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Well he did before but that's not the reason he wasn't touching me." I was intrigued when she told me this. I figured if your not sleeping with this girl you at the VERY least better be hooking up with someone else.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I went through his phone. Not something I normally do but I mean after seven months...I needed some answers...and the one's he was giving me were old and tired. So when I checked his phone there were a lot of text messages to Patty. I looked at these text messages and man were they dirty. Patty was was basically telling my ex all the different positions a blow job was possible from. I got very upset and decided to call this bitch from his phone. As the phone rings I'm trying to figure out what I want to say...then all of a sudden in a deep voice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
'Hey baby. I was waiting for you to get ride of that girl and come jump on this di...'"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"ALRIGHT! I got it."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We continued to talk to each other, continued to laugh on a bed of bliss. Seeing her soft smile and her tender eyes sinks my body into comfort. All these feelings are making me thirsty.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I'm going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She responded smiling, "Yeah, some water would be great. Thanks."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked out of my bedroom, around the corner to the kitchen. As I open the door to the refrigerator, I notice ice in the freezer. I've known this girl for a few days...I might want to use the ice for another time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I grab a glass and pour some water for my parched throat. The cold water runs down my body, cooling down every inch of it until it settles in my stomach, coating it with a sense of relief. I refill the glass with water and walk back to the bedroom where she waits for me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I walk into the bedroom with her water she's out of the bed and walking over toward me...slowly...and seductively.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I changed my mind...I don't want any water...I want some cream."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My eyes opened in amazement at her forwardness...she's a keeper.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"So...you don't want the water then?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She smiles and throws the glass of water out the room and it lands softly on the carpet...the water spills everywhere. She grabs my towel and rips it from around my waste...throwing it across the room.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"You won't need that", she teases.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She slides her hands across my face and grabs the back of my head pulling my lips onto hers. I grab her her shapely ass and pick her up. Her legs wrap around mine and squeeze with her body screaming for some attention.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I lay her down on the bed slowly...lift my lips from hers...and smile.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"It's your turn."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She smiles in response and bites her lip. I begin to kiss her lips then move down to her neck...kissing and massaging her with my tongue...listening to her moans. My hands roam on her breasts and move slowly down her body...my fingers sliding down her chest...then her stomach...and around her waist...making her shiver.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My lips continue their adventure down towards her supple breasts. My lips cover her erect nipples and my tongue massages them. Her legs shake and her hands grab my head and push me further down. She knows what she wants and she wants it now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I move down...leaving kisses all over her stomach as i move in between her legs. Her legs, cold and untouched, begin to warm up as my lips begin to explore the soft skin on her thighs. From one thigh to the next, she clenches and gyrates to control her overwhelming feeling to jump up and take control of the situation, but she's mine right now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cleanly shaven, I can see the rosy color her lips hold. I massage the outside with my fingers...I hear her squeal. She begins to get very hot as her lips slowly opened and yearned for my tongue. I moved in close to taste her sweet nectar and explore her slice of heaven.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Eat me..." she moans.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can no longer deny her what she's been waiting for. My tongue moves further in between her legs, licking her soft and sensually on her thighs as it does. I can see how moist she has become...how hot and ready she is for me to taste her sex. I hold her legs apart as my tongue dives in and massages her sensitive skin. The taste of her skin and her juices are intoxicating. She bucks her hips back and forth with each flick of my&amp;nbsp; tongue. Her legs wrap around my back and my hands grasp her ample bottom from underneath. I squeeze her...she jerks her hips upwards and pushes herself even further into me. My tongue loose on a rampage...painting a mural in between her...making her sweat...making her quiver. I remove one of my soft hands from under her and slide it up her creamy skin following the heat and wetness in between her. My hand reaches its destination and aids my tongue on its quest for her bliss.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My tongue moves further up to her little pearl and my fingers slip inside her tantalizing&lt;span id="hotword"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, moist cavern. She lets out a loud yelp and firmly grabs my hair. I can hear the&amp;nbsp;whispers of&amp;nbsp;"oh my god!" turn into loud screams as&amp;nbsp;I begin to move faster and faster. I can feel her toes curl up tight...(I move faster)...her back arch...(and faster)...her eyes rolling back...(and faster)...her hands clenching...(and faster)...reaching for that peak...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"OH MY GOOOD!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can feel her body shake and tighten up for seconds as I slow down. Her body loosens up and, exhausted, she curls up on the bed giggling and smiling. I lay down behind her...wrapping my arms around her exquisite body and laying my cheek on hers. We lay together...satisfied and wrapped in ecstasy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Stay tuned for the finally of this series in months to come.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-5083574373126199030?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ECGBP2uS3iglaRfU_OyscNgM1SE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ECGBP2uS3iglaRfU_OyscNgM1SE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ECGBP2uS3iglaRfU_OyscNgM1SE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ECGBP2uS3iglaRfU_OyscNgM1SE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/7bfZ-DxZVu0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/5083574373126199030/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/10/erotic-fiction-reciprocating-remedy.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/5083574373126199030?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/5083574373126199030?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/7bfZ-DxZVu0/erotic-fiction-reciprocating-remedy.html" title="Erotic Fiction- &quot;Reciprocating: The Remedy&quot; (Part 2)" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/10/erotic-fiction-reciprocating-remedy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C08HSHw7eyp7ImA9Wx5RF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-2526418974423936948</id><published>2010-08-25T13:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T17:17:19.203-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-25T17:17:19.203-07:00</app:edited><title>The Beach</title><content type="html">The beach, for the most part, is a place to go during the summer to beat the heat and do something fun with some&lt;br/&gt;friends. That's the typical reason...I'll share with you mine.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;If you haven't figured it out by now with all my talk of nature and stuff, I love the Earth and all its beauties and hopefully will see of much of that beauty as I can before my life comes to an end. Currently I'm in Rochester, NY laying on a green towel, smoking a red hookah with a Peacoat on and a great person to hang with. Looking into the infinite ocean you realize what the world really has to offer. Working the 9-5 jobs, paying bills, and going to school can sometimes hinder you from stopping and really looking at the world we inhabit. None of the things that we have today, computers included, would be possible unless the world didn't provide us with the materials possible for it.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Looking at the ocean's movements...its push and pulls...you can escape for a moment and visualize all the mysteries and amazement that awaits for you past the horizon...beyond the sunset...beyond your daily thoughts. Expand your world...your creativity...your mind.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;As I write this on my iPhone I can see the sunset...and the moonrise. I can see the world shift from day to night. The sky to the west is painted with orange, yellow, red and pink. The sunset dims the sky for the rise of the blood moon. In the east the moon, dark red works its way up higher into the sky with each passing minute...becoming lighter in color with each second. I am truly watching life...and that it what the beach is to me...a movie theater for life beauties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br clear="all"/&gt;&lt;div class="iblogger-location-wrapper"/&gt;Mobile Blogging from &lt;a class="iblogger-location" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?ll=43.2380,-77.6229"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="iblogger-footer"&gt;&lt;br clear="all"/&gt;&lt;p style="text-align:right;font-size:10px;"&gt;[Posted with &lt;a href="http://illuminex.com/iBlogger/index.html"&gt;iBlogger&lt;/a&gt; from my iPhone]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-2526418974423936948?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tcoM8hWH7HSgPTvrUFBBP_SSuG4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tcoM8hWH7HSgPTvrUFBBP_SSuG4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tcoM8hWH7HSgPTvrUFBBP_SSuG4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tcoM8hWH7HSgPTvrUFBBP_SSuG4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/_i0Idm8N4BE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/2526418974423936948/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/08/beach.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/2526418974423936948?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/2526418974423936948?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/_i0Idm8N4BE/beach.html" title="The Beach" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/08/beach.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0ABR344eSp7ImA9Wx5XFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-2577152352106916986</id><published>2010-08-03T10:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-13T13:29:16.031-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-09-13T13:29:16.031-07:00</app:edited><title>Foreplay- The Secret to a Sexy Evening (Part 1)</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.prlog.org/10093047-deeper-touch-erotic-hypnosis-can-improve-low-sex-desire-naturally-permanently.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="266" src="http://www.prlog.org/10093047-deeper-touch-erotic-hypnosis-can-improve-low-sex-desire-naturally-permanently.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
