<?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-7454737353925052994</id><updated>2011-12-29T17:11:27.682-08:00</updated><category term='creed for life'/><category term='fml'/><category term='i&apos;m blessed anyway'/><category term='i need a fake id'/><category term='2009'/><category term='ha ha ha.'/><category term='babies'/><category term='poem'/><category term='howard university'/><category term='punch drunk love'/><category term='now'/><category term='change'/><category term='cartoons'/><category term='alone but never lonely'/><category term='fatherless much?'/><category term='inspiration'/><category term='hope'/><category term='motivation'/><category term='sleep'/><category term='showers'/><category term='family'/><category term='new year'/><category term='self-esteem'/><category term='anger'/><category term='frustration'/><category term='my life right now'/><category term='hip hop'/><category term='it makes perfect sense'/><category term='changes'/><category term='heartache'/><category term='natural hair'/><category term='happy hunting'/><category term='Darius'/><category term='me time'/><category term='da rules'/><category term='drexel university'/><category term='vsb'/><category term='stress'/><category term='peace'/><category term='les twins'/><category term='individuality'/><category term='finally'/><category term='black boys'/><category term='God'/><category term='real life'/><category term='success'/><category term='random'/><category term='hopes'/><category term='young girls'/><category term='college'/><category term='2010'/><category term='drunk'/><category term='unfinished'/><category term='high'/><category term='bored'/><category term='chances'/><category term='big mistake'/><category term='faith'/><category term='decisions'/><category term='wha???'/><category term='style'/><category term='life'/><category term='numb'/><category term='rain'/><category term='dreams'/><category term='running'/><category term='quiet'/><category term='addicition'/><category term='MTA'/><category term='hood fab'/><category term='feelings'/><category term='icon'/><category term='insomnia.'/><category term='For My Momma and&apos;em'/><category term='love story'/><category term='love'/><category term='questions'/><category term='clubs'/><category term='being me'/><category term='jayZ'/><title type='text'>Bigger than Life, Badder than Sin</title><subtitle type='html'>...and then some.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>72</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-486078411234803826</id><published>2011-08-02T17:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T18:38:49.343-07:00</updated><title type='text'>April</title><content type='html'>Contrary to what you believe'd us to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;We were unique&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not everyday that a simple&lt;br /&gt;conversation turns into an adventure&lt;br /&gt;And souls get exposed&lt;br /&gt;And emotions get messy&lt;br /&gt;And none of this was planned you see&lt;br /&gt;For me to bear my true self&lt;br /&gt;almost mistakenly&lt;br /&gt;is what hurts the most&lt;br /&gt;Although others have had glimpses&lt;br /&gt;into my depth&lt;br /&gt;They were more like&lt;br /&gt;perverted peeping toms&lt;br /&gt;you were a preferred invited guest&lt;br /&gt;And I guess what confuses me the most&lt;br /&gt;is having to guess if I'm the &lt;br /&gt;reason we'll never seen another season&lt;br /&gt;like the one that just past.&lt;br /&gt;Was it me?&lt;br /&gt;Did I offer you a glimpse into a future &lt;br /&gt;you wanted no part of?&lt;br /&gt;Did I laugh like an ex-girlfriend?&lt;br /&gt;Were my hands like hers?&lt;br /&gt;Did I hold you like you the one who broke you?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I didn't hold you tight enough?&lt;br /&gt;Was I too heavy?&lt;br /&gt;Did my love for you radiate&lt;br /&gt;through my eyes and bear down&lt;br /&gt;into your soul?&lt;br /&gt;Was I an anchor when all you wanted to do&lt;br /&gt;was float?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I didn't do enough?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I mistakenly &lt;br /&gt;hurt your feelings &lt;br /&gt;and couldn't read your mind well enough to &lt;br /&gt;know what I had done?&lt;br /&gt;Was I too much of a flirt?&lt;br /&gt;Speak to too many people,&lt;br /&gt;laugh too much?&lt;br /&gt;Was I overindulgent?&lt;br /&gt;Or worse, was I not a lady at times?&lt;br /&gt;Did my tomboyish ways make you soft?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe the curve of my hip was too round&lt;br /&gt;Or not round enough?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe my eyes weren't quite the right shade of brown&lt;br /&gt;You see my love, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;maybe I'm too much of me for you&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I suffer from this psychological disease&lt;br /&gt;where I can only always be me.&lt;br /&gt;And it's led me to this same end&lt;br /&gt;plenty of times&lt;br /&gt;The question is never really "why?"&lt;br /&gt;Why didnt we work?&lt;br /&gt;or what did I do to deserve your change of heart?&lt;br /&gt;All that's important is &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;what we were, when we were&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;And we were beautiful&lt;br /&gt;Unregrettably, unmistakably,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;breathtakingly beautiful&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And despite everything&lt;br /&gt;I would do it all again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-486078411234803826?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/486078411234803826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=486078411234803826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/486078411234803826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/486078411234803826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2011/08/april.html' title='April'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-5715709367187442916</id><published>2011-02-25T22:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T22:47:20.994-08:00</updated><title type='text'>For Regular Girls</title><content type='html'>*it's not finished yet*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I write for regular ole black girls.&lt;br /&gt;Brown and black girls with shorter hair&lt;br /&gt;Average figures&lt;br /&gt;and regular smiles. &lt;br /&gt;I write for the women who felt&lt;br /&gt;a tight pain in their chest when&lt;br /&gt;Wayne said, "You like a bitch with no ass...&lt;br /&gt;you aint got shit."&lt;br /&gt;For the women who brought Booty Pops&lt;br /&gt;and hit squats for hours after that.&lt;br /&gt;I write for you.&lt;br /&gt;I write for every black girl that&lt;br /&gt;put a towel on her head and pretended &lt;br /&gt;it was long and blonde.&lt;br /&gt;I write for every girl who ever thought&lt;br /&gt;that smart was a synonym for "not pretty"&lt;br /&gt;And every pretty girl that thought that &lt;br /&gt;was all she could ever be. &lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry world that I wasn't born &lt;br /&gt;with lighter eyes &lt;br /&gt;or straighter hair&lt;br /&gt;But Sojouner told me that despite&lt;br /&gt;it all I'm still a woman.&lt;br /&gt;So I write to remind other Hershey kissed queens&lt;br /&gt;that they are worth more than covers of men's&lt;br /&gt;magazines.&lt;br /&gt;And that our skin was made this way &lt;br /&gt;on purpose.&lt;br /&gt;We, brown skins girls are responsible for &lt;br /&gt;that moment in the day when &lt;br /&gt;the sun and the moon are shining&lt;br /&gt;at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;They're fighting for our attention.&lt;br /&gt;we, brown skin girls&lt;br /&gt;are that cinnamon sprinkle over a mocha &lt;br /&gt;chocolate latte, that Starbucks made in our honor&lt;br /&gt;Brown skin girl&lt;br /&gt;You are the mahogany colored caramel &lt;br /&gt;that rises when sugar melts.&lt;br /&gt;If &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;were a color, it would be you.&lt;br /&gt;So tan black girl,&lt;br /&gt;bask in that sun,  brown girl.&lt;br /&gt;Don't you know it rises every morning&lt;br /&gt;searching for your melanin, because you&lt;br /&gt;receive it like a warm welcome&lt;br /&gt;and the glow looks good on you.&lt;br /&gt;Vitamin D stands for "Don't I look good?"&lt;br /&gt;and there's plenty of it in your bronze tone.&lt;br /&gt;And while us henna colored homegirls,&lt;br /&gt;golden goddesses, and sepia sistas continue&lt;br /&gt;to swim in this pool of goodness&lt;br /&gt;that we call our flesh,&lt;br /&gt;we'll never forget to thank the Lord &lt;br /&gt;for making us this way.&lt;br /&gt;Being fearfully and purposely made&lt;br /&gt;is a wonderful things. &lt;br /&gt;And don't ever get discouraged when you &lt;br /&gt;don't see your image reflected in the media.&lt;br /&gt;You are too three dimensional to be explained&lt;br /&gt;in such a flat format.&lt;br /&gt;Trying to create our correct images&lt;br /&gt;would cause glares similar to staring &lt;br /&gt;in the sun for too long.&lt;br /&gt;The world's eyesight isn't that strong. &lt;br /&gt;There just aren't enough words to describe the &lt;br /&gt;diversity that we brown skin girls encompass.&lt;br /&gt;So regular will do until they find time &lt;br /&gt;to create another language just for us.&lt;br /&gt;But in the meantime, just know,&lt;br /&gt;that while your beauty seems to go unnoticed&lt;br /&gt;by mere mortals.&lt;br /&gt;The sun, moon and stars&lt;br /&gt;thank God for you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-5715709367187442916?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/5715709367187442916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=5715709367187442916' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/5715709367187442916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/5715709367187442916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2011/02/for-regular-girls.html' title='For Regular Girls'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-6663782740458571240</id><published>2011-01-27T21:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T23:07:03.425-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='les twins'/><title type='text'>Les Twins</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TUJXwY8_6RI/AAAAAAAAAO0/0W9oTc99Ho4/s1600/les%2Btwins.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TUJXwY8_6RI/AAAAAAAAAO0/0W9oTc99Ho4/s400/les%2Btwins.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5567108578226989330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't stop watching these guys...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-6663782740458571240?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4K-6x07nyw' title='Les Twins'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/6663782740458571240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=6663782740458571240' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6663782740458571240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6663782740458571240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2011/01/les-twins.html' title='Les Twins'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TUJXwY8_6RI/AAAAAAAAAO0/0W9oTc99Ho4/s72-c/les%2Btwins.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-7694255082200500006</id><published>2011-01-27T19:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T19:52:09.968-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Untitled</title><content type='html'>It don't matter how beautiful&lt;br /&gt;and soft and creamy you are.&lt;br /&gt;Because you're broken&lt;br /&gt;It don't matter how much he say &lt;br /&gt;he love you&lt;br /&gt;if you can never really believe it&lt;br /&gt;You think you'll always end up alone and you do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She loved it enough to stay away&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that if she got too close her &lt;br /&gt;feelings would change.&lt;br /&gt;And she didn't want to mess up a good thing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ain't that how the song go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"If you love something, let it go."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But she knew it wasn't ever coming back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-7694255082200500006?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/7694255082200500006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=7694255082200500006' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7694255082200500006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7694255082200500006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2011/01/untitled.html' title='Untitled'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-8709176135810489299</id><published>2011-01-24T16:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-24T16:24:50.293-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Darius'/><title type='text'>Damn.</title><content type='html'>I don't feel like talking but I want to communicate.&lt;br /&gt;Since being with you I've learned&lt;br /&gt;The inevitable can't be fought.&lt;br /&gt;A river can't be forced to flow in any direction other than where it wants to go. Damn.&lt;br /&gt;I should have known,&lt;br /&gt;That I would I miss you when you left.&lt;br /&gt;I pushed you away granted&lt;br /&gt;But I was only testing your limits and I guess this was the crack that shattered us. Damn.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if it's too late or too soon&lt;br /&gt;to wet my fingertips and scroll down the yellowpages&lt;br /&gt;A repairman is needed.&lt;br /&gt;I had plans, you did too, but I just think we reached a peak too soon.&lt;br /&gt;Causing us to break levees and flood like katrina&lt;br /&gt;Leaving eyes misty and mouths wet with salty tears and sad words&lt;br /&gt;The same mouths that would drip in anticipation for each other&lt;br /&gt;Are now vacuumed shut&lt;br /&gt;No kind words cause even though we're "friends" I can't say nothing "friendly"&lt;br /&gt;All that I can say is I'm sorry it happened this way, and as much as I don't want to let it go I don't know what else to do.&lt;br /&gt;The waters rushing in. The oceans breaking through and suddenly I can't see you&lt;br /&gt;I can't feel you&lt;br /&gt;I can't hear you&lt;br /&gt;So I must release you&lt;br /&gt;Back into the sea&lt;br /&gt;Where their are plenty of other fish&lt;br /&gt;Fish much better than me&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-8709176135810489299?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/8709176135810489299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=8709176135810489299' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/8709176135810489299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/8709176135810489299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2011/01/damn.html' title='Damn.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-8896034254592968616</id><published>2010-12-22T08:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-22T08:30:23.099-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chase that Franco!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TRInmvqXlFI/AAAAAAAAAOo/ppw4wQ-BJAY/s1600/me%2Band%2Bkia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TRInmvqXlFI/AAAAAAAAAOo/ppw4wQ-BJAY/s400/me%2Band%2Bkia.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553544837083927634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shoutout to Diamond Newman at chasefranco.com for featuring me. Check her out. She's another City alum, really out there doing her thing and inspiring the masses. She featured me for my final art project; a collage entitled, "me and kia"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-8896034254592968616?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://chasefranco.com/?p=1703' title='Chase that Franco!'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/8896034254592968616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=8896034254592968616' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/8896034254592968616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/8896034254592968616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/12/chase-that-franco.html' title='Chase that Franco!'