<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13773824</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:20:04.122-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Simplest Mistake</title><subtitle type='html'>This is the new blog of Michael De Leon (a.k.a Soultaker21x, Soul Of Creation, -Mystic-)  
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I made this new blog for both my online and real life friends to enjoy, and I'll delete all other blogs that have been created by me.
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Welcome, and enjoy ;)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Michael De Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15280288043346694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>12</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13773824.post-112241188021057247</id><published>2005-07-26T15:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-26T16:16:39.373-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"FOR JOSH"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Originally posted in AnimePhilosophy 5/22/04)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(NOTE: I really didn't accept God at this date, hence being miserable for so long.&lt;br /&gt;I HAVE accepted Christ now, at 10:45 pm, Monday the 18 of July)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;As you know, I've recently accepted God, and my dad isn't very happy. He wishes that I would have accepted God with the Jehovah's Witnesses, not with CornerStone Fellowship. I must say, that though my dad's been persecuting me everyday about my choice of church, I'm happier than I ever was in the Jehovah's Witness, or the Catholic Church, or any other churches that I've failed to mention. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll come back to this later, but I wanted to rant on about atheists. You know, some of you reading this are atheists, I have real life friends who are atheists and I have no problem w/ it. What I do have a problem w/ is people who call themselves Christian, but really aren't! It gets me so mad 'cause they always talk about their faith in God, and then they turn around and put others down, who aren't Christian. Who are they to do this, when they really don't believe, or have a relationship with Him!? They are just a bunch of hypocrites, and I really hate hypocrites, especially those who use religion to put others down, and go parading about how they are "better" than others who aren't!&lt;br /&gt;America is just a hypocrite nation, we are suspossed to be a "Christian Nation" yet we break the simplest of laws, and just follow the crowd to church. People go to church, just because their parents told them to when they were young, not because they believe. They. . . wow. . . I have no words to descibe them. . they are just low. It even says in the Bible, it is better to not know Christ, than to know Him, and turn away. Guess what these hypocrites are doing?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;At my current church, you go in, and you KNOW that everyone believes in God, and aren't just following the crowd, or going through the motions unfaithfully. I wish there were more churches like CornerStone, maybe we'd actually have people that would believe. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span &gt;&lt;em&gt;I've been to alot of churches in my lifetime, and have been miserable in all of them, none of them made me actually believe in God, and others actually made hate God. The reason I went into this rant was because today me and others in our worship band went to Midland, a surburban semi-city near my little town. We went their because a church there needed us to play, because they've needed a band for quite some time. So anyways we go, and the feeling was like. . . negative to say the least. Almost every single person there was an atheist, or hated God, yet they all go to that church there every Sunday, for the heck of it!! They go through the motions, say Amen at the proper time, stand and sit at the right time, all lie by saying they love God. Then they go home, and guess what? It's back to the "real" world, it's like God has no place outside of church.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, I have many friends who flat out don't believe in God, but I still love them and they are some of my best friends. I just don't like pharisees!! So I have just some advice for everyone who reads this: If you believe in God, do what you think is best, whether stay in the church you are in, or find a better one!! And if you don't believe in God, don't go to church, don't lie to &lt;strong&gt;yourself&lt;/strong&gt; or anyone else!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now back to my dad. . . If you are a Christian, don't be a dull one!! Don't parade around like you are better than other people!! That's what my dad does and I hate him for it. He says that he's a "real Christian" that he devotes his life to God, and never has fun, for it is supposedly the devil's work to have fun. . . like WTF!?!? He says that I should never have fun, he doesn't want me to be w/ friends, he doesn't want me to experience new things. . . And to tell you the truth, my dad is miserable at the Jehovah's Witness' place, yet he is so brainwashed, so used to going through the motions, that he'll protect them, and is too afraid to leave, for fear of what they may say. Yes, my dad's an atheist, but he's too afraid to admit it. . . it's just really sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't remember anything else from this post, just remember, don't pretend to be something you're not, whether it be in religion, or anything else, 'cause you will be miserable your entire life.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Note: I've found out today, that my real life dad, the one mentioned in the post, has been abandoned by the Jehovah Witnesses. A perfect example of using Christianity as a means of control. They made him give money to their church, told him to abandon me, and then, after they got done with him, they left him out in the cold. Pray for my dad....)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13773824-112241188021057247?l=simplestmistake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/feeds/112241188021057247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13773824&amp;postID=112241188021057247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/112241188021057247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/112241188021057247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/2005/07/for-josh-originally-posted-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Michael De Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15280288043346694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13773824.post-112120631072099677</id><published>2005-07-12T16:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-12T17:11:50.