We laugh from our night out together. I take her back to my place to end the night smoothly. I wasn't 100% sure which way I should go about initiating the end of the night event but I figured she was expecting a little sensualism. She probably figured I would go in, have her sit on the couch, dim the lights, get a bottle of wine and enjoy the night. I had a different approach.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
*CRASH*&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I grab her and pin her into my wall shattering the mirror next to me. She moans with excitement and surprise. She flips me around and pins me to the wall. I laugh and she smiles and says,  "You thought you were the only rough one?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I did...but now I'm glad I'm not.", I responded. She smiles back at me and pushes up against me and begins to massage my lips with her own. I run my hands down her stomach and wrap around her soft butt. I squeeze her...she moans. She nibbles on my bottom lip and I thrust her body further into mine. She picks one leg up and wraps it around my thigh. I grab the leg lift it slightly and run my hand down her leg, up her thigh and in between her legs. I rub her skin and massage around her vagina slowly...easing her into comfort. Her lips break away from mine. She squirms and moans deeply. Her eyes closed, drowning in ecstasy, while she bites her lip to keep from screaming.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My hand moves to her lace panties and teases her. I rub her softly and slowly through her underwear. My hand goes deeper and pulls her panties to the side and feels the heat coming from in between. My hands on the bottom of her ass rub on her soft lips. She gasps slightly and moans. She grabs the back of my head and pulls me toward her. She finds comfort and control in my lips. She kisses me while she makes her soft noises and rocks her hips back and forth. Her body is screaming for more...so I give it to her. I thrust my finger into her warm, wet center. She yelps and bites her lips. Her face so close to mine I hear her moaning, "Oh yeah!" I massage the inside, around the soft walls and deep inside. One of her hands leaves my head and slides down to my pants. My erect "partner in crime" has been suffocating in his cage...now he's going to be let out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She rubs the bulge in my pants slowly and firmly. Her warm soft hands creep in between my belt and work their way down my pants and onto my erect penis. She firmly grabs the shaft and rubs it soft and slow. The heat from her hand turns me on and we are both touching each other and we're ready to fuck.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I take her hand out of my pants...I remove my hand from in between her legs. My hands grasp her ample butt and lift her in the air. As I walk towards the bedroom our lips interlock again. She passionately squeezes my body, yearning to be naked and out of the restrains called "clothes". I toss her on the bed and see her on her back and look at her eyes. With a seductive look in her eye and her juicy lips yearning for more...I creep up on the bed slowly...kissing her pedicured feet, then her silky soft legs, then her warm thighs. I sneak in between her legs and teasingly lick her wetness over her soaked panties. She shivers as my tongue massages over her area...and I slowly work my tongue up towards her waist. I begin to kiss her soft, flat stomach while my hands reach her breasts and rub them. I pull the dress off her luscious body leaving her in her sexy lace lingerie.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She sits up...grabs me and flips me&lt;br /&gt;
around. Now I'm on the bottom while she takes control. She rips my buttoned shirt off and unbuckles my belt. She smiles slyly at me and begins to kiss me. While straddling me, she unbuttons and unzips my pants. She removes my pants and leaves me in my boxer briefs. She flips my boxer briefs over and out pops her play toy. Her eyes widen at the sight of it and she smiles. She begins to creep further down my body until she reaches the dessert she's been waiting for.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Her mouth feels warm and soft against my shaft. Her tongue massaging the head of my erect masculinity and driving me wild. I grab her hair and follow her heads motions. She runs her hands up my chest and stomach and scratches on her way down. The feeling left me cringing for control.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She begins to move faster and harder. She begins to use her hands along with her mouth and I can barely take it. The waves are rushing through my body and I begin to tingle all over. She makes small moans with each thrust in her mouth and I can hold it in no longer. "Oh shit!"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Perfection.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Stay tuned for part 2 "The Remedy"..the girl needs some loving too right? =P)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="iblogger-footer"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="font-size: 10px; text-align: right;"&gt;[Posted with &lt;a href="http://illuminex.com/iBlogger/index.html"&gt;iBlogger&lt;/a&gt; from my iPhone]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-2577152352106916986?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iofTb-QwZMR78RAyUAT4tu3XG0c/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iofTb-QwZMR78RAyUAT4tu3XG0c/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iofTb-QwZMR78RAyUAT4tu3XG0c/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iofTb-QwZMR78RAyUAT4tu3XG0c/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/y-jjNHptAug" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/2577152352106916986/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/08/foreplay-secret-to-sexy-evening.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/2577152352106916986?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/2577152352106916986?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/y-jjNHptAug/foreplay-secret-to-sexy-evening.html" title="Foreplay- The Secret to a Sexy Evening (Part 1)" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/08/foreplay-secret-to-sexy-evening.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkACRH44cCp7ImA9Wx5TFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-1528060674827570770</id><published>2010-08-01T11:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-01T11:52:45.038-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-01T11:52:45.038-07:00</app:edited><title>Hypocrisy</title><content type="html">To those of you that read my blog a lot, I apologize for not having written in a while. There have just been moments of fatigue for me and like Niche said, "even the strongest have their moments of fatigue" and boy have I been fucking fatigued.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yesterday I was talking with a friend of memories past and thinking of my high school days. Boy did some shit come out. We talked about my earlier life in middle school, junior high, and high school. In middle school and junior high I was short and kinda round. I wasn't exactly the guy girls would look at and be like, "OMG he's so cute. Do you think he likes me?" I was more the guy girls would talk to and say, "OMG...everyone else but you is soo cute. Do you think any of them like me?" It was hard to have real confidence when you're that young and nothing really works for you. You see everyone making out...your fat friends, your geeky friends (yup), your violent friends, and even your best friend. Everyone locked in moments of passion...and you...creepy as shit just stand there and watch and wonder why that's not you. Sigh....4th to 8th grade with that crap.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then there was high school...and this is where the conversation got interesting. When I got to high school i figured things would be different. People wouldn't really know me and the stigma of me being the short pudgy kid would go away; negative. High school was basically the same shit. Let me explain to you what my problem was. There were gangsters, drug dealers, psychopaths, and ASSHOLES in my high school. ALL of them hooked up with girls. I got my first kiss, at 14, with a girl I actually wanted to kiss...but i fucked that up. Telling someone they taste like chicken after a kiss isn't funny and doesn't help the mood so kids...don't do that shit. What used to really annoy me is the guys that were the biggest assholes in the world getting the hottest girls in school. The reason that people call sexy girl airheads...is because of that shit. When a guy is known for being an asshole...for playing girls...for cheating on girls...for talking shit behind their backs...for blatently being someone dispicable...you probably shouldn't go out with them. Oh what's that dumb pretty girl? Oh you're already dating him? Oh he's different with you? Oh he's calling you? Ok call me back........*Ring ring* Hey that was fast. Oh he broke up with you? He cheated on you? With your best friend? And bragged about it? And your best friend didn't tell you? And your hurt because he didn't seem to care? You want me to make you feel better? FUCK YOU! You should have known what you were getting youself into because everyone told you and frankly if you didn't know what kind of guy he was...you had no business dating him and this is now your punishment. Had you gone out with a guy who doesn't do any of that shit...you'd probably be happy and smiling and if you're really lucky you could be in love but noooo that guy isn't your type. That's because your type of guy has to spit on you in order for you to like him. You enjoy yourself then.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Woo...that felt good =) That was a lot of pent up anger towards girls in general. They go out with public assholes and then complain that they weren't treated right or that they are...what's that?...oh right...ASSHOLES! The hypocrisy is that they want a good guy so bad...and yet they go for all the guys who are exciting and stab people on the weekends for kicks and giggles. I told one girl who I had a crush on this yesterday and she said...well you never stepped up and told me. My response was...would it have made a difference? Would we have dated had I told you how I felt? She had no response...because as much as people don't want to follow the norms of high school...they exist and they subliminally run many high schoolers right into the arms of guys who will simply give them the clap.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then the miracle happened...I got a real girlfriend and it felt like a real relationship at the age of 16. I tried to be the type of boyfriend I always dreamed of being. She was the first girl I bought a present for, the first to receive flowers (fake but baby steps right?) from me, the first girl I called my valentine. She was the first girl I had sex with and she was the first girl who crushed my itty bitty heart. After dating for 3 months...she decided to tell me she cheated on me with a guy from church. Wow...talk about fucked up. In the end it didn't work out...and we broke up. At that point I didn't think I was ready to be a boyfriend...and that what I had to offer required me to find a girl that I needed to take my time with. Get to know her and figure out what I want. I'm no where near done but some responses would be great. I'll finish this later. Gotta organize some more thoughts. This is a amuse bouche of what is yet to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-1528060674827570770?