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TRInmvqXlFI/AAAAAAAAAOo/ppw4wQ-BJAY/s72-c/me%2Band%2Bkia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-1716380443446142182</id><published>2010-12-02T17:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-02T18:04:35.862-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Scared to Love, Scared Not to</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TPhQKnQ9j4I/AAAAAAAAAOg/G8LP5B0LQhk/s1600/aja.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TPhQKnQ9j4I/AAAAAAAAAOg/G8LP5B0LQhk/s400/aja.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5546271084375805826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out ajamonet's EP "Scared to Love, Scared Not to....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-1716380443446142182?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://ajamonet.bandcamp.com/' title='Scared to Love, Scared Not to'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/1716380443446142182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=1716380443446142182' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1716380443446142182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1716380443446142182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/12/scared-to-love-scared-not-to.html' title='Scared to Love, Scared Not to'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TPhQKnQ9j4I/AAAAAAAAAOg/G8LP5B0LQhk/s72-c/aja.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-7196366359290549173</id><published>2010-11-23T07:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T07:53:18.993-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TOvjLzb-8cI/AAAAAAAAAOY/EVSm8ygWAy8/s1600/glasses%2Band%2Bhat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TOvjLzb-8cI/AAAAAAAAAOY/EVSm8ygWAy8/s400/glasses%2Band%2Bhat.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542773558335173058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Imani Cole?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;new blog name?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Possibly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shout out to http://itssimplytrishh.blogspot.com/ for the idea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-7196366359290549173?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/7196366359290549173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=7196366359290549173' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7196366359290549173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7196366359290549173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/11/imani-cole-new-blog-name-possibly.html' title=''/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TOvjLzb-8cI/AAAAAAAAAOY/EVSm8ygWAy8/s72-c/glasses%2Band%2Bhat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-4837022374517254654</id><published>2010-11-18T14:21:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-18T14:21:54.536-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You Goin Fuck Up</title><content type='html'>Put your feeling before mine?&lt;br /&gt;Think of you first?&lt;br /&gt;These ideas seem so strange to me, its plain to see that I didn't know what I was getting into when I dialed your number&lt;br /&gt;Thought nothing off it&lt;br /&gt;Still flirting like its summer&lt;br /&gt;Still dreaming of my distant lover&lt;br /&gt;Not knowing you had plans for me.&lt;br /&gt;Bigger than I had for myself&lt;br /&gt;Everything you said you were gonna do you did&lt;br /&gt;You truly are something else.&lt;br /&gt;The situation is getting crucial&lt;br /&gt;And I'm doing things I've never done before&lt;br /&gt;Learning myself in ways that only happens when you encounter another&lt;br /&gt;When you discuss private thoughts that otherwise would have never slipped through my lips&lt;br /&gt;Passionate kisses affecting me in ways that I can't explain&lt;br /&gt;Confusion abounds because it was never supposed to go this far.&lt;br /&gt;And I always say whatever happens&lt;br /&gt;As if I can truly go with the flow&lt;br /&gt;But only when I already know the stream of water I'm floating in&lt;br /&gt;Its so hard for me to do this.&lt;br /&gt;I just don't know why, I'm trying to down play because I've always been shy.&lt;br /&gt;But I don't know what I'm doing.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to hurt you but&lt;br /&gt;I got the feeling that&lt;br /&gt;I'm goin fuck up, a lot.&lt;br /&gt;So, let this be a warning.&lt;br /&gt;And don't say I never told you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-4837022374517254654?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/4837022374517254654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=4837022374517254654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/4837022374517254654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/4837022374517254654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/11/you-goin-fuck-up.html' title='You Goin Fuck Up'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-301904466269639073</id><published>2010-09-08T18:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-08T18:21:31.539-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='addicition'/><title type='text'>Addiction  (I Understand)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;This was my last time trying to convince myself to quit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I had surrendered, prepared the ways to be okay with this in the future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; My "inspiration" I called it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; 3rd generation alcoholic/addict&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Yup it was on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; As I sat in the car, and Micheal Jackson's "I can't help it" played on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; I understand I cried.&lt;br /&gt;I understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-301904466269639073?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/301904466269639073/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=301904466269639073' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/301904466269639073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/301904466269639073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/09/addiction-i-understand.html' title='Addiction  (I Understand)'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-2037296438813128539</id><published>2010-07-02T07:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T07:52:29.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Night</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I think people tell you to pray&lt;br /&gt;because they don't have the answer.&lt;br /&gt;Its a distraction maybe.&lt;br /&gt;I think the biggest mistake in my life &lt;br /&gt;was considering life without God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Cause now I believe it&lt;/span&gt;, a little.&lt;br /&gt;In bed crying in the pillow cause &lt;br /&gt;I'm leading a God less life.&lt;br /&gt;What is my purpose, my aim?&lt;br /&gt;I have to be sedated to exist in this mundane life.&lt;br /&gt;"It wont be like this always"&lt;br /&gt;Has become my mantra.&lt;br /&gt;"I think I need help"&lt;br /&gt;written on the walls of my brain.&lt;br /&gt;I can't do this anymore&lt;br /&gt;And I can't do it alone.&lt;br /&gt;The loneliness is coming for me. &lt;br /&gt;But I feel like it never really left.&lt;br /&gt;It's almost comforting to see something so consistent in my life.&lt;br /&gt;I'm hollow, empty, void of something&lt;br /&gt;You can hear it when the wind blows through me.&lt;br /&gt;I've tried to fill it with "work" "jobs" "clothes"&lt;br /&gt;....I'm afriad to try men.&lt;br /&gt;But in the end...I'm always&lt;br /&gt;Alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-2037296438813128539?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/2037296438813128539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=2037296438813128539' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2037296438813128539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2037296438813128539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/07/tuesday-night.html' title='Tuesday Night'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-1529011764601123790</id><published>2010-06-28T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T15:39:57.809-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cartoons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big mistake'/><title type='text'>Big Mistake #2 "Chipotle"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TCkksqv3jUI/AAAAAAAAALU/eAUSDdpDSL4/s1600/cartoon+2a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 283px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TCkksqv3jUI/AAAAAAAAALU/eAUSDdpDSL4/s400/cartoon+2a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487957970735566146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-1529011764601123790?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/1529011764601123790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=1529011764601123790' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1529011764601123790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1529011764601123790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/06/big-mistake-2-chipotle.html' title='Big Mistake #2 &quot;Chipotle&quot;'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TCkksqv3jUI/AAAAAAAAALU/eAUSDdpDSL4/s72-c/cartoon+2a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-5627410397099507427</id><published>2010-06-28T15:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T15:40:23.206-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cartoons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big mistake'/><title type='text'>Big Mistake #1 "One Big Ass"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TCkgw0Cr8RI/AAAAAAAAALM/LKz9Ob45BcQ/s1600/cartoon+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 294px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TCkgw0Cr8RI/AAAAAAAAALM/LKz9Ob45BcQ/s400/cartoon+1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487953643903381778" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a cartoon I drew last semester.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-5627410397099507427?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/5627410397099507427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=5627410397099507427' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/5627410397099507427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/5627410397099507427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/06/big-mistake-1.html' title='Big Mistake #1 &quot;One Big Ass&quot;'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TCkgw0Cr8RI/AAAAAAAAALM/LKz9Ob45BcQ/s72-c/cartoon+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-6550015153609922680</id><published>2010-05-02T22:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T21:46:52.396-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='my life right now'/><title type='text'>Thoughts on the End of my First Semester</title><content type='html'>Things I've Learned My First Semester&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;1. The Way the World Works&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently, humans all want the same thing. Some are just more aware of want they want then others. Some humans want to live basic. That is, to survive, they think about life day to day, worry about the here and now. &lt;br /&gt;Others, we'll call them dreamers, think about life beyond the here and now. They dream about the future and wonder about the possibilities of life after their death. These people are the innovators, the Thomas Edison's, the Lena Horne's, the Susan B. Anthony's. &lt;br /&gt;I strive to be like them. I want to live in a world where I use my present to make my future better for my kids, and their kids. For the generations to come long after I've died. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Real Friends Last&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've made a lot here in my first semester at UMBC. But I still feel just as confident in my relationships with the people I met in high school and middle school. #thatisall :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;3. Nobody &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Really&lt;/span&gt; Gives a Fuck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plain and Simple. See number 5&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. It's Hard Living With a Stranger&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's cool, when you guys have a little in common. My roommate was pretty cool. Guess you can say I made a new friend.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. As you get Older, Shit Gets Realer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it ain't even to much I can say about that. SMH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. You Really &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Do &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Determine Your Life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EVERYTHING we do now, determines our future. And not just our future. Everyone's around us as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. All Dreams don't come true, but sometimes that's okay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, the dreams are just that; dreams. Hell, what would the world be like if everyone got what they wanted all the time anyway? &lt;strike through&gt; Perfect &lt;/strike through&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;History really is important&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this I learned from watching "The History of Us" on the History Channel Sunday nights at 9. Definitely inspiring, and worthwhile. I learned that while some entertainer are good at what they do, they wont be remembered for anything significant. Real celebrity status comes when you change the fundamentals of basic human life. Not invent the latest dance style. We've got to stop teaching our kids to look up to Hollywood. The world is bigger than People Magazine. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. College is over-rated...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Like a bitch.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;10. ...but God willing, it'll be worth it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord knows I hope I learn somethings, meet some people, and grow while I'm here.&lt;br /&gt;I just hope I don't have to hurt nothing along the way. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-6550015153609922680?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/6550015153609922680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=6550015153609922680' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6550015153609922680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6550015153609922680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/05/thoughts-on-end-of-my-first-semester.html' title='Thoughts on the End of my First Semester'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-7538145981549248127</id><published>2010-04-14T20:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T20:50:57.833-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motivation'/><title type='text'>My Movement</title><content type='html'>I shine, you shine. &lt;br /&gt;I'm tryna see my people rise.&lt;br /&gt;Cement shoes are prohibited on my boat.&lt;br /&gt;We tryna swim in the lap of luxury&lt;br /&gt;With those on, you won't even float.&lt;br /&gt;See thats why I built a moat&lt;br /&gt;for hating ass bitches like you.&lt;br /&gt;Thats why my walls so high and circle so tight&lt;br /&gt;like a virgin's vagina.&lt;br /&gt;Venus, Saturn and Uranus is all i see&lt;br /&gt;I keep my eyes in the sky&lt;br /&gt;and legs planted in the earth like a tree&lt;br /&gt;You hating ass niggas ain't fucking with me.&lt;br /&gt;I got places to go&lt;br /&gt;Somebody to be.&lt;br /&gt;And you can walk with me&lt;br /&gt;if you tryna get free.&lt;br /&gt;And we can't falter fail or stumble&lt;br /&gt;but don't get cocky either always stay humble.&lt;br /&gt;Put that shit away if it don't amount to nothing &lt;br /&gt;We don't got time for it no more&lt;br /&gt;Waited too long &lt;br /&gt;Now we gotta catch up&lt;br /&gt;Auditions are over&lt;br /&gt;All bullshit will be cut.&lt;br /&gt;The time is now, can't wait no longer&lt;br /&gt;That's why I dismiss all that&lt;br /&gt;wont make me stronger.