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Dreams"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;NOBODY IS THINKING ABOUT YOU&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yes, I know, you are certain that your friends are becoming your enemies; that your grocer, garbageman, clergyman, sister-in-law, and your dog are all in the opinion that you have put on weight, that you have lost your touch, that you have lost your mind; furthermore, you are convinced that everyone spends 2/3rds of their lives commenting on your disintegration, and plotting you assassination. I promise you: Nobody is thinking about you. They are too busy thinking about themselves--just like you. -Roger Rosenblatt&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, when I read this, it made me think. It says no one thinks about you negatively, therefore you mustn't worry. In fact it goes so far to say that no one thinks about you AT ALL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've meet a few people who just hated me for no other reason except that I exist. I'm sure there is someone you know, that you've done nothing to, yet hiss at the mere mention of your name, and growl at your good fortune, and absolutely hates it when you're happy and successful. They have no life other than to haunt you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's the other type of person that thinks of you. Your lover. They have a life of their own--it's you. And you to them. You think about this person constantly, especially in your day/night dreams. This through personal experience I know. Tracey is at a camp that her caseworker signed her up to. It's so strange. I've never been so attached to someone like this before. She's been gone only three days, but it feels like an eternity. I'm looking forward to Friday already, when she'll be back in my arms. I've had so many dreams about her. I think this IS my first real love. I've been out before, but when I dreamed about them, it was sexual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With Tracey, all my dreams are, well, normal. For those of you who have followed my blog for quite some time now, you know my dreams usually incorporate bright blue lights, and strange beings. For example, the time I had a crush on two girls, I had a dream where they were both bright flashes of light fighting each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dreams of Tracey aren't like that. Like last night, I dreamed that I was picking her up at her house to go to school that morning. We stopped by Sonic, and got cokes, then hung out in the "circle" til the first bell rang. The other night I had one where we were decorating prom. Nothing sexual, but for some reason, I love these dreams alot more that I have the ones that ARE sexual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to Roger, I have to ask, have you been living in a cave all your life? There are people who think about you, and it's not all bad. If no one thinks about you, I feel sorry for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13773824-112120631072099677?l=simplestmistake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/feeds/112120631072099677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13773824&amp;postID=112120631072099677' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/112120631072099677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/112120631072099677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/2005/07/dreams-nobody-is-thinking-about-you.html' title=''/><author><name>Michael De Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15280288043346694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13773824.post-112088201753867125</id><published>2005-07-08T22:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-08T23:22:50.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Out of Depression"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm happy now! lol. I talked to Jerry about it, and he figures it because of my blood sugar messing with my emotions. I haven't eaten like I normally do, and that could have caused it. Seems likely, cause nothign bad happened to me, for me to be sad, but whatever it was, I don't care now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and Tracey just had out "official" second date without Linda there. It was SO great. By the great advice of my friends, we watched 50 First Dates. She said she had seen it before so many times, but never got to finish it. She loved the movie, and during the ending credits, we sort of danced to the music, lol. I know what your thinking, so cheesy, but it was fun! Then we went to the park acros the street and just talked about our past, and what will become of the future. So many things are coming up. She may have to get surgery....on her spine. She'll find out tommorow, from her doctor. I hope she doesn't need it...spinal surgery can mess up VERY easily. I pray that nothing is wrong. If anything happened to her...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13773824-112088201753867125?l=simplestmistake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/feeds/112088201753867125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13773824&amp;postID=112088201753867125' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/112088201753867125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/112088201753867125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/2005/07/out-of-depression-im-happy-now-lol.html' title=''/><author><name>Michael De Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15280288043346694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13773824.post-112077495112663272</id><published>2005-07-07T17:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-07T17:24:57.683-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Mad World"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;All around me are familiar faces&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Worn out places, worn out faces&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Bright and early for the daily races&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Going no where, going no where&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Their tears are filling up their glasses&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;No expression, no expression&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;No tomorrow, no tomorrow&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I find it hard to tell you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I find it hard to take&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When people run in circles it's a very, very&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mad world, mad world...