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xgMlGHVnuM8C4d4M_z43_lY7eJk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xgMlGHVnuM8C4d4M_z43_lY7eJk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xgMlGHVnuM8C4d4M_z43_lY7eJk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xgMlGHVnuM8C4d4M_z43_lY7eJk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/FOJm1qvmuj4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/1528060674827570770/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/08/hypocrisy.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/1528060674827570770?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/1528060674827570770?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/FOJm1qvmuj4/hypocrisy.html" title="Hypocrisy" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/08/hypocrisy.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE8CSHY5fSp7ImA9WxFbEUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-1165915875758639016</id><published>2010-07-02T17:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T17:27:49.825-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-07-02T17:27:49.825-07:00</app:edited><title>Movie Review: The Last Airbender</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://retaliators.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/last_airbender_movie_poster_international_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://retaliators.files.wordpress.com/2010/01/last_airbender_movie_poster_international_01.jpg" width="216" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Everyone has been asking about this movie and heard that it wasn't that good but won't believe it because it looks amazing. Let's clear this all up right now. The reason it looks amazing is because it does. The special effects are amazing. All the elements and the bending was amazing. Appa looked great in "realistic CG", Momo look really cool too. Avatar state was pretty sick although i wish his eyes were open and not closed so we could see more blue light but that's just a little gripe. I'll put it in terms everyone can understand: The Last Airbender was a sexy 22 year old girl with a banging body who has a Pre-K education.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am a huge fan of the show. It is rare to find a show today that combines teamwork, heart, courage, and great action all in one without it being corny. The show was amazing and if you haven't seen it...SHAME ON YOU! The show really isn't just for kids and has a great story to it. One of the things that made the show amazing was the premise and how in depth the story really went in immersing you into the world of bending. The characters and story were so iconic you really could visualize or relate to the story on a personal level. The show also included great twists and turns in it that kept everyone on edge and excited to see what happens next. Everything of what was right with the TV show...was wrong with the movie.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I understand that a movie cannot bring the exact same feel to the big screen. There is no way in hell that 20 half hour episodes would completely and seamlessly translate into a two hour movie (maybe three hours but you need James Cameron for that). I can appreciate that because you can't fit everything into one movie you must change around some things. I can also appreciate that we can't see Aang or Katara or anyone of the benders bending in every scene at all times like we did on the show. That's WAY too much money. These are all things that must be taken into account when watching any "live action" movie version of ANYTHING. With all that said...M. Night Shyamalan really dropped the ball.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
If you were a fan or at least watched the show you'll know that one of the greatest things about the show was the comradery and the group dynamic that Aang, Soka, Kitara, Appa and Momo had. There was NONE of that in this movie. They were together for maybe...20min of the movie. While watching the movie, it felt really rushed. They fast forwarded through fight scenes sometimes, did a lot of voice over narration and simply didn't connect any of the characters together. The only two characters that had a deep connection that you felt were Soka and Princess Yuei and I really think that's only because they kissed. There were simply too many holes and too many flaws to really put a recommendation into the movie. Not to mention that the 3D was a gimmick. If your making a movie in 3D then start it in 3D. Don't convert it afterwords because that's the thing to do. It's annoying and your shitting on your own movie. 3D is not worth it. If you have nothing else to watch I guess check it out but frankly...you should rent it from the $1 boxes at the grocery store because it's not worth full price. I feared this was going to happen with Shymalan as the director but I had high hopes. My hopes were shattered. I feel like a fat kid who was excited at seeing an Ice Cream store...stopped at it...and found out the ice cream had all melted and spoiled. I left the theater upset and pensive about what were the good parts about the movie and all I could think of was...seeing Appa in CG and the bending. Nothing else was really good. Worst of all...had that not been based on a TV show...the movie still would not have been that good. Sigh...How depressing. It was a HIGHLY anticipated movie that was shot to hell. Save your money and you save your souls. Don't go see this movie in theaters...period.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
PS. If you watched the show...you know what happens at the Northern Water Tribe against the Fire Nation. Yeah...not so much in the movie. It was something I wanted to see but got robbed again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Any questions or further elaboration don't hesitate to comment or message.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-1165915875758639016?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ukaXwTRz17eWiI1UjCBV0YpuDlM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ukaXwTRz17eWiI1UjCBV0YpuDlM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ukaXwTRz17eWiI1UjCBV0YpuDlM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ukaXwTRz17eWiI1UjCBV0YpuDlM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/QyVQbZb06Hw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/1165915875758639016/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/07/movie-review-last-airbender.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/1165915875758639016?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/1165915875758639016?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/QyVQbZb06Hw/movie-review-last-airbender.html" title="Movie Review: The Last Airbender" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/07/movie-review-last-airbender.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A08EQHw8fCp7ImA9WxFUGU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-4797447823709623016</id><published>2010-06-30T16:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T16:16:41.274-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-30T16:16:41.274-07:00</app:edited><title>Donation</title><content type="html">I got my first donation today for $40. Thank you to that person. You have officially made my writing feel like it's going somewhere. =) I will continue to write to my heart's content and I will also be starting a YouTube channel for movie reviews. Please make sure you are all following me here on blogspot and when the youtube channel is ready ill link it here. Any suggestions please don't hesitate to email me at movieman1213@gmail.com.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
-Artoom&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-4797447823709623016?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6pEoZHBMUUrvTeunToj29C-OmzU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6pEoZHBMUUrvTeunToj29C-OmzU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6pEoZHBMUUrvTeunToj29C-OmzU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/6pEoZHBMUUrvTeunToj29C-OmzU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/a14FiY5sIIk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/4797447823709623016/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/06/donation_30.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/4797447823709623016?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/4797447823709623016?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/a14FiY5sIIk/donation_30.html" title="Donation" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/06/donation_30.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcERnwzfSp7ImA9WxFUFk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-7000501320032365975</id><published>2010-06-26T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T19:33:27.285-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-26T19:33:27.285-07:00</app:edited><title>Life: Realism Lived in Abstraction</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/TCa0bSbqCLI/AAAAAAAAAB4/HNzeyvE_9kI/s1600/abstract.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/TCa0bSbqCLI/AAAAAAAAAB4/HNzeyvE_9kI/s320/abstract.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My life, or what I choose to take with me, is in this Photo Journal. My life didn’t begin to change until the end of high school and boy did it change. With the end of high school brought the beginning of college and I knew things would never be the same. This is not the end or even a complete journal...but these were pictures I found and marked eras in my life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/TCa0xGepxbI/AAAAAAAAACA/zU9tdllf61I/s1600/friends+from+high+school.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/TCa0xGepxbI/AAAAAAAAACA/zU9tdllf61I/s320/friends+from+high+school.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
A picture of memories of long ago…of a time with no responsibilities and no difficult choices. Where days were riddled with questions like, “Does Jane like John?” and “Where is our field trip too?” Innocent ignorance blankets the world of high school and its wonderful memories.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/TCa03Lfl0_I/AAAAAAAAACI/QtHAxWAhnZA/s1600/graduation.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/TCa03Lfl0_I/AAAAAAAAACI/QtHAxWAhnZA/s320/graduation.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A day of celebration, a day of mourning &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A life lived for four years brought to a halt &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
By the words, “Congratulations, you are a high school graduate” &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These days seem so far away &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These days seemed so easy &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I woke up the one morning with the question, &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Wow was I dreaming?” &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/TCa1ABcd1pI/AAAAAAAAACY/FE7rJpUteEc/s1600/memories+of+love.png"&gt;&lt;img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/TCa1ABcd1pI/AAAAAAAAACY/FE7rJpUteEc/s320/memories+of+love.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