&lt;br /&gt;My movement begins with the&lt;br /&gt;child within&lt;br /&gt;That had dreams of being bigger&lt;br /&gt;than life and badder than sin&lt;br /&gt;I'm just tryna win.&lt;br /&gt;Despite the odds&lt;br /&gt;Despite my flaws&lt;br /&gt;Despite your doubts. &lt;br /&gt;I know what I'm made off&lt;br /&gt;I know who got me. &lt;br /&gt;I know what I can do. &lt;br /&gt;I'm here on the starting line&lt;br /&gt;Starter position, tied shoes&lt;br /&gt;I'm ready to go, how about you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-7538145981549248127?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/7538145981549248127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=7538145981549248127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7538145981549248127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7538145981549248127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/04/my-movement.html' title='My Movement'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-488727847007277389</id><published>2010-04-14T19:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T20:03:48.427-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feelings'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Come In</title><content type='html'>They don’t wanna see you fly&lt;br /&gt;But I would be a lie if I said I wasn’t &lt;br /&gt;apart of the crowd that didn’t support you&lt;br /&gt;and your decision&lt;br /&gt;cause it ain’t what I want that’s best&lt;br /&gt;it’s about God’s say in the matter &lt;br /&gt;and I would love to say fuck the rest.&lt;br /&gt;But I couldn’t look you in the eye&lt;br /&gt;And not tell you the whole truth&lt;br /&gt;Not warn you about the impending stress&lt;br /&gt;The statistic that you are becoming&lt;br /&gt;The shame I feel&lt;br /&gt;The shame I feel for feeling shame&lt;br /&gt;The heaviness that we falling in&lt;br /&gt;And I say we cause you not going though alone&lt;br /&gt;You never were&lt;br /&gt;And you never will be.&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could make this decision for you&lt;br /&gt;And I would hold onto that guilt for you&lt;br /&gt;Cry those tears for you&lt;br /&gt;Cause that’s how I love when I love you&lt;br /&gt;I would walk those stairs&lt;br /&gt;And lay on my back &lt;br /&gt;And feel that emptiness for you.&lt;br /&gt;Just so you wouldn’t have to.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry but...&lt;br /&gt;I need you to be smart about this&lt;br /&gt;I need you to think about more than&lt;br /&gt;what we'll think&lt;br /&gt;or what they'll say&lt;br /&gt;or redeeming yourself through this.&lt;br /&gt;I think it'll be too hard&lt;br /&gt;I don't see the silver lining&lt;br /&gt;But I see the storm on the horizon&lt;br /&gt;I got something saved for a rainy day&lt;br /&gt;but wouldn't it be smarter &lt;br /&gt;to just come on in the house&lt;br /&gt;A rain coat ain't strong enough for this&lt;br /&gt;Just come in.&lt;br /&gt;Wouldn't it be the smarter thing to do&lt;br /&gt;Why would you try to bear the storm outside&lt;br /&gt;When the house is able and ready to protect you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-488727847007277389?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/488727847007277389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=488727847007277389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/488727847007277389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/488727847007277389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/04/come-in.html' title='Come In'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-1383837383531485958</id><published>2010-04-10T19:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T19:49:18.201-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='numb'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='now'/><title type='text'>Sleep</title><content type='html'>She awoke with the taste of sleep in her mouth. &lt;br /&gt;It was stuck in the back of throat, and made her parched for more.&lt;br /&gt;Lazily her eyelashes moved, her limbs where heavy with the drug of fatigue pulsing though her veins. &lt;br /&gt;She moved her arms to one side of her body and lifted her knees to the sky. &lt;br /&gt;It was a weird and vain attempt to get out of bed.&lt;br /&gt;Eventually she gave up, sleep had won, and class would just have to go on without her today. &lt;br /&gt;Rolling onto her stomach, she got tangled in the sheets. &lt;br /&gt;Too sleepy to fix them, she let them choke her into a dream world.&lt;br /&gt;She didn't mind though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;She had no intention of waking up.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-1383837383531485958?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/1383837383531485958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=1383837383531485958' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1383837383531485958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1383837383531485958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/04/sleep.html' title='Sleep'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-1610973135641089453</id><published>2010-04-02T22:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T10:19:25.141-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='high'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inspiration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drunk'/><title type='text'>So do it...</title><content type='html'>I wanted to write a poem tonight.&lt;br /&gt;But my life got in the way.&lt;br /&gt;Too busy doing shit to actually &lt;br /&gt;think about what I was doing&lt;br /&gt;Process it.&lt;br /&gt;Flip and reverse to make it sound pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Ahem..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, it just hits you.&lt;br /&gt;That these are the moments.&lt;br /&gt;Moments in which life is all about.&lt;br /&gt;Its about those endless almost sober drunk nights of driving. &lt;br /&gt;With a nice soundtrack.&lt;br /&gt;Its about what you have now, &lt;br /&gt;not what you wish to get.&lt;br /&gt;Its about being good in the moment, &lt;br /&gt;not anticipating the next time you can have fun.&lt;br /&gt;Participating fully into what your doing, &lt;br /&gt;dreams are fun, but they're not life.&lt;br /&gt;They're not even real yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Do it now&lt;/span&gt;, and &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;feel it forever&lt;/span&gt;, before its over.&lt;br /&gt;I learned the lesson fast. &lt;br /&gt;Whether it comes to love or life. &lt;br /&gt;Do it now, the next time may not exist.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-1610973135641089453?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/1610973135641089453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=1610973135641089453' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1610973135641089453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1610973135641089453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/04/so-do-it.html' title='So do it...'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-1030898902135410068</id><published>2010-03-06T17:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T17:44:25.567-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='peace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='showers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quiet'/><title type='text'>Showers</title><content type='html'>On a gray rainy day&lt;br /&gt;When black women&lt;br /&gt;In their scarves and sweatpants&lt;br /&gt;Travel to shops to get their hair done&lt;br /&gt;I sat beside my window&lt;br /&gt;And watched my reflection in the glass&lt;br /&gt;The rain dropped and mimicked tears on my face&lt;br /&gt;I sniffle at the sight&lt;br /&gt;It been so long since I cried&lt;br /&gt;Its been so long since I wanted too&lt;br /&gt;The wind whipped branches along the balcony&lt;br /&gt;The strong smell of spring in the air.&lt;br /&gt;That salty intoxicating smell of rain&lt;br /&gt;I could die like this I thought&lt;br /&gt;Right now? I said to myself.&lt;br /&gt;Just like this.&lt;br /&gt;Perfectly content in the early spring rain on the outside of my window&lt;br /&gt;Happy with the smell of the green grass.&lt;br /&gt;Alone in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; Part Two&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a shower in the dark once.&lt;br /&gt;Pitch black, save for a single water proof flashlight&lt;br /&gt;That sat on the toilet and created a silhouette&lt;br /&gt;Fog rising and water falling&lt;br /&gt;Hot steam on a naked body.&lt;br /&gt;I felt alive and aware&lt;br /&gt;as i showered in the dark,&lt;br /&gt;Glistened in the dark&lt;br /&gt;Chased the droplets of water on my skin in the dark.&lt;br /&gt;I had to feel my way around my own body like never before&lt;br /&gt;Reach for my toes and hope they're there&lt;br /&gt;Feel the soap slide down my back and know its getting clean.&lt;br /&gt;Trust my hands to do what&lt;br /&gt;My eyes were trained to.&lt;br /&gt;The climax came when the shower concluded.&lt;br /&gt;Standing in front of a flashlight&lt;br /&gt;Naked&lt;br /&gt;Wet&lt;br /&gt;Shining in all my glory&lt;br /&gt;In the dark.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-1030898902135410068?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/1030898902135410068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=1030898902135410068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1030898902135410068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1030898902135410068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/03/showers.html' title='Showers'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-2142908529623348068</id><published>2010-02-27T20:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T20:33:09.723-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heartache'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Silly Me.</title><content type='html'>I never would have ever imagined it would be this hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt; How naive of me.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finger pricked with blood from the cherry tree.&lt;br /&gt;The pain brings me to reality&lt;br /&gt;Got my mind running track&lt;br /&gt;Finding a way, needing a map.&lt;br /&gt;Fucking my poetry up too, &lt;br /&gt;I can’t even writing about anything but you.&lt;br /&gt;Can stop rhyming either. &lt;br /&gt;Cant stop crying either.&lt;br /&gt;Can’t stop trying either. &lt;br /&gt;Fuck you, for not caring either way.&lt;br /&gt;You just keep on twisting and pulling and pushing.&lt;br /&gt;And I see that shit everyday.&lt;br /&gt;I just can’t see me leaving you alone.&lt;br /&gt;Loving you is like,&lt;br /&gt;Not being able to walk away from a bomb.&lt;br /&gt;Seeing the car on its way&lt;br /&gt;I can feel the impact before it happens&lt;br /&gt;But I just can’t pull over fast enough&lt;br /&gt;Cant pump my brakes to save my life&lt;br /&gt;I wanna scream and get out&lt;br /&gt;But I’m trapped in the flames.&lt;br /&gt;And they burn so good. &lt;br /&gt;I just want to hold your smoldering bones &lt;br /&gt;In my soul.&lt;br /&gt;Let your ashes decorate the skin on my eyelids&lt;br /&gt;So when I close my eyes and die&lt;br /&gt;I still see you.&lt;br /&gt;Snort the ashes on the broken rearview mirror&lt;br /&gt;So when I overdose I still breathe you&lt;br /&gt;You’ll linger in my bloodstream so &lt;br /&gt;When I flex, I can still squeeze you.&lt;br /&gt;Damn, I feel like I need you.&lt;br /&gt;And the feelings not equal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-2142908529623348068?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/2142908529623348068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=2142908529623348068' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2142908529623348068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2142908529623348068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/02/silly-me.html' title='Silly Me.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-6000350583921360183</id><published>2010-02-10T15:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-10T15:51:03.967-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='unfinished'/><title type='text'>I'm Trying, But What are You doing....</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;I'm tryna touch your soul boy...&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I can't reach it.&lt;br /&gt;Can't travel light-years to see it&lt;br /&gt;Just wanna be there for you&lt;br /&gt;But we won't make it.&lt;br /&gt;I know this love can't grow anymore&lt;br /&gt;So why fake it.&lt;br /&gt;I know you said we was goin be good&lt;br /&gt;But your half of the deal wasn't&lt;br /&gt;And I'm not psychic&lt;br /&gt;But I saw this end coming...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-6000350583921360183?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/6000350583921360183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=6000350583921360183' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6000350583921360183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6000350583921360183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/02/im-trying-but-what-are-you-doing.html' title='I&apos;m Trying, But What are You doing....'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-6137113530697303639</id><published>2010-01-31T12:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T07:55:06.975-07:00</updated><title type='text'>They might be Gods</title><content type='html'>*** wrote this on the fly while doing homework, but i like it, but it still might change.***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stands so still&lt;br /&gt;While the winter breaks the&lt;br /&gt;Rest, he leans&lt;br /&gt;Against a building&lt;br /&gt;Inhales a black smoothly&lt;br /&gt;He's seen it all&lt;br /&gt;He's just as cold as the rest&lt;br /&gt;Of us, but can't show it&lt;br /&gt;His pride is my guess&lt;br /&gt;He is built Ford tough&lt;br /&gt;But rides like a Caddy&lt;br /&gt;Lips part in a timeless exhale&lt;br /&gt;He is just too much.&lt;br /&gt;The wind doesn't dare blow his&lt;br /&gt;Way.&lt;br /&gt;I want to stand behind him&lt;br /&gt;To be protected from the wind&lt;br /&gt;From the world&lt;br /&gt;I want to stand behind him and warm his cold back&lt;br /&gt;Kiss his cold neck&lt;br /&gt;Revive his cold heart.&lt;br /&gt;If I I could only get close enough.&lt;br /&gt;Men like him are so distant.&lt;br /&gt;Always walls surrounding their hearts&lt;br /&gt;Always pride in the way&lt;br /&gt;Always excuses for why they can't say "I love you"&lt;br /&gt;But they can show it.&lt;br /&gt;In the way they look at you&lt;br /&gt;Touch you, let you touch them&lt;br /&gt;Protect you from the wind, from the world&lt;br /&gt;If you ever get the chance to stand behind them.&lt;br /&gt;Stay there.&lt;br /&gt;Don't fight it, its as close to heaven as you'll get while your still alive.&lt;br /&gt;Auras like ancient kings&lt;br /&gt;Who were thought to be Gods&lt;br /&gt;But there are no doubts when I stand behind him...&lt;br /&gt;he may look like a man&lt;br /&gt;But he could be a God.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-6137113530697303639?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/6137113530697303639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=6137113530697303639' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6137113530697303639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6137113530697303639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/01/they-might-be-gods.html' title='They might be Gods'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-4208325459762154007</id><published>2010-01-24T14:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T14:26:16.403-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><title type='text'>Stay Right Here</title><content type='html'>I just wanna stay right here&lt;br /&gt;Can I live on the cusp of this reality&lt;br /&gt;for the rest of my reality?&lt;br /&gt;Can I recycle my breath&lt;br /&gt;and retain these sights for later use?&lt;br /&gt;I don't wanna grow up no more&lt;br /&gt;I take it all back.&lt;br /&gt;Let me just stay right here&lt;br /&gt;In my room on my bed&lt;br /&gt;Staring at the wall&lt;br /&gt;Grasping each second that&lt;br /&gt;passes through my fingers&lt;br /&gt;Trying not to move&lt;br /&gt;Because movement equals&lt;br /&gt;progress and progess equals&lt;br /&gt;Time Lasped&lt;br /&gt;and...