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Children waiting for the day they feel good&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Happy birthday, happy birthday&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I feel the way that every child should &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sit and listen, sit and listen&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Went to school and I was very nervous&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;No one knew me, no one knew me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Look right through me, look right through me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I find it hard to tell you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I find it hard to take&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When people run in circles its a very, very&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mad world, mad world &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Enlarging your world, mad world&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to do something about this. I'm feeling depressed, and the problem is, there is absolutely NO reason why I should. No school, just lazy days. I've just mad a few new friends. I'm working and swimming almost everyday. I had dinner with Tracey last night, and I'm going to watch a movie with her tommorow!! I'm away from my abusive father...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why the hell am I feeling so damn sad? Am I addicted to it? Do I like being sad? I don't know...now I'm crying. Damn it, why?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13773824-112077495112663272?l=simplestmistake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/feeds/112077495112663272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13773824&amp;postID=112077495112663272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/112077495112663272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/112077495112663272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/2005/07/mad-world-all-around-me-are-familiar.html' title=''/><author><name>Michael De Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15280288043346694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13773824.post-112050954074500746</id><published>2005-07-04T15:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-07-04T15:49:03.370-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Happy 4th of July!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life has been good to me. Jose, you were right... I worry too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the weekend, my youth went on a retreat/trip to Schlitterbahn in New Braunfels, Texas. I thought it was interesting how God played out the whole trip. Remember our church is small, we have about 20 youth all together, and in that youth, we all have our own "groups" that we hang out with the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the way things turned out, we had about one from each group go, and that's it. People just either couldn't go, or backed out. In the end, it was Twiggy (the youth leader), Lacy (the female sponsor), Bailee (the pretty basketball player), Bandi (Bailee's pre-teen little sister), Kristi (the introverted outcast), and then little old me. Six people, who have nothing in common, thrown in a situation where they had to interact... and it worked!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole idea behind the retreat/trip was to get the youth to get to know each other more, and I think that if all of the youth would have gone, we would have just hung out with our friends, ignored the rest, and the whole thing would have been a failure. If my foster sister, Ramie, would have gone Bailee would have chatted her head off with her. If Jonathan had gone, Kristi would have spaced out gazing at him the whole time. If Tracey had gone, I would have been too distracted to learn that Bailee likes lizards, some rock music, and isn't a prep, too distracted to learn that Twiggy isn't a happy camper if you wake him up in his sleep, or that Lacy has a daughter she loves, or that Bandi isn't immature, or that Kristi does truly love being left alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking down the River Walk, running into Victoria's Secret to buy Tracey a gift, riding all the rides, and breaking the ice when someone's swimming suit fell off!! All in all it was a great time, and I came out with 5 new friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I came back home, I realized how fun it was to watch $300 go up in flames, when me and my friends all donated money in a pot to get fireworks, and lit them all at midnight. Watching Josh almost get lit on fire, me dodging roman candles, and fountains going off under the truck was all worth while to just be with friends. I'm glad I got to do it, I know my dad would have not let me done it when I was with him... Anyways, when evening comes, I'm going with Tracey to the fireworks show in the park. It'll be the first real date we have without supervision by a caseworker. w00t!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you God for the great times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13773824-112050954074500746?l=simplestmistake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/feeds/112050954074500746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13773824&amp;postID=112050954074500746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/112050954074500746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/112050954074500746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/2005/07/happy-4th-of-july-life-has-been-good.html' title=''/><author><name>Michael De Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15280288043346694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13773824.post-112013808036280441</id><published>2005-06-30T08:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-30T08:28:00.366-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"The Situation"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Linda, and Cindy talked it out, and agreed that they would let me and Tracey hang out in both of our houses, under supervision.  *sigh*  I guess it's better than nothing, but still I'm frustrated.  As much as I seem extraverted here, when it comes to alot of situations, I'll get quiet.  And so does Tracey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's not in front of everyone.  Like aroud other teens, we act normally, but around adults, we kind of just sit there.  I don't know how to explain it.  Like when we played cards and pool at her house, we weren't being watch by Linda, and we had the best time EVER!  But how it usually goes, Linda is watching, and I guess it just makes us uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And another thing, what is there to do at each others houses?  Nothing besides watch T.V.  I don't want to be restricted to being just at home, and under supervision.  I want to take her to the Country Club swimming.  