College is new and so much is happening &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I took one look at her and went right to smiling &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She looked at me with her warm eyes &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thawed a heart from the deepest abyss of pain &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Took my head with her soft sensual hands and with &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One kiss from her soft lips…I was in love.&lt;span style="color: #1f497d;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/TCa07GjMYLI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Nrj-oBNNJns/s1600/Wedding.png"&gt;&lt;img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/TCa07GjMYLI/AAAAAAAAACQ/Nrj-oBNNJns/s320/Wedding.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Another year gone, another year older &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I stand by my brother’s side while his wife at his shoulder. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A whole family made from two torn apart. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A new life ahead…we’re all eager to start &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He’s the man I wish to be...type of woman too &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One day it will be me as I say to my future wife, “I love you”. &lt;br /&gt;
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/TCa1MVvyUDI/AAAAAAAAACg/BawSl5S85mQ/s1600/Maze.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/TCa1MVvyUDI/AAAAAAAAACg/BawSl5S85mQ/s320/Maze.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I know who I am and I know who I’m not but life isn’t as simple as that. This is my last picture. Time swiftly passes and as one day ends, a new one begins and so does a new topic of life. Life is ruthless and without mercy. It will not hesitate to leave you in a corner, hungry, homeless, and without a family. Which way do I go? Which way is right? Do I only get one chance? What if I mess up? Why must life be so political? Why must it be so technical? Why must the only life one leads be spent slaving to barely afford to take care of your family. When is it too late to turn back? These questions form my life maze. And for now…this is where I am. This is where I’m trapped and my freedom lies only in my prison.&lt;span style="color: #1f497d;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-7000501320032365975?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h3NOsLDy4OghzOe19xh76flnG8U/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h3NOsLDy4OghzOe19xh76flnG8U/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h3NOsLDy4OghzOe19xh76flnG8U/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/h3NOsLDy4OghzOe19xh76flnG8U/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/J5-xSwn2lJ4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/7000501320032365975/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/06/life-realism-lived-in-abstraction.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/7000501320032365975?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/7000501320032365975?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/J5-xSwn2lJ4/life-realism-lived-in-abstraction.html" title="Life: Realism Lived in Abstraction" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/TCa0bSbqCLI/AAAAAAAAAB4/HNzeyvE_9kI/s72-c/abstract.png" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/06/life-realism-lived-in-abstraction.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4MRno4eip7ImA9Wx5TF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-3120636250042197887</id><published>2010-06-19T08:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T18:29:47.432-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-02T18:29:47.432-07:00</app:edited><title>Assumptions: Tears of Lovers</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i32.tinypic.com/2ytp4r5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="232" src="http://i32.tinypic.com/2ytp4r5.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;b&gt;HIM &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;It rains. I stand on her lawn looking  up. Water drops smack my head outside of her house. I love her. She  hates me. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;She looks outside. My body get wetter and darker each second I am alone. She gazes out the window deep into  my eyes. I leer right back. I walk across her lawn closer to her second story window. I look directly up at her and endure the  barrage of water bombarding my eyes. My eyes are submerged in water  and everything looks wet. Her eyes look wet...but she is inside. The rain isn't making her eyes wet…sadness is. She misses me. I miss her. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I  mouth, “I love you”. She does nothing but stare. I move closer to her  house feeling the soft, wet Earth bend to my heartbroken feet. The Earth cushions my hard steps and supports my love. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;“Baby,  please! You’re the only woman in the world I want to spend my life  with!” She is silent. She is not human. No human could watch my heart bleed for love and stay silent. She moves. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;She walks away from her window. My heart shatters. It is no longer bleeding. I am no longer in pain. I am numb. My heart doesn’t concern her. I came to fix our love and instead I leave a man no longer capable of love. My heart  belongs to her. She has taken it and stomped on it with stiletto heels.  She will have her wish. I will leave. I will free her from my burden. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;It’s  cold. I walk back across the lawn. I feel unbalanced. I am unbalanced. I  fall over and smash my face into the floor. I pick my head up and look  around. My foot suck into the ground. The Earth gave up on me too. I pick  myself up. I am wet, cold, heartbroken, numb, and now dirty all for a girl who wants to stare…not love. My head down, I walk down the reliable, hard concrete. Face streaming with small rivers of rain and tears. She broke up with me. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;b&gt;HER &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I  love him. He is the man I love. I am scared of losing that love. He thinks I am perfect. I am not. He thinks we are meant for each other. He is meant for someone better than me. I look outside at him wet in the rain and I don’t know what to say. He stares at me mouthing I love you. He lies. He can’t love someone like me. I am not beautiful. I am not smart.  I am not funny. I am flawed. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;He’s getting closer to my house. I think he's going to my door but I will meet him. He looks so sad. I am not worthy of these tears. He should be with someone more beautiful.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I can’t wait to see his beautiful face. I want to hold him. I want to marry him. I must apologize. I should have said something to him. I just stared. Gosh I'm so stupid. He’ll understand because he loves me. He is amazing. He is waiting for me. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I open the door and...wait...where...where is he? I walk outside in the rain. It’s cold. I'm cold. He left me. He did what I knew he would do. He moved on. He is in love  with someone else, someone better than me.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;My heart yearns for his. The rain makes me heavy. My heart fills with sadness and drains the heat from my  body. I am cold. I am alone. My skin is wet. The rain washes my face clear of the glossy tears. I will not hold him…I will not marry him…I will never see him again. He broke up with me.&lt;div class="iblogger-footer"&gt;&lt;br clear="all"/&gt;&lt;p style="text-align:right;font-size:10px;"&gt;[Posted with &lt;a href="http://illuminex.com/iBlogger/index.html"&gt;iBlogger&lt;/a&gt; from my iPhone]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-3120636250042197887?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9PPFmydrGHpvApmyFqEq5tmXAd4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9PPFmydrGHpvApmyFqEq5tmXAd4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9PPFmydrGHpvApmyFqEq5tmXAd4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/9PPFmydrGHpvApmyFqEq5tmXAd4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/ZO5N_il0pFg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/3120636250042197887/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/06/assumptions-tears-of-lovers.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/3120636250042197887?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/3120636250042197887?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/ZO5N_il0pFg/assumptions-tears-of-lovers.html" title="Assumptions: Tears of Lovers" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://i32.tinypic.com/2ytp4r5_th.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/06/assumptions-tears-of-lovers.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYNQHo4eSp7ImA9WxFVE0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-7514478038523437172</id><published>2010-06-11T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T21:33:11.431-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-11T21:33:11.431-07:00</app:edited><title>Donation</title><content type="html">I just put up a new donation button on my page. Its at the bottom of the page below the "table of contents". If you like what you read and can offer a donation I would be most appreciative of it. =) I'm a poor college student looking to continue writing and entertaining those of you who like my page. If not thanks for reading anyway and make sure you are clicking the "follow" button and commenting on my posts. Thanks again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