&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna stay right here&lt;br /&gt;Laying under you&lt;br /&gt;Letting your weight crush &lt;br /&gt;all doubts and uncertainties about&lt;br /&gt;how we feel for each other&lt;br /&gt;Can you stay right here&lt;br /&gt;Can you never get on that flight&lt;br /&gt;and leave?&lt;br /&gt;Can we stay intertwined in each other&lt;br /&gt;Let time stop like a traffic jam&lt;br /&gt;All around us&lt;br /&gt;Let this moment expand until it goes&lt;br /&gt;all around the world and comes back twice&lt;br /&gt;Kissing you with a new found appreciation&lt;br /&gt;cause our time has come&lt;br /&gt;And we both realized it &lt;br /&gt;was too short&lt;br /&gt;Can I just stay right here&lt;br /&gt;sitting on my sisters bed.&lt;br /&gt;Laughing like only we can&lt;br /&gt;Or fighting like only we can&lt;br /&gt;Can each laugh hit notes&lt;br /&gt;in the universe that allow the &lt;br /&gt;God of time to make it stop &lt;br /&gt;just for the rest of my little life&lt;br /&gt;Can I just remind her of an inside joke&lt;br /&gt;that sends us in a secret frenzy&lt;br /&gt;only for eternity?&lt;br /&gt;Can I just stay right here?&lt;br /&gt;Can my tears take years to drop&lt;br /&gt;So that I appreciate every salty&lt;br /&gt;particle they contain?&lt;br /&gt;Maybe if i write this poem&lt;br /&gt;long enough it &lt;br /&gt;can immortalize&lt;br /&gt;and account for&lt;br /&gt;every seconds that's past?&lt;br /&gt;Can I just stay right here?&lt;br /&gt;Cause life just moves too fast...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-4208325459762154007?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/4208325459762154007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=4208325459762154007' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/4208325459762154007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/4208325459762154007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2010/01/stay-right-here.html' title='Stay Right Here'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-3956596492238009471</id><published>2009-12-27T21:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-27T22:39:34.691-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2009'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='2010'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='changes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new year'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>New Year? yeah...New Year.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/SzhPDdIkt-I/AAAAAAAAAIo/Xhn4A_4JIPk/s1600-h/jay+bay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/SzhPDdIkt-I/AAAAAAAAAIo/Xhn4A_4JIPk/s320/jay+bay.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420169072319182818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;Dear 2009&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;You sho' was interesting.&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;br /&gt;You have got to be the most life changing year since...oh I don't know, 1991? I graduated this year and finally closed that chapter in my life that seemed so, so, so, long; high school. But the funniest part is that now high school seems the shortest. And the least serious. And I guess it was. The most important things in high school were clothes and boys. Now I'm at the age were the shit I do affects the rest of my life,&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; like forreal.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Oh...2009. You were a wild one. I suffered the death of my Uncle Tony, but I gained the gift of my nephew Jay. Lost a few inches in the length of my hair, but gained new confidence in my self image. Took a blow to my pride when it came to Drexel, but gained resilience. In fact i might have dodged a bullet, since UMBC is wayyyy more affordable, and &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;rank's higher than Drexel on the Top Up and Coming College's and Universities.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;In fact, we're number 1. :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may have a semester to make up, but while off, I made a cool amount of money, as well as affect the lives of some great kids, learn about myself and others, cement a real relationship with Jesus, get my driving license, practically fall in love, master the art of frying plantains, take aerial classes, discover my true passions, start my first screenplay and book of poetry, &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;AND buy a shitload of clothes and shoes whenever I wanted too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I'd say 2009, you were pretty good to me.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure we had our moments, but I came out stronger for each one. Sure, my life went completely off track, but that just taught me my most valuable lesson.&lt;blockquote&gt; "I don't control shit, I can only try my best, and be content knowing that I did everything I said I would ."&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;br /&gt;But I do feel as if, I lost sooo much this year, like for instance, my false sense of self. Or maybe I shed a few of my insecurities. Definitely lost my opinions of a lot of people, true colors shone this year. I've lost some of the expectations I had for myself as well as others. Dont' know if that's good or bad.&lt;br /&gt;And most of all, lost that big ass impending debt I would have had, had I attended Drexel this year. LOL&lt;br /&gt;In all honesty, I could go on and on about you 2009.&lt;br /&gt; But why should I? You and me are through. &lt;br /&gt;When I think back on everything we did, all the secrets we shared, all the times I cried or laughed, I'll have no choice but to smile,&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt; because although you were important, you didn't make or break make me, you changed me.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;And I made to the other side. After December 31st, you'll be officially another year I lived through. &lt;blockquote&gt;And I thank God for you.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt; Nia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-3956596492238009471?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/3956596492238009471/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=3956596492238009471' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/3956596492238009471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/3956596492238009471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-year-yeahnew-year.html' title='New Year? yeah...New Year.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/SzhPDdIkt-I/AAAAAAAAAIo/Xhn4A_4JIPk/s72-c/jay+bay.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-9035793297491580277</id><published>2009-12-14T17:34:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-14T17:57:08.092-08:00</updated><title type='text'>for him.</title><content type='html'>More like a burden&lt;br /&gt;Than a gift&lt;br /&gt;More like a secret &lt;br /&gt;Balled in my fist&lt;br /&gt;My virginity has chained me.&lt;br /&gt;Like Juicy Charms on a  bracelet&lt;br /&gt;Like diamonds on an anklet.&lt;br /&gt;Like my ancestors  on the slave ship.&lt;br /&gt;Ball and chain it is.&lt;br /&gt;I’m reminded of it’s existence&lt;br /&gt;Whenever he tries to hit this.&lt;br /&gt;Kissing on my neck &lt;br /&gt;Rubbing on my thighs&lt;br /&gt;Can’t help but get wet&lt;br /&gt;The way he look into my eyes&lt;br /&gt;Times like this it’s my v-card &lt;br /&gt;I despise.&lt;br /&gt;Makes me weigh the outcome of &lt;br /&gt;A couple of hickeys on my chest&lt;br /&gt;Makes me wanna be like all the rest.&lt;br /&gt;Able and willing to have sex.&lt;br /&gt;And it’s not that I don’t want to&lt;br /&gt;It’s just that I can’t.&lt;br /&gt;Not yet atleast I don’t think.&lt;br /&gt;I’m waiting for something&lt;br /&gt;But you keep pushing me to the brink.&lt;br /&gt;Keep saying the right things&lt;br /&gt;Spending your time.&lt;br /&gt;Keep acting like you wanna be mine.&lt;br /&gt;And every time you make me laugh&lt;br /&gt;I feel the ball and chain drag&lt;br /&gt;V-card keep the chastity belt on tight&lt;br /&gt;Locked on my mind. &lt;br /&gt;It’s hard, but I think it’s worth it right?&lt;br /&gt;At first I knew what I was holding for&lt;br /&gt;Didn’t want to be considered a whore&lt;br /&gt;And then it became something I have &lt;br /&gt;Just because no one ever took it. &lt;br /&gt;But you tryna blow the dust off like an &lt;br /&gt;Abandoned book.&lt;br /&gt;You trying swipe the card till it’s nothing left&lt;br /&gt;But I’m trying my hardest not to let you.&lt;br /&gt;Of course I wanna see how you put it on me&lt;br /&gt;Of course I wanna climb the walls in ecstasy&lt;br /&gt;Of course I wanna ride it&lt;br /&gt;Of course I wanna scream&lt;br /&gt;But I’m just not ready….&lt;br /&gt;i think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-9035793297491580277?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/9035793297491580277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=9035793297491580277' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/9035793297491580277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/9035793297491580277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/12/for-him.html' title='for him.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-4185034586398207740</id><published>2009-11-28T21:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-28T21:42:29.384-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='For My Momma and&apos;em'/><title type='text'>Sampler: For My Momma and 'em; Holy Mothers</title><content type='html'>***So I'm trying to publish a book of poetry about motherhood, this is the first poem I wrote on the subject which made me wanna keep going. Comment please***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holy Mothers&lt;br /&gt;She wishes you'd&lt;br /&gt;SCREAM...&lt;br /&gt;As loud as the deacon's sunday best.&lt;br /&gt;As long as the sermon.&lt;br /&gt;Sitting under a nonexistent fan&lt;br /&gt;As the preacher preaches about a "Godly man"&lt;br /&gt;To the woman folk and the four old men, who actually attend.&lt;br /&gt;Side eyes to the only female minister who can't become reverend cause she never went to school&lt;br /&gt;She wipes clean her dingy white shirt of baby drool.&lt;br /&gt;This store front church,&lt;br /&gt;"Sittin at God's Feet! Baptist Church of God and the People"&lt;br /&gt;...and my momma and 'em..&lt;br /&gt;The preacher man spit flings as he condemns a haughty woman, who is unclean.&lt;br /&gt;He straightens his gold and platinum  wedding ring.&lt;br /&gt;Plays with the knot in his tie.&lt;br /&gt;Wipes sweat from a furrowed brow.&lt;br /&gt;The sisters in the front row&lt;br /&gt;Don't notice these things&lt;br /&gt;All they see is a man of God&lt;br /&gt;Who drives a BMW, got a good job,  and power&lt;br /&gt;....and a wife and kids&lt;br /&gt;They admire him among other things.&lt;br /&gt;Ample behinds and lace covered legs shift during sermons.&lt;br /&gt;Moisture in inappropriate places on a sunday morning.&lt;br /&gt;The reasoning behind why  his following consist of women. Beautiful women who wanna live right&lt;br /&gt;But can only find corner boys for husbands, if they're that lucky.&lt;br /&gt;Coming to see the pastor is their religion, his sweat, vigor, and rhythm.&lt;br /&gt;Throw a hand in the air, instead of panties.&lt;br /&gt;Holy Ghost orgasms and heels cracked from stomping.&lt;br /&gt;She wish they'd...&lt;br /&gt;SCREAM...&lt;br /&gt;For her when she preaches.&lt;br /&gt;But, she can't get a hand clap&lt;br /&gt;Or respect.&lt;br /&gt;Bastard of a four year old child, and she's only 20.&lt;br /&gt;Look down through your nose at her, it's the only way momma and 'em would ever see her.&lt;br /&gt;They don't scream for her&lt;br /&gt;Momma and 'em only scream for the Pastor or Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;But nobody can see just how much Minister son look like Pastor, except for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-4185034586398207740?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/4185034586398207740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=4185034586398207740' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/4185034586398207740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/4185034586398207740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/11/sampler-for-my-momma-and-em-holy.html' title='Sampler: For My Momma and &apos;em; Holy Mothers'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-7223108468275967319</id><published>2009-11-16T14:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T14:16:17.024-08:00</updated><title type='text'>gangsta grills</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nianicole/4109865559/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2495/4109865559_7e8d2c7cdb_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nianicole/4109865559/"&gt;gangsta grills&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/nianicole/"&gt;nianicole&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;p&gt;You like?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-7223108468275967319?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/7223108468275967319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=7223108468275967319' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7223108468275967319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7223108468275967319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/11/gangsta-grills.html' title='gangsta grills'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2495/4109865559_7e8d2c7cdb_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-167822144947116757</id><published>2009-11-16T14:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T14:08:17.588-08:00</updated><title type='text'>In Case You Care</title><content type='html'>Seems as if im about to make this blog more of a poetry blog.&lt;br /&gt;But just in case anyone cares about me personal life&lt;br /&gt;1. Going to UMBC! spring semester 2010&lt;br /&gt;2. Started a poetry club at my job. I love it!&lt;br /&gt;3.umm...I'm happy for the first time in a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-167822144947116757?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/167822144947116757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=167822144947116757' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/167822144947116757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/167822144947116757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/11/in-case-you-care.html' title='In Case You Care'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-8125624435773767469</id><published>2009-11-05T19:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T19:10:13.973-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-esteem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='young girls'/><title type='text'>Daddy's Lil Girl Pt. 1 (premature pregnancies)</title><content type='html'>(this will probably the next poem i try to remember, if i ever get the nerve to go and perform at a slam)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It just came outta me,&lt;br /&gt;Like a premature fetus&lt;br /&gt;That splattered were my feet was&lt;br /&gt;It called itself the light.&lt;br /&gt;And gave me a twenty dollar bill, so I can get some change.&lt;br /&gt;And now that  I got mines I'm tryna get you yours.&lt;br /&gt;But these girls don't seem to understand me, or even speak my language.&lt;br /&gt;Can't look past my articulation or college matriculation to believe the words I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a confrontation wit a young girl one day.&lt;br /&gt;She was this tall, brown skin, brown eyes,&lt;br /&gt;And she cut me like a knife when she broke down her life; told me that she couldn't even begin to tell me how many times she cried in her room cause some nigga didn't want her, couldn't love her, only wanted to fuck her.&lt;br /&gt;And I was her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was you little girl...till something miraculous came into my world.&lt;br /&gt;Till this thing I birthed pushed it's luminous light out of my body, and I've been trying to tell everyone since.