I want to cruise down Weaver road.  I want to go to the Sky-Vue, and cuddle up in the car watching the movie.  I want to take her to Forrest Park, and have a picnic.  I want to throw fireworks with her this Monday.  I want to do &lt;em&gt;normal&lt;/em&gt; things with her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stupid government rules.  The whole logic behind it is that, they think because of both our situations, us both not living with our parents, that we shouldn't be together.  Together we are a "threat," or a possibility to run away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, maybe things will change.  If we are good, maybe they'll see we aren't a threat.  That we are just trying to be normal, but that they are holding us back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13773824-112013808036280441?l=simplestmistake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/feeds/112013808036280441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13773824&amp;postID=112013808036280441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/112013808036280441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/112013808036280441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/2005/06/situation-linda-and-cindy-talked-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Michael De Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15280288043346694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13773824.post-112001840445347025</id><published>2005-06-28T23:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T01:58:17.226-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Thinking Too Hard"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, doesn't the world ever confuse you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like, nothing makes sense, you try and try, but nothing ever pays off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah...I feel that way now. I got the funniest feeling I've been rejected by the case workers...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, let me explain. Remember that whole background check I told you they had to do to me, so I could take Tracey out? I think I've failed. It's hard to explain, I just got the funniest feeling when I went to her house today. Linda wouldn't let me talk to her, and told me to come back tommorow... I think tommorow I'll be told to never come back again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh said it may just be our situations. The government won't let us be together because we're both not with our parents. I don't know why that would matter at all...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other things have frustrated me today, also....Josh...John Mark..you know what it is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm I just being paranoid? It's just that so many bad things have happened in my life, that I just can't believe that this'll turn out good. Well, tommorow I guess I'll know. Hopefully. I'm tired of hearing Linda say, "The report's not in yet, sorry." Sometimes I doubt if she actually sent it, maybe she is toying with me, because she doesn't want me to go out with her "daughter."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well...til tommorow...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13773824-112001840445347025?l=simplestmistake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/feeds/112001840445347025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13773824&amp;postID=112001840445347025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/112001840445347025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/112001840445347025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/2005/06/thinking-too-hard-so-doesnt-world-ever.html' title=''/><author><name>Michael De Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15280288043346694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13773824.post-111963882322896889</id><published>2005-06-24T13:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T01:57:16.333-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"X-Fest/Cornerstone"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ack!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So frustrasted that I haven't been able to make a template for this website. I know I haven't told you guys, but I now work for not only the local radio station (KPET), but I also have a steady job with my church, Cornerstone Fellowship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my jobs is to keep a church website looking good, and updated. I'm trying hard to get it out there into the world. So far everyone in Lamesa (my home town) knows about it, and I'm currently wanting to get Josh to put it on his MySpace and get Midland college to check it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly, it's getting there. You can check it out here: &lt;a href="http://www.cornerstonelamesa.org/"&gt;http://www.cornerstonelamesa.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you see any mistakes in spelling, or have any suggestions, tell me here. I warn you, some pages are blank, as I haven't gotten to them, but slowly, I'm completing it....or as much as you can call complete.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also.... X-FEST IS TOMMOROW!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wOOt!! I'm so excited. Some of my favorite bands will be there, like Seether, Static-x, and Powerman 5000. I just pray to God I don't get caught up in a mosh pit...I'm not much of a fighter anymore :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I'll post on how the concert was...and be sure to check out cornerstone website!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bai~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13773824-111963882322896889?l=simplestmistake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/feeds/111963882322896889/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13773824&amp;postID=111963882322896889' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/111963882322896889'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/111963882322896889'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/2005/06/x-festcornerstone-ack-so-frustrasted.html' title=''/><author><name>Michael De Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15280288043346694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13773824.post-111940300857204546</id><published>2005-06-22T00:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T01:56:21.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"She's A Brick And I'm Drowning Slowly"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's late...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working on a cd for Tracey (it'll be the second one, lol, I'm slowly making her love rock music!)