-Artoom&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-7514478038523437172?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KefCZH9-KLaxiUUQksdLyJ4lR64/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KefCZH9-KLaxiUUQksdLyJ4lR64/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KefCZH9-KLaxiUUQksdLyJ4lR64/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/KefCZH9-KLaxiUUQksdLyJ4lR64/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/0-i4nWIxyBE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/7514478038523437172/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/06/donation.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/7514478038523437172?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/7514478038523437172?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/0-i4nWIxyBE/donation.html" title="Donation" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/06/donation.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04BSXszfip7ImA9WxFVE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-2914808100155998595</id><published>2010-06-11T18:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T18:25:58.586-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-11T18:25:58.586-07:00</app:edited><title>Living in Regret</title><content type="html">There was a man who had a wife. She was beautiful from head to toe. He was a poor candle maker and found it very hard to live comfortably. One day his wife becomes pregnant and they rejoice. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“We are going to have a baby!” said the wife.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Yes! I can barely believe it. Hopefully a beautiful boy! We make room for the baby. He will need clothes, food…a crib……constant attention.” The more the man thought about a baby, the more he realized how expensive one will be. He already had no money and with a new mouth to feed, it was a matter of time before he was in debt. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The next day, the man set out to sell his beautiful candles in the market to hopefully make some money. The market was full of men and women selling goods to people who could afford it. He tried to sell his candles but had awful business sense. He made gorgeous candles but ended up going home with less money than he started out with in his pocket.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“How did it go honey?”, asked the wife.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Awful. I have nothing to show for a day wasted at that blasted market! If only I knew what I was doing wrong!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“It’ll get better sweetheart. I know it will.” The man’s wife laid her head on his shoulder and gave him a hug. He shrugged her off.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“NO! It won’t just get better! We have a baby coming and I can barely support us! You should have just married a duke or a prince.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“But then I wouldn’t be in love.” said, the calm wife. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Well I’m not in love! I’m living each day with worries and regret. I can no longer do this.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The man looked at his wife with piercing eyes and unrelenting anger as she looked back with tears.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I’m going for a walk.” The man stormed out of the house as quickly and as angry as he had entered.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He walked and walked…and walked until his surroundings became unfamiliar.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I must have walked outside the town. How great would it be if I could just leave everything behind a simply keep walking to my heart’s content. No responsibilities and no worries in the world. That would be the greatest thing in the world. I wish I could have that.” With those words, the wind howled as it picked up and dust attacked the man and created a figure of a man next to him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Ahh…So you want to be free?” Said the sly dust man.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“What!? Who are you?” screamed the frightened man.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Of course, my apologizes. I am Terger. I can help you with your problem. I am a powerful sorcerer and I can help you leave your responsibilities behind.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I couldn’t leave my wife. She would be devastated.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“She won’t know. I’ll make it so you never existed and you can go on about your life living it the way you want.” Terger waved his hand around creating sparkles in the sky trying to impress the conflicted candle maker.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Really? What do you want in return?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I want you to simply live your life and be happy.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Hmm…that sounds kind of fishy. Really. What’s the catch?” asked the suspicious man.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“No catch. You will live as if you never existed and I shall live as your opposite.” The sly Terger grinned as he said this and had his hands up…waiting to execute his magic.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I need to know that my wife will be okay.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Don’t worry. Your wife will be well taken care of. [Ha ha…]”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Well then. Let’s do it!” the man smiled with joy as his dream of a life with no responsibility was about to begin.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Wonderful. Here is your wish.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SHAZAM!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sparkles and twinkles lit up the sky and the man began to feel strange. He felt a loss in his world and grasping on to reality was difficult.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As the twinkles faded he began to touch his arms and legs to make sure he was in one piece.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“That felt weird.” said, the man.  “But I look okay and I feel good too.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Wonderful. I’m glad I could help. Goodbye.” Said Terger with a sly look on his face.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Wait! Will I ever see you again?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“I suppose once you discover your “true” self you will seek me out. Until then.” Terger whipped around in a circle and disappeared where he stood.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The man excited about his new life began to walk farther than he ever had.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He reached his first new city and walked in. He saw the market filled with gold, silver, food from distant lands.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“My town was poor and I never would have realized what the world had to offer until just now. Thank you Terger!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Days went by and the man saw many new things but felt strange. He did not feel as complete and satisfied as he thought he would have. He felt alone. He realized he had not talked to a single soul or slept since he met Terger. What’s more, he realized that his life was empty without the girl he loved. He left for home to ease his aching heart. When he came to the door he tried to open it, but he couldn’t.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“What is going on?” said the man.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He walked around his house and peered in through the window. There he saw a sight that made him weary. Terger was in his home with his wife. He yelled at Terger through the window.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“TERGER! COME OUT HERE YOU LIAR!”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The wife moved not an inch but Terger looked at the window and gave a cunning grin and walked outside.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Ah so you finally realized your “true” self? Did you figure out where your heart lies?”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“Yes! Please. Reverse this. I don’t want this anymore.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
“But I do. I am exactly what you believed your life to be. I was non-existant in your life until you willed me here. I am Regret…in the flesh. Now live with your wish while I live in mine.”&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The man dumbfounded by his decision walked away to see the world…alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-2914808100155998595?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rjtR8MXaY-pAZF7-Trq6TkQbQic/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rjtR8MXaY-pAZF7-Trq6TkQbQic/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rjtR8MXaY-pAZF7-Trq6TkQbQic/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/rjtR8MXaY-pAZF7-Trq6TkQbQic/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/w4YHWk6k_Hg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/2914808100155998595/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/06/living-in-regret.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/2914808100155998595?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/2914808100155998595?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/w4YHWk6k_Hg/living-in-regret.html" title="Living in Regret" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/06/living-in-regret.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEMNQn8yfSp7ImA9WxFVE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-9154429385592191982</id><published>2010-06-11T17:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T17:28:13.195-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-06-11T17:28:13.195-07:00</app:edited><title>A Hazy Dream Bringing Life Into Focus</title><content type="html">Bruce: I’m scared. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Batman: I’m not. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bruce:  How is that possible? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Batman: We are the same. We are  two sides of a whole…two faces of the same coin. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bruce:  If we are the same person…using the same mind…how can we be so  different. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Batman: We aren’t different at all. I  am…what you want to be. I am…what you need to be: an immovable object. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bruce:  I don’t know if you are who I want to be. You’re a cartoon…fiction. You  aren’t real and the things you do are impossible. How do you think we  can ever be one? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://content2.myyearbook.com/zenhex/images/quiz76/378832/378832_res1_BatmanBruceWayne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://content2.myyearbook.com/zenhex/images/quiz76/378832/378832_res1_BatmanBruceWayne.jpg" width="199" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Batman:  Look at my character. You know who I am. You saw me as a  child…imprinted me as your hero…and you still don’t know why I am your  favorite? You don’t know why after 16 years of watching me on TV and  movies and reading about me in comics and stories I have made such an  everlasting impact in your life? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bruce: (confused) I…I  don’t! Do you know what kind of loon I must be? I’m 20 years old and  still thinking about superheroes. Shouldn’t I be over this by now? Why  is this happening to me? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Batman: Calm down. Think.  Think about all that I am…think about all that you are. Since you were a  boy you’ve wanted to not be like me but why? Why like me? Think. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bruce:  You help people. But I can’t. I’m nobody. I am simply another existing  person on the planet Earth; nothing more, nothing less. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Batman:  No! You are obviously lost…but you are not “a nobody. You will always  be what you allow yourself to be. Restrict yourself to being “a nobody”  and that’s exactly what you’ll be. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bruce: I can’t be  you. I’m a scared guy who doesn’t want to face reality. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Batman:  STOP BEING SCARED! EVERYONE DEALS WITH REALITY DIFFERENTLY! You have my  help. Now…Who am I? Take away the cape and the cowl and look at my  character. Tell me who I am! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bruce: You help people.  You are strong. You are fearless. You fight for those who can’t. You  stand up for justice, equality, and truth. You are vengeance…you are the  night…you are Batman. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Batman: That’s right. If that’s  what I am…that must also be…who you are. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bruce:  You’re right. I know now. We are two opposed sides. We are incomplete.  Separate we are two extremes. I am too weak…and you are too headstrong  and aggressive. Together we complete each other. Together we are strong  and immovable. Together…we are ME.