&lt;br /&gt;Will you be the first to believe that I accomplished this feat, something like learning how to ride a bike without my daddy behind me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;It was the Immaculate Conception when I birthed my self some self esteem.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was healthy and brown, and there is no father around.&lt;br /&gt;I did that shit by myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pregnant by my pen at the tender age of twelve, and I started showing, so you could say my pride started to swell. The pregnancy was long and hard and sometimes even lonely&lt;br /&gt;See daddy couldn't be there even if he wanted, he was six feet under before I was in the double digits, left me scratching a round belly asking what is this?&lt;br /&gt;My questions were left unmarked like a sat problem, and instead of asking for help, I did that shit myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wrote my name on the test and drew stick figures out of the bubbles.&lt;br /&gt;My mentality was fuck it, ill solve my own troubles.&lt;br /&gt;Fuck a daddy, if he can't be here. I'll be my own damn daddy, and make sure I never go without.&lt;br /&gt;Fuck a test, fuck statistics and fuck all that doubt.&lt;br /&gt;I brought a crib wit the money I got from pawning my barbie dolls.&lt;br /&gt;And took my mom to Lamaze classes.&lt;br /&gt;Stopped hanging around those people that were influencing me to abort it,&lt;br /&gt;Said it wasn't my responsibility, said a father is supposed to provide a young girl with emotional security and self esteem.&lt;br /&gt;And that its not right to do go about it alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there was no father, and the boys I wanted didn't want a young girl who was to proud and pregnant with possibilities.&lt;br /&gt;It just made their job harder it seems.&lt;br /&gt;So it was just me.&lt;br /&gt;Until the delivery, which happened before I thought it would&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I screamed, you came to soon!&lt;br /&gt;It said, I came right on time and I've been incubated in your mind and now it's time for me to shine.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it was right and it was mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was my light, my truth, my way, I didn't owe this to no one but me.&lt;br /&gt;My self-esteem didn't come from a loving daddy.&lt;br /&gt;It came from me.&lt;br /&gt;Spawned by my imagination&lt;br /&gt;Fertilized by a mothers faith&lt;br /&gt;Covered in the blood of Jesus&lt;br /&gt;And spoken into the world by me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-8125624435773767469?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/8125624435773767469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=8125624435773767469' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/8125624435773767469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/8125624435773767469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/11/daddys-lil-girl-pt-1-premature.html' title='Daddy&apos;s Lil Girl Pt. 1 (premature pregnancies)'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-7095885217307030837</id><published>2009-11-05T19:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T19:52:58.885-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='black boys'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='babies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MTA'/><title type='text'>The 13</title><content type='html'>Today I saw a beautiful black baby boy on the bus and I thought so many things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;What will your life become?&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;How much tragedy you could bring?&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By looking at your mother&lt;br /&gt;I knew you never had a chance&lt;br /&gt;She had vengeful regret stains caked around her mouth.&lt;br /&gt;Eyes with complacency filled bags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your nose it was runny&lt;br /&gt;White crust around your eyes as if you had been crying.&lt;br /&gt;Where you crying lil man?&lt;br /&gt;And if so what was it about.&lt;br /&gt;It shouldn't have been worrisome because your physical age is only 4.&lt;br /&gt;But it was, cause to your mother your age is so much more.&lt;br /&gt;Your the age that she was when she noticed her surroundings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;And began to walk in the path of her mother, as if when she was born the doctor exclaimed&lt;br /&gt;"Teenage pregnancy, let the circle be unbroken"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Multiply that by the number of times you've been taught your neighborhood gang sign&lt;br /&gt;Subtract the number of times you've seen father&lt;br /&gt;And then your age becomes equal than or less than your mothers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lil man, &lt;strong&gt;I could rewrite the bible with the story of your life.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would tell how you were born on what seemed an average night.&lt;br /&gt;Another ghetto black boy born is never a spectacular sight.&lt;br /&gt;But it is to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lil man, I wish I could turn back the hands of time and show you your history.&lt;br /&gt;It's a powerful thing to know &lt;strong&gt;your a direct descendant of kings&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;It would teach you pride, hope, morals amongst other things.&lt;br /&gt;Teach you that &lt;strong&gt;it's never cool to make a woman cry&lt;/strong&gt;, how you should live your life with honor and go respectfully when you die.&lt;br /&gt;Teach that the alternate high to weed is self-esteem&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;And that when you truly love yourself than you grow to respect all living things.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lil man, I would if I could, but I can't cause this is my stop.&lt;br /&gt;But the real ride is just beginning for you and I wish you the best of luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know you can be anything you set your mind to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Teacher, lover, lawyer, friend, gang banger, baby daddy, drugdealer kingpin.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This world will pull you many so ways, have your mother grieving for days.&lt;br /&gt;Getting to the point where I ponder having children cause I don't ever wanna feel that pain.&lt;br /&gt;So remember all that was exchanged in this ten second glance, and don't forget yourself when your out there taking chances.&lt;br /&gt;Don't let your life become as tragic as the songs Billie holiday used to sing.&lt;br /&gt;You smile a sweet childish smile as my stop approaches and the bell rings.&lt;br /&gt;As if to say, &lt;strong&gt;"don't worry about me sis, I'm goin be okay."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Today I saw a beautiful black baby boy and I thought so many things.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-7095885217307030837?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/7095885217307030837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=7095885217307030837' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7095885217307030837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7095885217307030837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/11/13.html' title='The 13'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-7972249748138711821</id><published>2009-11-05T19:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T19:04:25.970-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='faith'/><title type='text'>The Process</title><content type='html'>My world is changing.&lt;br /&gt;Faster than I ever thought it would.&lt;br /&gt;Seeing things and doing things I thought I never could.&lt;br /&gt;My heart it beat slowly&lt;br /&gt;Like the calm before the storm&lt;br /&gt;And my eyes stream gently&lt;br /&gt;Bitter sweet tear drops, so warm.&lt;br /&gt;From one issue to the next&lt;br /&gt;From closed doors to bounced checks.&lt;br /&gt;If I don't make it down this road I don't know what I’ll do next.&lt;br /&gt;This is the life I thought deserved, the life I thought I would get, this life could lead to lead me to victory, or even regret.&lt;br /&gt;Lord knows my zapatos aint never been opposed to walking.&lt;br /&gt;But I don't got the stamina&lt;br /&gt;And I hear the vultures squawking.&lt;br /&gt;It's like I'm lost now.&lt;br /&gt;And my great wall of confidence is falling down&lt;br /&gt;All around me&lt;br /&gt;Like I'm blinded by my own light&lt;br /&gt;But my Lord says its not my fight.&lt;br /&gt;And God willing the next time that plane of opportunity touches down, it'll be my flight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-7972249748138711821?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/7972249748138711821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=7972249748138711821' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7972249748138711821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7972249748138711821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/11/process.html' title='The Process'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-4679347740624765081</id><published>2009-11-05T19:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T19:44:41.387-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chances'/><title type='text'>Plan B</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Plan B is never as good as plan A.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why it's plan b.&lt;br /&gt;When dealing with plan B, just try not to be bitter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Bitterness is unattractive, and good people survive horrid situations with the plastic plastered smile of courage on their face.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's hard to remain that same person after you've had your heart broken.&lt;br /&gt;I used to be as deep as the pacific, but life is turning me shallow.&lt;br /&gt;Shallow is safe and safe is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Safe is the relief you feel at the confirmation of your suspicions, "I knew his ass was cheating!"&lt;br /&gt;Safe is the comatose like state you drink yourself into after the divorce papers are filed.&lt;br /&gt;Safe is the realization that you don't need a man, cause they all ain't shit anyway.&lt;br /&gt;Safe is telling your daughters that being a doctor is out of there reach and nursing is more realistic.&lt;br /&gt;Safe is ignoring that burning sensation when peeing, cause your afraid to get tested.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plan A was so much more dangerous. Plan B can only be less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Plan B is safe and simple, the man you settled for cause your ovaries are withered with your deferred dreams of brown skin sons named Rashad.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all though he doesn't love you like a tornado or overwhelm your senses like a tsunami, he has a good job and treats his mother right.&lt;br /&gt;And a girl can only stand so many sleepless nights of pining away for plan A.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plan A, now that was a plan.&lt;br /&gt;It was smooth on the inside and shiny on the out, looked like it talked like it knew was the shit.&lt;br /&gt;Plan A was the first thing you thought about when you woke up and sang you to sleep at night.&lt;br /&gt;Plan A was first.&lt;br /&gt;Plan A was right.&lt;br /&gt;Plan A smeared your eyesight so you saw nothing but plan A.&lt;br /&gt;So when plan A disappeared you stop seeing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;It's hard to accept  blindness when your whole identity was built around vision.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't even imagine what a plan B would look like.&lt;br /&gt;You were like plan B? What's that?&lt;br /&gt;You learned that plan B was the option after the first.&lt;br /&gt;The stars when you can't reach the moon.&lt;br /&gt;Not the silver or the gold but the bronze.&lt;br /&gt;A dream deferred into something less....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You wanted Jimmy Choo's?&lt;br /&gt;But all they got are Steve Madden&lt;br /&gt;You thought he had a condom on? Girl you better get a plan B!&lt;br /&gt;Life is one big plan B.&lt;/strong&gt;Wouldn't you have wanted heaven?&lt;br /&gt;Is it so wrong to want what you want and think you deserve it?&lt;br /&gt;Your life is a plan B.&lt;br /&gt;Because your dad wanted a son.&lt;br /&gt;So swallow that giant wad of plan B seed, but spit it out only when life isn't looking&lt;br /&gt;Cause if you let it grow inside you&lt;br /&gt;You become bitter with plan B. And good people don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Good people survive horrid situations with the plastic plastered smile of courage on their face.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-4679347740624765081?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/4679347740624765081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=4679347740624765081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/4679347740624765081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/4679347740624765081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/11/plan-b.html' title='Plan B'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-7754208705887782124</id><published>2009-11-05T18:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T19:02:21.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poetry Overload?</title><content type='html'>I'm emptying out my blackberry with a shitload of poetry&lt;br /&gt;Just cause i feel like it. &lt;br /&gt;Leave comments. And this means you shatyia and jen..lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-7754208705887782124?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/7754208705887782124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=7754208705887782124' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7754208705887782124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7754208705887782124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/11/poetry-overload.html' title='Poetry Overload?'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-2521019671937344833</id><published>2009-11-05T18:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T18:47:58.991-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='running'/><title type='text'>Running</title><content type='html'>I thought could run from him&lt;br /&gt;But I can't.&lt;br /&gt;This man who loves me like no other&lt;br /&gt;I was made to love him&lt;br /&gt;Afraid of what others would think of me if I gave him my heart&lt;br /&gt;Ran like hell from what I knew would eventually catch up with me.&lt;br /&gt;I used to wonder why I would be so unhappy,&lt;br /&gt;Expecting the world to pay back what I thought they owe me.&lt;br /&gt;Looking for my joy, in his arms&lt;br /&gt;And their clubs, those shoes, and dollar bills.&lt;br /&gt;Mindless mumbling zombie whistling the capitalism theme song in my head.&lt;br /&gt;Cash rules everything around me, cream get the money dollar dollar bills yall.&lt;br /&gt;But naw, it didn't take away the pain.&lt;br /&gt;Money compared to him is like a band aid versus the cure,&lt;br /&gt;The biggest hit he certainly was, making all other things obscure.&lt;br /&gt;But I was afraid of his love thought I was unworthy,&lt;br /&gt;Thought you had to be pure and whole to be with him,&lt;br /&gt;And certainly I was dirty.&lt;br /&gt;There would be times I would be amazed at his love,&lt;br /&gt;And this impacted  my own spirituality.&lt;br /&gt;Times where my whole life seemed to fall in peace,&lt;br /&gt;Sent my mind in spirals tryna to figure out what this was.&lt;br /&gt;Till one day I didn't have to wonder no more,&lt;br /&gt;Cause the love I feel now, it has always been, and always was, nothing but God&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-2521019671937344833?