&lt;br /&gt;Came across this song...and I got to say I'm addicted to it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Brick&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;6 am day after Christmas&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I throw some clothes on in the dark&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The smell of cold&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Car seat is freezing&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The world is sleeping&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I am numb&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Up the stairs to the apartment&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She is balled up on the couch&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Her mom and dad went down to Charlotte&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;They're not home to find us out&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And we drive&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now that I have found someoneI'm feeling more alone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Than I ever have before&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Off the coast and I'm headed nowhere&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;They call her name at 7:30&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I pace around the parking lot&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Then I walk down to buy her flowers&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And sell some gifts that I got&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Can't you see&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's not me you're dying for&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now she's feeling more alone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Than she ever has before&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Off the coast and I'm headed nowhere&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;As weeks went by&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It showed that she was not fine&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;They told me son, it's time to tell the truth&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She broke down, and I broke down&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Cause I was tired of lying&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Driving home to her apartment&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;For a moment we're alone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yeah she's alone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm alone&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Now I know it&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Off the coast and I'm headed nowhere&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;She's a brick and I'm drowning slowly&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know reading it probably doesn't give the same effect, but it has this awesome piano solo that's so cool, because you rarely see rock music have instruments like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and Tracey have a "song," My December by Linkin Park. I can't believe she likes that song, it's so awesome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, all of this random blabbering about music and Tracey probably didn't make sense, but the good thing is that I'm happy!! I'll post later....Off to bed...So late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sleeps*&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13773824-111940300857204546?l=simplestmistake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/feeds/111940300857204546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13773824&amp;postID=111940300857204546' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/111940300857204546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/111940300857204546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/2005/06/shes-brick-and-im-drowning-slowly-its.html' title=''/><author><name>Michael De Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15280288043346694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13773824.post-111928253697891476</id><published>2005-06-20T10:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T01:55:11.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Great Ending To A Bad Day"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I failed at being a "son" to Jerry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then again, I wonder, did I really want to? Like I mentioned in my previous post, he could never really be my real dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left church early (which is sacrilege in a pastor's house), then I refused to participate in the family activities. But I wasn't mad, or sad at all. Both Cindy and Jerry seemed to think I'm hiding something, either an emotion I have or, maybe even drugs. I've noticed things in my room have been snooped through, and my computer has been used without permission. ( I just put a password on my pc, so no worries there :D )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, when Josh came to my house to drag me along to swim, I was relieved. I didn't want to be in that house...Too much tension. After swimming, I tell him to take me back home, I thought I had the courage to talk to them. Confront about why my things are moved, and privacy invaded, but when I get there, they are having Bible study, so nothing happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't stand it anymore, and left on my car and headed toward Tracey's. RELIEF!!! Isn't it amazing how a girlfriend relieves stress? *sigh* I talked to Linda (Tracey's foster mom) and I think I'm finally getting her to accept me. Afterwards me, Tracey, and her sisters played card games, and then pool. Don't know how to explain it, but I had a lot of fun, just being with Tracey, it didn't matter what we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, I went to bed happy :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EDIT: You know how I said I would tell you how me and Tracey met? Well, I'm allowed to say this much:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tracey moved here December 17, 2004 on a foster program, and I've been her friend until the end of school, when I finally asked her out. Besides that, can't say much, except that the gov't wanted to do a background check on me before I could even take her out! *kuso bakarashii!!!*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, back to working on a skin for this website, I hate the templates, lol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13773824-111928253697891476?l=simplestmistake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/feeds/111928253697891476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13773824&amp;postID=111928253697891476' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/111928253697891476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/111928253697891476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/2005/06/great-ending-to-bad-day-i-failed-at.html' title=''/><author><name>Michael De Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15280288043346694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13773824.post-111916008326196856</id><published>2005-06-19T00:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T01:54:34.