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b170/Nervousdogdance/Batman/ChristianBale-Batman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b170/Nervousdogdance/Batman/ChristianBale-Batman.jpg" width="213" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(Wakes  Up) &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Omar: (Drowsy) Was I just Bruce Wayne? That’s  going to be an interesting story to write about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-9154429385592191982?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sDsryu0psGD5XU8v402BhymCwCw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sDsryu0psGD5XU8v402BhymCwCw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sDsryu0psGD5XU8v402BhymCwCw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sDsryu0psGD5XU8v402BhymCwCw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/m_Id2HKp33o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/9154429385592191982/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/06/hazy-dream-bringing-life-into-focus.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/9154429385592191982?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/9154429385592191982?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/m_Id2HKp33o/hazy-dream-bringing-life-into-focus.html" title="A Hazy Dream Bringing Life Into Focus" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://i19.photobucket.com/albums/b170/Nervousdogdance/Batman/th_ChristianBale-Batman.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/06/hazy-dream-bringing-life-into-focus.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEAARXozcSp7ImA9WxFWEEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-8133097794941958690</id><published>2010-05-28T18:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T18:32:24.489-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-28T18:32:24.489-07:00</app:edited><title>Car Rides</title><content type="html">If you've ever had good friends you'll know what I'm about to talk about. Simply sitting in a car outside someones house...with the music turned up singing "Lady Antebellum" (ugh) can be extremely fun. If you need the ingredients for a good time here they are:&lt;br/&gt;1. Good friends: this means that you can be yourself around them and do stupid shit. Normally, doing stupid shit...people stare laugh and that's cool...but great friends...unique friends...they join you =)&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;If you were expecting a long list of things you need to have a good time then you need to evaluate your meaning of a good time. You know you have good friends when you do nothing...your doing something. Keep that in mind.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Sometimes I feel like I have two lives: one in buffalo and one in NYC...but thanks to my great friends everwhere I feel like myself all the time.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Inspiration for this post came from the current car ride in progress with Hadie, Chery and Daisy...but to the rest of my true friends...your a big part of my sanity and a neccessity in life. &lt;div class="iblogger-footer"&gt;&lt;br clear="all"/&gt;&lt;p style="text-align:right;font-size:10px;"&gt;[Posted with &lt;a href="http://illuminex.com/iBlogger/index.html"&gt;iBlogger&lt;/a&gt; from my iPhone]&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-8133097794941958690?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/W5IZsQrF76TeE_9r-jtsRow2x08/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/W5IZsQrF76TeE_9r-jtsRow2x08/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/W5IZsQrF76TeE_9r-jtsRow2x08/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/W5IZsQrF76TeE_9r-jtsRow2x08/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/ewrK1yWAYA8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/8133097794941958690/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/05/car-rides.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/8133097794941958690?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/8133097794941958690?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/ewrK1yWAYA8/car-rides.html" title="Car Rides" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/05/car-rides.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4MQ3c-eSp7ImA9WxFXEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-6694446314553977151</id><published>2010-05-18T13:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T14:09:42.951-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-18T14:09:42.951-07:00</app:edited><title>AMAZING FAN ART PAINTING!</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://images.gfxartist.com/images/ArtworkItem/full/183204.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://images.gfxartist.com/images/ArtworkItem/full/183204.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs27/f/2008/183/4/1/41d7b7b25b3e51ba48aa81974be4a0b3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="332" src="http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs27/f/2008/183/4/1/41d7b7b25b3e51ba48aa81974be4a0b3.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://images.gfxartist.com/images/ArtworkItem/full/169097.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="332" src="http://images.gfxartist.com/images/ArtworkItem/full/169097.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://images.gfxartist.com/images/ArtworkItem/full/183205.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://images.gfxartist.com/images/ArtworkItem/full/183205.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
You all know that I am a huge Batman fan. I saw these pictures and HAD to put them up. The artists name is Andy Jones from the UK. He is an extremely talented artist and this is his &lt;a href="http://andy--jones.gfxartist.com/artworks/183204"&gt;website&lt;/a&gt;. Go check him out and give him his props. Amazing job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-6694446314553977151?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-xGxHa4UxKBlpQFEYTuMKxGy-_4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-xGxHa4UxKBlpQFEYTuMKxGy-_4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-xGxHa4UxKBlpQFEYTuMKxGy-_4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-xGxHa4UxKBlpQFEYTuMKxGy-_4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/xp8t9V4LEuE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/6694446314553977151/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/05/amazing-fan-art-painting.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/6694446314553977151?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/6694446314553977151?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/xp8t9V4LEuE/amazing-fan-art-painting.html" title="AMAZING FAN ART PAINTING!" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/05/amazing-fan-art-painting.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkMARXs4cSp7ImA9WxFXEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-1524131805486169210</id><published>2010-05-18T13:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T13:27:24.539-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-18T13:27:24.539-07:00</app:edited><title>Thank You</title><content type="html">I started this blog for no reason in particular. Writing are one of the best things in my life and I will do it for the rest of my life. I know people read this from time to time...maybe not a lot but I do want to say thank you to those of you that do. I really appreciate you taking the time out of your day to read what I've written. It means a lot that your interested in what I have to say and enjoy the things that I write. Please don't be afraid to write me, leave comments, or find me on &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/oartola"&gt;Facebook&lt;/a&gt;. I like people reading my stuff but I enjoy feedback even more. It's one thing to write...but it's another to see how it impacts people. I want to improve my writing with each piece but I need your help to do that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Once again...thank you for reading and I hope I continue to entertain you for a while. =)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
-Artoom&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-1524131805486169210?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fyyFwHDH-AlAhSfcjFQEoVfLVN4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fyyFwHDH-AlAhSfcjFQEoVfLVN4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fyyFwHDH-AlAhSfcjFQEoVfLVN4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fyyFwHDH-AlAhSfcjFQEoVfLVN4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/oJLWTnAL9r8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/1524131805486169210/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/05/thank-you.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/1524131805486169210?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/1524131805486169210?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/oJLWTnAL9r8/thank-you.html" title="Thank You" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/05/thank-you.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYMQXs_eip7ImA9WxFXEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-6228435597433376128</id><published>2010-05-18T13:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T13:23:00.542-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-18T13:23:00.542-07:00</app:edited><title>NYC</title><content type="html">Driving along the highway by yourself you have a lot of time to think. I thought about life, people I care about, and things that matter most to me (all while trying to not fall asleep). As I was performing songs by Robin Thicke, Ludacris, and the Black Eyed Peas, with a whole lot of people watching me as I sped past them, I simply wondered...what's my life look like? I know what my goals are, and what I want to do with my life...but the problem is getting there. It's something I think about from time to time, but when you're out on the road by yourself, you tend to dredge up these feelings.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With my EZpass in place, I saw the exit for the George Washington Bridge. A feeling of repetitiveness came over me and I wasn't really excited to go home. I drive my car through the toll, (which I may have gone to fast through...hope I didn't skip it) and get on the GWB. Some traffic caused me to slow down a bit and also caused me to realize...I was home. I looked to the right and saw NYC from a perspective I haven't taken the time to see in a long time. NYC is a beautiful city filled with unique attractions, sights, sounds, smells, and experiences. It's expensive, sure, but I'm beginning to think what you pay extra for...is the experience. Getting a hot dog on 42nd...it's gonna cost you, but it's a NYC experience. Go get you and your boy/girlfriend drawn downtown by the Asian cartoonists. It's funny, a little pricey, but it's an experience you never forget...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There's someone who I can't wait to see visiting me in NYC in a few weeks. She's visiting NYC for the first time and I've promised her an experience she won't forget. I'm thinking the Natural History Museum, Central Park (if it's not thunder storming), a trip on the subway (wear a bullet proof vest), Empire State Building, Rockefeller Center and SO MUCH MORE!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I take NYC for granted a lot because I've grown up here and I've seen mostly everything...but I'm starting to realize...it's not what you see...it's how you see it and with you. Make every memory count and every day special. Now to go take my own advice.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-6228435597433376128?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cVFi5D3qzP5fqV6WgZorCKSpNo8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cVFi5D3qzP5fqV6WgZorCKSpNo8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cVFi5D3qzP5fqV6WgZorCKSpNo8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/cVFi5D3qzP5fqV6WgZorCKSpNo8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/ZFjHzfp_kX8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/6228435597433376128/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/05/nyc.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/6228435597433376128?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/6228435597433376128?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/ZFjHzfp_kX8/nyc.html" title="NYC" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/05/nyc.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4NQ3o4cCp7ImA9WxFQFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-1189256787478539246</id><published>2010-05-11T02:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T02:43:12.438-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-11T02:43:12.438-07:00</app:edited><title>Blue's Lyrics</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="expandable"&gt;The format for a blues lyrics was quite specific: 3 lines in an A-A-B  structure&lt;br /&gt;