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/2521019671937344833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=2521019671937344833' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2521019671937344833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2521019671937344833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/11/running.html' title='Running'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-242061099479444291</id><published>2009-10-28T15:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T15:43:36.155-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How I Felt All Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nianicole/4054169972/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2622/4054169972_093ee5cd68_m.jpg" alt="" style="border: solid 2px #000000;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.9em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nianicole/4054169972/"&gt;How I Felt All Night&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/nianicole/"&gt;nianicole&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br clear="all" /&gt;&lt;p&gt;When did you first fall in love with Hip Hop?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could never really answer that question cause Hip Hop has always been there, I take it for granted. Sometimes I don't like it, but I do love it. Anyway I learned this last night when I realized I was in Love with Hip Hop. &lt;br /&gt;I fell in love with Hip Hop, on October 27th at the First Mariner Arena. At Jay-Z's show. That show showed me that I never really had a choice in the matter. I was born with the burden.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-242061099479444291?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/242061099479444291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=242061099479444291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/242061099479444291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/242061099479444291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/10/how-i-felt-all-night.html' title='How I Felt All Night'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2622/4054169972_093ee5cd68_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-1683629428393775875</id><published>2009-10-28T15:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T15:44:22.027-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jayZ'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hip hop'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>One Night w/ HOVA</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="400" height="300"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="offsite=true&amp;lang=en-us&amp;page_show_url=%2Fphotos%2Fnianicole%2Fsets%2F72157622560102003%2Fshow%2F&amp;page_show_back_url=%2Fphotos%2Fnianicole%2Fsets%2F72157622560102003%2F&amp;set_id=72157622560102003&amp;jump_to="&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/slideshow/show.swf?v=71649"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/slideshow/show.swf?v=71649" allowFullScreen="true" flashvars="offsite=true&amp;lang=en-us&amp;page_show_url=%2Fphotos%2Fnianicole%2Fsets%2F72157622560102003%2Fshow%2F&amp;page_show_back_url=%2Fphotos%2Fnianicole%2Fsets%2F72157622560102003%2F&amp;set_id=72157622560102003&amp;jump_to=" width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-1683629428393775875?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/1683629428393775875/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=1683629428393775875' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1683629428393775875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1683629428393775875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/10/one-night-w-hova.html' title='One Night w/ HOVA'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-6351285395246109971</id><published>2009-10-19T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T09:44:42.174-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='natural hair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='icon'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='style'/><title type='text'>Monday's Style Icon</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Thank you Black Girl with Long Hair!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Being featured has made my week, month, year...lol&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-6351285395246109971?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://blackgirllonghair.blogspot.com/2009/10/monday-style-icon-nia-from-baltimore.html' title='Monday&apos;s Style Icon'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/6351285395246109971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=6351285395246109971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6351285395246109971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6351285395246109971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/10/blog-post.html' title='Monday&apos;s Style Icon'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-7259531514266447849</id><published>2009-10-13T20:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T21:14:30.030-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><title type='text'>"Be." (for shatyia)</title><content type='html'>She just want to be&lt;br /&gt;-long.&lt;br /&gt;That explained the colors she wore&lt;br /&gt;the way she dressed, the way she spoke&lt;br /&gt;the things she thought.&lt;br /&gt;See, it started before her,&lt;br /&gt;this phenom of "be-long"&lt;br /&gt;some say it's in the genes&lt;br /&gt;No, not her "Trues"&lt;br /&gt;but her TRUTH&lt;br /&gt;See this is a way of life for her.&lt;br /&gt;This is all she knows&lt;br /&gt;Her birth rite&lt;br /&gt;Her birth mark&lt;br /&gt;Her pressure grows and grows&lt;br /&gt;Cause see, she just wanted to be&lt;br /&gt;-loved.&lt;br /&gt;Really.&lt;br /&gt;Cause ain't that what it's all about&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the day.&lt;br /&gt;Who loves you, bay?&lt;br /&gt;Cause for her, it damn sure wasn't Momma&lt;br /&gt;We all know what Momma loved.&lt;br /&gt;And Daddy we'll he was a statistic&lt;br /&gt;the world took him away a long time ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as far as she knew&lt;br /&gt;she was all she had&lt;br /&gt;she thought she would be&lt;br /&gt;-alone&lt;br /&gt;her whole life&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So she seeks to be&lt;br /&gt;-long&lt;br /&gt;Anywhere that will take her&lt;br /&gt;and take her they did.&lt;br /&gt;Mind, Body, Soul&lt;br /&gt;and then some&lt;br /&gt;until it's nothing left.&lt;br /&gt;She couldn't be&lt;br /&gt;-lieve&lt;br /&gt;Her life.&lt;br /&gt;Mixing her wants with her needs&lt;br /&gt;and henny with weed&lt;br /&gt;Damn.&lt;br /&gt;That shit had her gone.&lt;br /&gt;Said she was mixing that&lt;br /&gt;PCP with that E&lt;br /&gt;her wants and her needs&lt;br /&gt;that shit had her gone.&lt;br /&gt;Took her higher. Higher &lt;br /&gt;Than she could imagine.&lt;br /&gt;Right off the ground &lt;br /&gt;Past the moon&lt;br /&gt;and the stars&lt;br /&gt;through the clouds&lt;br /&gt;and threw her on Heavens front porch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Atleast i like to think so&lt;br /&gt;Cause see, it's sad to see a homegirl&lt;br /&gt;fall apart cause she can't maintain&lt;br /&gt;see her crumble and crack when &lt;br /&gt;things fall outta wack&lt;br /&gt;When all she wanted was to be&lt;br /&gt;-long&lt;br /&gt;I mean be&lt;br /&gt;-loved&lt;br /&gt;I mean be&lt;br /&gt;-long.&lt;br /&gt;She just wanted to be-long.&lt;br /&gt;She just wanted to be-loved.&lt;br /&gt;Can't ya'll see?&lt;br /&gt;But why, why couldn't she just BE?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-7259531514266447849?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/7259531514266447849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=7259531514266447849' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7259531514266447849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7259531514266447849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/10/be-for-shatyia.html' title='&quot;Be.&quot; (for shatyia)'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-4361472914599091997</id><published>2009-10-03T18:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T20:34:43.506-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Daddy.</title><content type='html'>Crowded House has become one of my favorite bands. I heard "don't dream it's over" before, but i fell in love with it while watching "Adventure Land" which was kinda crappy, but the soundtrack was wonderful.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...it's my Dad's birthday. I forgot. But was reminded. It's weird because i really don't think of him as much as i used to. And the crying doesn't hurt as much. &lt;br /&gt;But there's still tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this song makes me think about him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't Dream It's Over."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is freedom within, there is freedom without&lt;br /&gt;Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup&lt;br /&gt;Theres a battle ahead, many battles are lost&lt;br /&gt;But you'll never see the end of the road&lt;br /&gt;While youre travelling with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey now, hey now&lt;br /&gt;Dont dream its over&lt;br /&gt;Hey now, hey now&lt;br /&gt;When the world comes in&lt;br /&gt;They come, they come&lt;br /&gt;To build a wall between us&lt;br /&gt;We know they wont win&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Im towing my car, theres a hole in the roof&lt;br /&gt;My possessions are causing me suspicion but theres no proof&lt;br /&gt;In the paper today tales of war and of waste&lt;br /&gt;But you turn right over to the t.v. page&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey now, hey now&lt;br /&gt;Dont dream its over&lt;br /&gt;Hey now, hey now&lt;br /&gt;When the world comes in&lt;br /&gt;They come, they come&lt;br /&gt;To build a wall between us&lt;br /&gt;We know they wont win&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Im walking again to the beat of a drum&lt;br /&gt;And Im counting the steps to the door of your heart&lt;br /&gt;Only shadows ahead barely clearing the roof&lt;br /&gt;Get to know the feeling of liberation and relief&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey now, hey now&lt;br /&gt;Dont dream its over&lt;br /&gt;Hey now, hey now&lt;br /&gt;When the world comes in&lt;br /&gt;They come, they come&lt;br /&gt;To build a wall between us&lt;br /&gt;Dont ever let them win&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-4361472914599091997?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/4361472914599091997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=4361472914599091997' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/4361472914599091997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/4361472914599091997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/10/happy-birthday-daddy.html' title='Happy Birthday Daddy.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-2746740675076159694</id><published>2009-09-29T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T19:44:02.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing's Gonna Change My World.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;Didn't make it to Drexel.&lt;br /&gt;Working. Writing. Sleeping. Praying.&lt;br /&gt;Pressed the re-set button on LIFE...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-2746740675076159694?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/2746740675076159694/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=2746740675076159694' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2746740675076159694'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2746740675076159694'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/09/nothings-gonna-change-my-world.html' title='Nothing&apos;s Gonna Change My World.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-7001890565939646187</id><published>2009-09-08T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T19:10:30.414-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Think about it. part 2?</title><content type='html'>So I'm on the web, looking up stuff, random stuff and I run across a list of indie films to see. Peeked my interest so I checked out the first page. And say no black faces as leads. &lt;br /&gt;Now, don't get me wrong, and I have been chastised by my friends for this so many times, but I'm sick of all white "indie" flicks. &lt;br /&gt;I love "Indie" flicks. Full of dirty shoes, vintage band tees and old school references. But can i please,please,please, get some with a couple black faces, puh-leaze!&lt;br /&gt;It would make my life if Nick was black in Nick and Nora's infinite Playlist.&lt;br /&gt;Or even if Juno was black. Like seriously, but than the media would make it a completely different film.&lt;br /&gt;Idk, just a random rant on what i want to see.&lt;br /&gt;That's why i started writing poetry, I couldn't find enough about what i wanted to hear about. Eh. Maybe I need to be the change I want to see, in the world of media.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-7001890565939646187?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/7001890565939646187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=7001890565939646187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7001890565939646187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7001890565939646187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/09/think-about-it-part-2.html' title='Think about it. part 2?'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-6675711689658027321</id><published>2009-09-08T15:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T16:14:52.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Think About It.</title><content type='html'>So that link led me to a great post on "image". Things we think make us who we are, but really just make up the way we look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And at first I was all like "yeah, fuck images!!"&lt;br /&gt;But than I thought about it, images make our world go round. &lt;blockquote&gt;Help to figure things out, and keep people in boxes, where they make more sense and are easier to control.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...interesting. But the funny part is, I don't even know what my image would be. Or look like. I think that's what I'm tryna make now. I think I'm confused.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-6675711689658027321?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='related' href='http://justmakeitbetter.com/2007/12/26/the-problem-with-image/' title='Think About It.'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/6675711689658027321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=6675711689658027321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6675711689658027321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6675711689658027321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/09/think-about-it.html' title='Think About It.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-3887864224188777895</id><published>2009-09-01T05:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T05:08:26.187-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes.</title><content type='html'>(This was insprired by Sandra Cisneros)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you have to wait.&lt;br /&gt;Like your sitting on a bus stop&lt;br /&gt;On the hottest day of the year and the trash can next to the bench is full and the flys are out and the bees are stinging and the fiends are hanging and the beggars are begging, and on top of all that your late for work.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you have to wait.&lt;br /&gt;Like all your friends are eighteen but you don't turn 18 till the end of the year, and your to mature to party with anyone your age or younger, and your too scared to use a fake Id, and you always have money, and the friend that was the same age as you can use her sisters Id, and most of the time you are all dressed up with no where to go.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you have to wait&lt;br /&gt;Like when you get accepted into a good college,and you think you can, but you really  can't afford it. And your fasfa appeal falls through, and all your friends are already in school, and you thought you were set, and you don't apply to any other school because your set, you know? And you get denied for a loan, and you miss late registration for all the other places, so your stuck, and your working at mcdonalds till next semester.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I hate waiting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-3887864224188777895?