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"Father's Expectations..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His spit is worth more than her work&lt;br /&gt;Pass the purse to the pugilists&lt;br /&gt;He's a prizefighter&lt;br /&gt;And he bought rings and he &lt;strong&gt;owns&lt;/strong&gt; kin&lt;br /&gt;And now he's swingin'&lt;br /&gt;And now &lt;em&gt;he's&lt;/em&gt; the champion&lt;br /&gt;A spotless domain...&lt;br /&gt;Hides festering hopes, she's certain there's more&lt;br /&gt;Pictures of fields without fences&lt;br /&gt;Her body &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;numbs&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; as he approaches the door...to hurt her one more time...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v82/soultaker21x/MVC-009.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See that picture? Looks like such a sweet man doesn't he? He wouldn't hurt a fly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he would hurt me...and rape my feelings. Man could he run, I was surprised when I first tried to get away from him. Two months later, and I still feel the sting of his cane. I wish he only hit me, and nothing else. But no, he went further. Mentally, he made me feel like shit, we'll put it that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many of you don't have a dad? Or don't get along with him? Or have had an abusive one? It's forty minutes into Father's Day, and I'm wondering what I'll do when morning comes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...Father's Day? pfft! No biggie..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what I say, but I wonder. What should I do? Try and visit my real dad? Hell...He would probably kill me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What about spending time with my "adopted" dad, Jerry Stewart, a very nice man and great pastor. But...dad? No, no matter how hard he may try, he can never be my dad. It's just too late. I'm almost a grown man. To be my dad, he would have to have been there when I was a kid. Be there for my first spoken words. Be there to hug me when I go hurt. Be there for all my birthdays. He can love me...but not like he loves his real daughter, Ramie. He can't worry for me, like he does her. He can't feel joy at my achievements, when hers overshadow mine. He was there for her birthdays...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my real dad...I forgive you...but I sure don't want to live with you again. You said you'd protect me from mom! You said she would never hurt me! You were right, she never hurt me...you did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To my "adopted" father, thanks for trying, I appreciate it alot. I hope when morning comes, I can be the best son that a "son" like me can be...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13773824-111916008326196856?l=simplestmistake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/feeds/111916008326196856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13773824&amp;postID=111916008326196856' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/111916008326196856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/111916008326196856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/2005/06/fathers-expectations.html' title=''/><author><name>Michael De Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15280288043346694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13773824.post-111912018255522384</id><published>2005-06-18T13:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2005-06-29T01:54:14.370-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"New Blog"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my new blog...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very confusing for some of you...especially those who don't know me in real life, but have followed my other blogs (i.e. Anime Philosophy / Soul Of Creation etc...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well here's the deal, some of my real life friends have chosen to make blogs, and have wanted to add me to their lists...but I didn't want them to see my personal thoughts I had written on them. So next best solution is to make a whole new blog, with fresh posts, and I soon plan on adding old posts (With some edits of course...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have deleted all my previous blogs, so to be honest, this is not only a new blog, but will be my main one from now on. As I get comfortable with real life friends reading my thoughts, I'll grow more and more thought provoking and less shy about expressing my feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who are long followers of my blogs, I'm sorry for keeping you in the dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a basic summary of what has happened to me in the past months:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My abusive dad has kicked me out of my house, with no intent on letting me live with him agian. I am living with my EXTREMELY kind pastor, Jerry Stewart, and his wife, Cindy, and daughter, Ramie. Things have been awkward, I don't feel like I really belong here, but my friends (especially Josh, go figure..) have been making the tension mitigate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, of all things, I finally have a girlfriend that I'm actually being serious about! Her name is Tracey, love of my life. (lmao) I'll explain how we met in another post...if I can get her permission to.... (You'll see why I need her permission if I get to post it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides that...things are ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I'm going to update my profile, good bye!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13773824-111912018255522384?l=simplestmistake.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/feeds/111912018255522384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13773824&amp;postID=111912018255522384' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/111912018255522384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13773824/posts/default/111912018255522384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://simplestmistake.blogspot.com/2005/06/new-blog-hello-everyone-this-is-my-new.html' title=''/><author><name>Michael De Leon</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15280288043346694916</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