A line - statement of the problem / difficulty&lt;br /&gt;
A line - restatement with the same words&lt;br /&gt;
B line - a solution / acceptance &lt;b&gt;with the last word of B line  rhyming with the last word of the A lines.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Here some examples:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;blockquote dir="ltr" style="margin-right: 0px;"&gt; A: My part-time job is really bad&lt;br /&gt;
A: Yah, my part-time job is really bad&lt;br /&gt;
B: Better get a copy of the classified ad. (Note how "ad" rhymes with  "bad"?)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
These are mine:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Verse #1&lt;br /&gt;
You look at me and see a boy&lt;br /&gt;
Why  girl, do you look at me and see a boy&lt;br /&gt;
I'll take your hand kiss  your lips and be a man you can enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Verse #2&lt;br /&gt;
I've  turned into the man I never thought I'd be&lt;br /&gt;
Oo girl, I've turned  into the man I never thought I'd be&lt;br /&gt;
But I'm ready to step up and  move all my life's debris.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's actually kind of fun. You should try it and if you want, post it on the comment section. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-1189256787478539246?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PCdBpWoQ7ZjmrHDhfJp_T2LhFzw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PCdBpWoQ7ZjmrHDhfJp_T2LhFzw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PCdBpWoQ7ZjmrHDhfJp_T2LhFzw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PCdBpWoQ7ZjmrHDhfJp_T2LhFzw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/uxP19bXCeHI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/1189256787478539246/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/05/blues-lyrics.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/1189256787478539246?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/1189256787478539246?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/uxP19bXCeHI/blues-lyrics.html" title="Blue's Lyrics" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/05/blues-lyrics.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkINQX08eSp7ImA9WxFQFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-6548830435175145943</id><published>2010-05-11T02:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T02:36:30.371-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-11T02:36:30.371-07:00</app:edited><title>Order in the Court Room!</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;You are on trial as a performing artist for violating government imposed censorship. Write a paragraph TO THE JURY defending your actions.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Ladies and gentleman of the jury: today I am on trial for "violating government imposed censorship" while performing. I am on trial for expressing my beliefs, my feelings, and my soul. Performing is something that I love to do and many people love to watch me and support me. I am here because I have done or said something to upset the government, who is in fear of my music making an impact on people. They may say that the message is bad, they may say that my music is bad and like Plato said before them, "...bad music should be controlled or banned so as not to divert people from the good life..." With all due respect Plato, what good life? We are living in a tough time, surrounded by violence, greed, poverty, all of which branched off from human error. With that in mind, who decides what music is good or bad? Who decides who's lives are dictated by a group of socialist power-mongers? We are the United States of America, the most greatest and most powerful country in the world, and like every other American, I am proud to be an American...but I am not proud of my government. When a government, in there $10,000 suits, dictate and stamp forms to control a country, a people from expressing themselves, that is not a government I can be proud of. There was a government who did something very similar to what it happening to me now: Stalin's control over Russia. He was a great music lover, but when music he didn't like was created, he made sure it was snuffed out just as quickly. Anything to cover up the true indecencies in his country so that he could run his country believing it was superior. He was ignorant to the trials and tribulations of his country and that it why people rebelled and fought to be creative, stared death in the face for a composition, and even took a bullet to the heart for a play. Are we the same as Stalin? Is our government going to shut me up and condemn me for performing when rapists, murders and thieves escape jail on technicalities? Is our government going to be just as ignorant and naive to the true state of our country? Does the government really think locking me up will end the performing to showcase the real America? They are wrong. To lock me up will make me a political activist. I am fighting for our country by performing for people to enlighten them about our current struggles. In closing, ladies and gentleman of the jury, you have the power to decide what type of people you are, what kind of American you are. Are you the type who is willing to stand up and fight for truth, justice and the American way? Or will you conform to the demands of a government who is too arrogant and blind to realize that I am trying to help? The choice is yours. I don't know what your decision will be but I do know what Stalin would do...I hope you don't agree with him. Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-6548830435175145943?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xERQGLwLAKeVvpqmxOAhxisW3E4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xERQGLwLAKeVvpqmxOAhxisW3E4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xERQGLwLAKeVvpqmxOAhxisW3E4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xERQGLwLAKeVvpqmxOAhxisW3E4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/RxDusqRZw2c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/6548830435175145943/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/05/order-in-court-room.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/6548830435175145943?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/6548830435175145943?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/RxDusqRZw2c/order-in-court-room.html" title="Order in the Court Room!" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/05/order-in-court-room.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak4NSHkzeCp7ImA9WxFRF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-697389789960760116</id><published>2010-05-02T01:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T01:29:59.780-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-05-02T01:29:59.780-07:00</app:edited><title>What lies ahead for the future?</title><content type="html">Have you ever thought about doing something people couldn't ever see you doing? Have you ever felt that you wanted to do something different, something that would really pump your blood, something, you feel, is actually worth learning? Over the last year or so I've watched UFC religiously. The technical aspects of this sport really intrigue me and have led me to learn things on my own little by little. Former light heavyweight UFC champion, Chuck Liddell, started me on this feeling of new discovery. Watching him fight was amazing. Watch a fight and look into the eyes of the fighters. They are no longer themselves, they are something else...something more.&amp;nbsp; For a brief period, it's two Gods fighting in an octagon surrounded by mortals. We, the audience, stare in awe and amazement at the things they do; the slipping and sliding, the bombs thrown using just their hands, the positions they put themselves into with perfect execution, the fire burning inside them for, at most, 25min.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am not a fighter, nor have I ever been, but I want to be. I have a plan. Some feedback about this would be helpful. I love writing, but I have another fantasy, to learn Mixed Martial Arts. Why can't I put those two together? What I want to do is take mixed martial arts classes next semester for one semester and write about my experiences. The good, the bad, and even the ugly (I'll post any bruises I get). It is definitely 4:30am but I just had to write for a little bit, and now I have.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-697389789960760116?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tvUQblnbSGqpdVV9IprNRAgeGUY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tvUQblnbSGqpdVV9IprNRAgeGUY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tvUQblnbSGqpdVV9IprNRAgeGUY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tvUQblnbSGqpdVV9IprNRAgeGUY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/0MsOJLSClaY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/697389789960760116/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-lies-ahead-for-future.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/697389789960760116?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/697389789960760116?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/0MsOJLSClaY/what-lies-ahead-for-future.html" title="What lies ahead for the future?" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-lies-ahead-for-future.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cHQX8zeyp7ImA9WxBaF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-8432477301087629273</id><published>2010-03-27T23:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T23:50:30.183-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-27T23:50:30.183-07:00</app:edited><title>Is Evil Real?</title><content type="html">&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;DISCLAMER: This is kind of a disturbing story...but it's based on a true event. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Red and blue lights illuminate the dark night and sirens wail as cop cars are in high speed pursuit with a man holding his wife and child hostage. They rush down the highways with no regard for human life, swerving in and out of traffic. The man, tightly holding the steering wheel with both hands, catches the falling drops of sweat with his arms with each sharp jerk to avoid the cars he is blowing past. His teeth clenched, adrenaline racing, and mind a mess with his wife screaming bloody murder in the seat adjacent to him and his baby boy crying his soul out in the seat behind him. A man solely responsible for creating fear and panic in those he loves has gone off the deep end and threatened the life of his “bitch” of a wife. The man, confused and panicked, pulls off the highway, but the back of his car hits a rail just before an exit sending his car into a tailspin. The cops see this and slow down, keeping away from the weaponized spinning car, and hope that when it comes to a stop, everyone will be ok. The man’s out of control car falls into a ditch with amazing speed and glass breaks, the car flips, rolls, and comes to a crashing halt. The police rush to the aid of the assumed injured people, but it was their worse fear. The man had done what he meant to do in the first place; he killed his wife. The wife, in the passenger seat, had been killed by the force of the destructive crash and had the look of fear burned into her lifeless face. The man was unconscious, but he was alive and in critical condition and was taken away by EMS. “Where is the baby?” said officer #1. The police knew that a baby was in the car with the man and his wife, but he was no longer in the car. Obviously the baby was incapable of leaving on his own, so where could he have gone? The police search the surrounding area with no luck.  Officer #2, just as farfetched, leaned against a tree adjacent to the man’s destroyed car, and pondered the location of this missing infant. Not two seconds later, the officer felt rain drops coming down, but they were a little warmer and heavier than what he normally associates with rain. He looks at his face and arm, and the rain is red. He jerks his head upward and sees the devilish shadowy outline of the bare October trees but no rain, no magic cloud, nothing. He takes out his oversized flashlight, turns it on and illuminates the shadows. He slowly creeps the bright light up the tree he was leaning on, seeing nothing but cold frosted bark. He creeps up even more to the claws of the shady tree, and his stomach backflips, his saliva disappears, and his heart begins to hurt. He says nothing and stares into the tree and his eyes redden and build tears as his face weakens and begins to sink. Officer #1 sees the distraught officer and wonders what’s wrong. He follows the beam of light emanating from officer #2’s flashlight right into the heart of the tree. There he saw something that would remain in his memories forever; the baby was skewered into the tree. The baby had been chucked from the open rear window, during the tailspin and barrel roll, and was impaled by this now infamous tree. Officer #2 dropped his flashlight, ran to the fire truck that came with EMS and screamed for a ladder. With a ladder setup, officer #2 hurriedly went up the tree and reached the baby. Unlike the mother, the baby looked peaceful in his eternal sleep.  With his face blue from the cold, his tears frozen to his little cheek, and a bloody hole in his little chest, officer #2 carried the baby down sobbing. EMS took the baby from the officer and sped away in the ambulance, but he had already been dead for too long. Officer #1 comforted officer #2 but nothing could take away that horrible image…nothing. Now ask yourself, does evil exist in the world?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-8432477301087629273?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sW8PvRnl7xauaTgPBp8m29a6-BY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sW8PvRnl7xauaTgPBp8m29a6-BY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sW8PvRnl7xauaTgPBp8m29a6-BY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/sW8PvRnl7xauaTgPBp8m29a6-BY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/NCrB_x01A5A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/8432477301087629273/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/03/is-evil-real.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/8432477301087629273?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/8432477301087629273?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/NCrB_x01A5A/is-evil-real.html" title="Is Evil Real?" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/03/is-evil-real.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMDRn06fCp7ImA9WxBVFUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-4888848968274210935</id><published>2010-02-18T23:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T23:11:17.314-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-18T23:11:17.314-08:00</app:edited><title>Closet Romantic</title><content type="html">I haven't wrote in a while because I don't know how to write down what is going in my head. There is something however that I wanted to get out. Today, while hanging out with my friends, we all came to the realization that I am a closet romantic. Most people know me with the reputation as a freak, someone who "uses girls", and as someone who just wants to fuck. Let me try and explain how I work...frankly because I need to get out what I've been thinking about. Let's officially set the record straight...I am a freak. I love sex and I love having sex a lot and I'd like to think I'm good at it. I like to hook up with more than one girl at a time..because girls are people and just like normal human beings, different people have a lot to offer and I love different experiences. This all happens when I am single. I am not against relationships but I will not settle for just "a girl"...I will only get with someone that is extremely special to me. I've dated two people in my life...they didn't work out but I do not regret any time that I spent with them. It allowed me chances to experience new things in my life and it also allowed me to realize what i really want in a relationship and the type of boyfriend and man I want to be. I will always have some feelings for my ex girlfriends...mainly because there are memories that I can't erase...but the only reason I experienced them with those girls is because there was something about them that made it about something more than just sex. I remember there was a comment made about me, "The only reason he has his girlfriend is because he wants sex." Time to clarify more: I don't need a girlfriend to have sex...I'm perfectly capable of having sex with girls that I enjoy spending time with. I choose to have a girlfriend when I find that girl that I would love to include in part of my life...someone who makes life better just because we are together. Anyone who's slept with a girl before knows that when you wake up next to them, that first look at her eyes...is the telling one. If you actually look her eyes and see something more than the color...that's when you know you really found something more than a "fuck buddy". Sex is a big deal to me...but it's not a deciding factor in choosing a girlfriend (although, truthfully, I don't think I would be able to be in a relationship with someone who didn't have sex). If I can have sex regardless of a relationship, then sex obviously wouldn't really be the reason that I would go through the twists and turns of a committed, real relationship (which is what I treat my relationships as). There is someone that is very important to me...but she's too far for me to do anything about it. I realize that when I have my mind set on a girl that is extremely special to me, I act differently that I would normally with a girl...but that's because I feel different around her...I feel real. I love the wining and dining, looking at stars and constellations, making the girl, who makes me feel special, feel special too. I've made some messed up choices, which was fucked up towards the girls, but I've realized them and tried my best to repeat them. I don't know exactly what I wrote down but I've released some of the issues rummaging around in my head.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-4888848968274210935?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IWcQ9-lgR7qu7lCCh0BR3t2m5MA/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IWcQ9-lgR7qu7lCCh0BR3t2m5MA/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IWcQ9-lgR7qu7lCCh0BR3t2m5MA/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IWcQ9-lgR7qu7lCCh0BR3t2m5MA/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/TfJiOxiCXwQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/4888848968274210935/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/02/closet-romantic.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/4888848968274210935?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/4888848968274210935?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/TfJiOxiCXwQ/closet-romantic.html" title="Closet Romantic" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/02/closet-romantic.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMFQXs9cSp7ImA9WxBWFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1545920003278544293.post-761782397908414096</id><published>2010-02-08T14:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T14:33:30.569-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-08T14:33:30.569-08:00</app:edited><title>Apparently...A Person CAN Run Through Your Head All the Time</title><content type="html">I haven't talked to her in a long time...and I miss her. I miss the calmness she gave me, the caring she showed, and the fun we always had together. Seeing my phone go off and seeing her face is the second best feeling in the world but the best feeling is knowing that she's happy. But I haven't really talked to her in so long that I can't really know how she feels. I know that she's been going through a lot of relationship issues lately and all I want is for her to keep that smile on her face. A lot has been changing in my life. Maybe I'm at the point in my life where I realize that what I put stock in when I was younger won't exactly be there for me later down the line. These last few months have been full of disappointment and sadness. It almost feels like one of those "life trials" in which i would have to overcome my obstacles instead of avoiding them. I hope I hear from her soon and I hope she's doing well...this...was just an entry of one day of everyday that I miss her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1545920003278544293-761782397908414096?l=artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FGUkVBVdjhORsnxsm5tAWXriZXs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FGUkVBVdjhORsnxsm5tAWXriZXs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FGUkVBVdjhORsnxsm5tAWXriZXs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FGUkVBVdjhORsnxsm5tAWXriZXs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~4/L5sFHK-WyI4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/feeds/761782397908414096/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/02/apparentlya-person-can-run-through-your.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/761782397908414096?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1545920003278544293/posts/default/761782397908414096?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TheFaceYouNeverSee-artoom23/~3/L5sFHK-WyI4/apparentlya-person-can-run-through-your.html" title="Apparently...A Person CAN Run Through Your Head All the Time" /><author><name>Artoom23</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16537379607579824831</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_EA1ukdhCwRs/S7T3eco6_dI/AAAAAAAAABM/rC-xBKl_Yss/S220/Omar.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://artoomshiddenmask.blogspot.com/2010/02/apparentlya-person-can-run-through-your.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