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/3887864224188777895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=3887864224188777895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/3887864224188777895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/3887864224188777895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/09/sometimes.html' title='Sometimes.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-2126385903182148424</id><published>2009-08-31T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T09:22:20.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Can't Be Life.</title><content type='html'>I'm stuck.&lt;br /&gt;I've learned that the worst thing for me is being stuck. I hate this. I can deal with death, and dissapointment, and change, and even boredom. But I can't feel stuck. Trapped. Claustrophobic. &lt;br /&gt;It's horrible.&lt;br /&gt;This school sitiuation is The Worst. &lt;br /&gt;Still haven't given up on the Drexel Dream, but if it doesn't work, realisticly it's looking like that, I have to wait till Janurary to go to Morgan. &lt;br /&gt;So I'm stuck. &lt;br /&gt;In my mother's house, still underage, so it's not that many options. I might as well be in my Senior Year of High School again.&lt;br /&gt;This shit is almost unbeliavble. &lt;br /&gt;I don't think I know another person who wants there education as much as myself&lt;br /&gt;but I'm so far away from it, about 15000 dollars, away. &lt;br /&gt;But I can't even cry about it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I just want to move on.&lt;br /&gt;Not Drexel? Fine, let's go some where else.&lt;br /&gt;But what happens when there's no where else to go.&lt;br /&gt;I never even thought about that. &lt;br /&gt;And I usually think about everything. &lt;br /&gt;Damn. I guess this is what a dream deffered feels like.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-2126385903182148424?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/2126385903182148424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=2126385903182148424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2126385903182148424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2126385903182148424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/08/this-cant-be-life.html' title='This Can&apos;t Be Life.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-972727383493788922</id><published>2009-08-23T21:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T22:20:02.294-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><title type='text'>My Day. Through Song.</title><content type='html'>It's late. &lt;br /&gt;I'm just gonna run through my day, fast. &lt;br /&gt;Problem= -20,000 dollar* 2 denied loans+ no co-signer=no college for nia.&lt;br /&gt;Damn, forreal?&lt;br /&gt;Yup.&lt;br /&gt;Idk what i'll do. &lt;br /&gt;Earlier today, I was wondering if I dream too big.&lt;br /&gt;Is there even such a thing?&lt;br /&gt;Morning&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;div style="width:300px;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/x_GW5GRlJX"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/x_GW5GRlJX" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="background-color:#E6E6E6;padding:1px;"&gt;&lt;div style="float:left;padding:4px 4px 0 0;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/" border="0"  /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin:0;padding:0;"&gt;&lt;input type="text" name="EmbedSearchBox" /&gt;&lt;input type="submit" value="Search" style="font-size:12px;" /&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top:3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;ek=x_GW5GRlJX" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;ek=x_GW5GRlJX" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;ek=x_GW5GRlJX" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;ek=x_GW5GRlJX" rel="nofollow" &gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/x_GW5GRlJX/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/artists/a_tribe_called_quest/music/sXWwO_3e/a-tribe-called-quest-featuring-faith-evans-stressed-out/"&gt;Stressed Out - A Tribe Called Quest featuring Faith Evans&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Church&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width:300px;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/9zY9FfKTPG"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/9zY9FfKTPG" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="background-color:#E6E6E6;padding:1px;"&gt;&lt;div style="float:left;padding:4px 4px 0 0;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/" border="0"  /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin:0;padding:0;"&gt;&lt;input type="text" name="EmbedSearchBox" /&gt;&lt;input type="submit" value="Search" style="font-size:12px;" /&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top:3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;ek=9zY9FfKTPG" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;ek=9zY9FfKTPG" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;ek=9zY9FfKTPG" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;ek=9zY9FfKTPG" rel="nofollow" &gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/9zY9FfKTPG/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/people/aktYTX/music/hL01Ua-E/kirk-franklin-more-than-i-can-bear/"&gt;More Than I Can Bear - Kirk Franklin&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later at Grandma's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width:300px;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/OdLdsTYZvq"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/OdLdsTYZvq" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="background-color:#E6E6E6;padding:1px;"&gt;&lt;div style="float:left;padding:4px 4px 0 0;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/" border="0"  /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin:0;padding:0;"&gt;&lt;input type="text" name="EmbedSearchBox" /&gt;&lt;input type="submit" value="Search" style="font-size:12px;" /&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top:3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;ek=OdLdsTYZvq" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;ek=OdLdsTYZvq" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;ek=OdLdsTYZvq" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;ek=OdLdsTYZvq" rel="nofollow" &gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/OdLdsTYZvq/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/people/CpzOo/music/Ty01nAOD/kelly-price-i-told-the-storm/"&gt;I Told The Storm - Kelly Price&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Nichee's going away cookout-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width:300px;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/2TixLaJaSJ"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/2TixLaJaSJ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="background-color:#E6E6E6;padding:1px;"&gt;&lt;div style="float:left;padding:4px 4px 0 0;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/" border="0"  /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin:0;padding:0;"&gt;&lt;input type="text" name="EmbedSearchBox" /&gt;&lt;input type="submit" value="Search" style="font-size:12px;" /&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top:3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;ek=2TixLaJaSJ" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;ek=2TixLaJaSJ" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;ek=2TixLaJaSJ" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;ek=2TixLaJaSJ" rel="nofollow" &gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/2TixLaJaSJ/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/acejackson/music/SX0KOeBX/a-tribe-called-quest-8-millions-stories/"&gt;8 Millions Stories - A Tribe Called Quest&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around the time we get to Jalee-lee's&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width:300px;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/2xzPgt57tJ"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/2xzPgt57tJ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="background-color:#E6E6E6;padding:1px;"&gt;&lt;div style="float:left;padding:4px 4px 0 0;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/" border="0"  /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin:0;padding:0;"&gt;&lt;input type="text" name="EmbedSearchBox" /&gt;&lt;input type="submit" value="Search" style="font-size:12px;" /&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top:3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;ek=2xzPgt57tJ" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;ek=2xzPgt57tJ" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;ek=2xzPgt57tJ" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;ek=2xzPgt57tJ" rel="nofollow" &gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/2xzPgt57tJ/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/yeawhat3v3r/music/2oXV_-FU/michael-jackson-off-the-wall/"&gt;Off The Wall - Michael Jackson&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width:300px;"&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="110"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/9n-VexskQm"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/9n-VexskQm" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style="background-color:#E6E6E6;padding:1px;"&gt;&lt;div style="float:left;padding:4px 4px 0 0;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/" border="0"  /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin:0;padding:0;"&gt;&lt;input type="text" name="EmbedSearchBox" /&gt;&lt;input type="submit" value="Search" style="font-size:12px;" /&gt;&lt;div style="padding-top:3px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&amp;ek=9n-VexskQm" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&amp;ek=9n-VexskQm" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&amp;ek=9n-VexskQm" rel="nofollow"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&amp;ek=9n-VexskQm" rel="nofollow" &gt;&lt;img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/9n-VexskQm/" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/pjocciano/music/9hma4VDT/melanie-fiona-ay-yo-illadelphonics-live-remix/"&gt;Ay Yo (Illadelphonics Live Remix) - Melanie Fiona&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eh. It was a long day. &lt;br /&gt;All I know is, growing up knowing the Lord is paying off.&lt;br /&gt;And I love my friends.&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't see myself without them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-972727383493788922?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/972727383493788922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=972727383493788922' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/972727383493788922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/972727383493788922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-day-through-song.html' title='My Day. Through Song.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-2462843316284347114</id><published>2009-08-22T14:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-22T14:45:44.420-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bored'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rain'/><title type='text'>Random Thoughts on a Rainy Day</title><content type='html'>I was supposed to be outside today.&lt;br /&gt;I was supposed to be at Dru Hill Park, with my friends.&lt;br /&gt;It was supposed to be all five of us, for the last time before they go off to college.&lt;br /&gt;But instead I was inside, layed up on the couch, with my feet on my Mom's lap.&lt;br /&gt;Then I got on the computer and did this thing that i need to stop doing.&lt;br /&gt;Started dreaming about the future.&lt;br /&gt;Tsk.Tsk.Tsk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;The more i dream about the future, the less i actually do about it.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll literally spend a whole hour dreaming about something, and forget to write about it.&lt;br /&gt;And then at like twelve or two in the morning, I'll be possessed by the writing demon.&lt;br /&gt;And just write about the random-ist subjects.&lt;br /&gt;I wrote my idea for a screenplay about weed brownies, and wrote a outline for a possible paper about the stages of love.&lt;br /&gt;Eh. It all made sense in my head.&lt;br /&gt;That's the story of my life...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"It made sense in my head."&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-2462843316284347114?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/2462843316284347114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=2462843316284347114' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2462843316284347114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2462843316284347114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/08/random-thoughts-on-rainy-day.html' title='Random Thoughts on a Rainy Day'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-7152290882525684710</id><published>2009-08-21T13:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T13:06:07.325-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why.</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;Disclaimer: This ain't my personal story exactly, i did get fucked up when i wrote it, but...it's just a poem.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Fuck this shit. No more weed.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is what I said I last time I took the L to the head.&lt;br /&gt;That shit was potent had my head spinning, I was seeing red.&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't concentrate on watching the Hangover so I tried writing instead.&lt;br /&gt;This is what was said when I came down. This is what was read.&lt;br /&gt;But we living in a den of equity&lt;br /&gt;And when i smoke hashish and blow trees&lt;br /&gt;I can't stop thinkin about how I used to be.&lt;br /&gt;To be honest getting high now just depresses me&lt;br /&gt;I ain't been in an actual church in five years&lt;br /&gt;Too ashamed.&lt;br /&gt;And besides god would be blinded by my jewelry.&lt;br /&gt;And I can't be without my ice&lt;br /&gt;So I chose my accessories rather than god.&lt;br /&gt;I chose my new range rover over jehovah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I chose my jimmy choo's over jesus anyday.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, it's a bit much to say, but it's the truth, for me and you.&lt;br /&gt;America's the living proof, just look at what we do.&lt;br /&gt;Slavery, the failure of prohibtion and we tryna legalize weed, prostitution been legal, I don't care what no one says.&lt;br /&gt;And just because you don't have a pimp don't mean that man isn't paying you to open to your legs.&lt;br /&gt;So call it what it is, and hey I can't knock it.&lt;br /&gt;I'm just speakin on what I see, don't even really wanna stop it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I'm just a sinner with a soapbox, I'm miles from a prophet.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, I used to wonder what this thing was that could tear a man from his family,&lt;br /&gt;But every time I get  high I feel a little closer to my father.&lt;br /&gt;Just like every time he took a sip he felt. Closer to his mother.&lt;br /&gt;They say addiction runs in the family, so I feel like it's bound to happen at some point.&lt;br /&gt;Shouldn't I just pick my drug of choice and get it over with.&lt;br /&gt;Shouldn't I just get it outta my system?&lt;br /&gt;I'm young right?&lt;br /&gt;I'll heal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;I live a crazy reckless life, and maybe just maybe when I turn 30 ill get a book deal.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shiiidd....I'm lying to myself.&lt;br /&gt;Once again, because something in my heart keep bringing me right back in.&lt;br /&gt;To the church, to the bible, to the Lord in his various forms.&lt;br /&gt;I catch myself standing outside of cathedrals staring at the doors&lt;br /&gt;Wondering what it feels like to be loved by God again.&lt;br /&gt;Knowing that your not crazy cause it's really Jesus who's calling your name&lt;br /&gt;Feel like I'm smoking to stop the pain of the drinkin and drinkin to forget the fact that God forgot my name.&lt;br /&gt;Cause I'm too far gone to save.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Or maybe I'm just so incredibly sane, it's driving me the other way.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just can't take it no more,&lt;br /&gt;If God didn't want us to partake in it, why does it exsist.&lt;br /&gt;Why the fuck are narcotics so easy to get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Why is it easier for a young black male to get wasted than to see graduation.&lt;br /&gt;Why has this world become on big fucked up situation,&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And why is God showing so much patience?&lt;br /&gt;To the evil's of the world&lt;br /&gt;And these are the questions that ill never understand, so I scroll down the pages of the Good book and roll a blunt with the same hands.&lt;br /&gt;And I get on my knees, and exhale as I ask God to protect my soul..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;And instead of hearing gods reply I hear the burning of the blunt I hold,&lt;br /&gt;And that is why, I get high.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Immediate gratification, for an unsolvable problem&lt;br /&gt;Floating on cloud twelve, approaching the eleventh heaven.&lt;br /&gt;If I use all ten of my fingers and toes it still wouldn't  be enough to describe the reasons I like to blow.&lt;br /&gt;Quite sad and depressing I know, but fuck it.&lt;br /&gt;I got something waiting on me when I go home.&lt;br /&gt;Alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Cause I don't have a man that I can go home to who love me.&lt;br /&gt;But ill be in ecstasy, atleast until I get the munchies.&lt;/blockquote&gt;And shit I maybe be alone but I ain't lonely.&lt;br /&gt;Got a bad bitch waiting by my. Bedside, she's mary jane to the homies.&lt;br /&gt;But to me, she my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;She don't judge me like God do.&lt;br /&gt;As a matter of fact, she the reason why I got so many friends.&lt;br /&gt;Only thing is, she quite possesive, can't stand for me to be away to long. She knows I get reckless, ill start reading the bible again, and stop saying Gods name in vain, even vow to never see her again.&lt;br /&gt;Till some bad shit happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Then, I'm rolling her, turning the music up and dropping out.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then we back on like we never fell off.&lt;br /&gt;There is no forgivness necessary, only inhale and take it to the brain.&lt;br /&gt;Why? You ask me still?&lt;br /&gt;I may not have all the answers but I know how to ease the pain.&lt;br /&gt;Ill smoke to my eyes close and joints start sinking. Smoke till I can see stars, and till the orioles start winning.&lt;br /&gt;Smoke till I hear bells, and smoke till my toes curl.&lt;br /&gt;Now you know why I'm smoking, to escape this hell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-7152290882525684710?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/7152290882525684710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=7152290882525684710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7152290882525684710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7152290882525684710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/08/why.html' title='Why.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-229603110651772417</id><published>2009-08-21T12:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T12:59:10.630-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Something New.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/So78a7v5RsI/AAAAAAAAAG8/ThCf6jeOwdU/s1600-h/nia+pics.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/So78a7v5RsI/AAAAAAAAAG8/ThCf6jeOwdU/s320/nia+pics.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372508945144956610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my new haircut.&lt;br /&gt;LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-229603110651772417?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/229603110651772417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=229603110651772417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/229603110651772417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/229603110651772417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/08/something-new.html' title='Something New.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/So78a7v5RsI/AAAAAAAAAG8/ThCf6jeOwdU/s72-c/nia+pics.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-3914869623868452021</id><published>2009-08-17T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T15:27:14.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello, again.</title><content type='html'>Well.&lt;br /&gt;I've come back for my online journal.&lt;br /&gt;It's been along summer and it's almost over.&lt;br /&gt;It's been fun.&lt;br /&gt;It's been sad.&lt;br /&gt;Hella concerts.&lt;br /&gt;Parties? not so much.&lt;br /&gt;Deleted a myspace.&lt;br /&gt;Gained an AOL account. Win!&lt;br /&gt;Saw E.badu, Kid Cudi, Chrissete Michelle, Ryan Leslie, Jazmine Sullivan, 88 Keys, live in concert.&lt;br /&gt;Deleted three useless numbers outta my phone.&lt;br /&gt;And cried in a couple bathrooms, a couple times.&lt;br /&gt;Got a haircut.&lt;br /&gt;But no regrets at all, suprisingly.&lt;br /&gt;And there will be more posts up ahead, suprisingly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-3914869623868452021?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/3914869623868452021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=3914869623868452021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/3914869623868452021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/3914869623868452021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/08/hello-again.html' title='Hello, again.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-2343382131278967050</id><published>2009-07-04T12:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-04T12:43:59.281-07:00</updated><title type='text'>short story opening perhaps?</title><content type='html'>I looked into his eyes. And I pushed myself off that ledge and decided to fall. I mean, why not. I'm young,I'll heal.Why not make mistakes now and learn from them. Why not open myself up and see what happens. I'm tired of being afraid.I decided to leave my baggage at the door, right beside my sachel of bitter memories. Kicking off the too big shoes of shame, peeled off those too tight jeans of inhibitions, ripped off my low self esteem shirt and took off my thinking cap.I straight walked into love, completely naked and completely responsible for the consquences.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-2343382131278967050?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/2343382131278967050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=2343382131278967050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2343382131278967050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2343382131278967050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/07/short-story-opening-perhaps.html' title='short story opening perhaps?'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-6500402697913239299</id><published>2009-06-15T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T15:32:54.732-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ha ha ha.'/><title type='text'>Of the top of the head....</title><content type='html'>Without saying too much&lt;br /&gt;I hope to say it all.&lt;br /&gt;I exposed myself to you&lt;br /&gt;hoping that I could find a connection&lt;br /&gt;But instead I found a game &lt;br /&gt;in which to fall.&lt;br /&gt;We're playing but never played.&lt;br /&gt;And it seems you had more practice.&lt;br /&gt;But never the less, I'll be the better&lt;br /&gt;one to come outta this.&lt;br /&gt;I see you in plain sight and in the darkest &lt;br /&gt;of night.&lt;br /&gt;And you think you know but you have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;But i'll wait for you to come around&lt;br /&gt;And if you never find your way to me&lt;br /&gt;I'll be okay too.&lt;br /&gt;Because I've grown as a person.&lt;br /&gt;Just from knowing you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-6500402697913239299?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/6500402697913239299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=6500402697913239299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6500402697913239299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6500402697913239299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/06/of-top-of-head.html' title='Of the top of the head....'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-31286466698261186</id><published>2009-05-29T13:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T13:55:51.925-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wha???'/><title type='text'>a poem about a poem?</title><content type='html'>So...i just wrote the dopest poem &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ever.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, the best poem i ever wrote.&lt;br /&gt;it's soo good, that I don't wanna share it.&lt;br /&gt;And it's like five pages long.&lt;br /&gt;So you know i ain't typing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if i really stop being scared all my life&lt;br /&gt;and get into that whole slam poetry scene,&lt;br /&gt;that would be my first piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So..yeah, by now it's clear this ain't a poem&lt;br /&gt;but, so what, it's my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;i can do what i want.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-31286466698261186?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/31286466698261186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=31286466698261186' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/31286466698261186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/31286466698261186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/05/poem-about-poem.html' title='a poem about a poem?'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-7917354194414688057</id><published>2009-05-21T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-21T19:27:18.765-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='individuality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='being me'/><title type='text'>Trying to be [IN]divdual.</title><content type='html'>I learned how to draw inside the lines when I turned eight.&lt;br /&gt;People don't like for you to think outside the box.&lt;br /&gt;Color your hair pink.&lt;br /&gt;Or draw chalk daisies on rocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned how to transform myself long before I needed the skill.&lt;br /&gt;Being creative was cool but being different warrants &lt;br /&gt;"eeew...." from your third grade classmates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And though no one ever said this aloud I knew what was up.&lt;br /&gt;So I adorned myself accordingly.&lt;br /&gt;No more random questions, no more smiling at strangers.&lt;br /&gt;Everything you wear must be friend approved, ya know&lt;br /&gt;"...is this cute?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things I like don't matter anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I'm officially apart of the crowd and we laugh at those who aren't.&lt;br /&gt;The ones who dare to live out loud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Put away your odd-ness,cover up your freakish-ness.&lt;br /&gt;Hide those imperfections. &lt;br /&gt;Like horses who race at Preakness, &lt;br /&gt;we are now up for inspection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;The time has come for our yearly detection. &lt;br /&gt;There is an impostor in our crew.&lt;br /&gt;She's been thinking her own thoughts and trying to walk her own walk.&lt;br /&gt;How dare she stand apart?&lt;br /&gt;How dare she look for unique-ness and still long to be apart of the mob mentality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no need for the likes of her kind here.&lt;br /&gt;Too much independence, too much curiosity&lt;br /&gt;and much too much too smart.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It felt like as soon as I was accepted I was ousted.&lt;br /&gt;Years of hard work and conformity.&lt;br /&gt;Down the drain.&lt;br /&gt;All that time I was suppressing myself to impress others.&lt;br /&gt;And it seems it's all for nothing.&lt;br /&gt;I don't fit in anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Perhaps that's my life's greatest tragedy.&lt;br /&gt;Not fitting in and not knowing it.&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before I learned how to draw inside the lines I never even used to draw.&lt;br /&gt;I used to dance.&lt;br /&gt;Dance on life's back like a Chinese masseuse.&lt;br /&gt;And then it got lonely up there.&lt;br /&gt;And I wanted to come down.&lt;br /&gt;To high to look into my friends eyes.&lt;br /&gt;And I never knew how much I wanted to before I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I conformed.&lt;br /&gt;I crawled down, and sat in my seat, picked up my purple crayon and traced the elephant.&lt;br /&gt;I used slow and determined strokes that went left and right.&lt;br /&gt;They describe my phlight of following the trends and trying to be IN.&lt;br /&gt;Up and down like the styles.&lt;br /&gt;Good and bad like my relationships with friends.&lt;br /&gt;Even like my skin tone.&lt;br /&gt;And eventually complete, like I hoped to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been drawing since I was eight and nothing yet.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe this isn't the medium for me. &lt;br /&gt;Maybe i'll take up flight .&lt;br /&gt;Fly back into oblivion and dance on the clouds till heaven rains down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-7917354194414688057?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/7917354194414688057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=7917354194414688057' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7917354194414688057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/7917354194414688057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/05/trying-to-be-indivdual.html' title='Trying to be [IN]divdual.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-400249591041946059</id><published>2009-05-20T19:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T21:14:58.984-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fatherless much?'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='questions'/><title type='text'>graduating calls for a look at oneself</title><content type='html'>hmmm.....so I've been thinking about myself and the person i wanna become and all that good stuff lately, and i've also been reading up on random things like&lt;br /&gt;1. what exactly does "purp" consist of? i know it's weed, but like what exactly &lt;strong&gt;is&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;weed?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. random ass songs on youtube, and anything with kid cudi's face on it. i just love him, is all.&lt;br /&gt;3. no daddy syndrome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last is some what of a mystery in my life like the boogie man, tooth fairy, cooties. Supposedly, it's something that young girls, well no, all girls who eventually turn into woman, who had a poor or non-existent relationship with their fathers. Hints- "no-daddy" syndrome.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, i had to ask myself, do i suffer from that? I think mine is a special case. My father passed away when i was like eight. But he was here for the most part when he was alive. But he also stole our cd player. But he used to clean and cook. He was a character, but i loved him. And i know he loved me. But is that enough? &lt;br /&gt;Will i grow up to be one of those crazy insecure chicks whose only goal is to get married?&lt;br /&gt;Will i be a hardened bitch, who sleeps will men to avoid emotional intimacy?&lt;br /&gt;Will i ever post something that's actually worth commenting on?&lt;br /&gt;Will i ever stop caring so much?&lt;br /&gt;i have no idea, but hopefully i'll get one soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-400249591041946059?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/400249591041946059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=400249591041946059' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/400249591041946059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/400249591041946059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/05/graduating-calls-for-look-at-oneself.html' title='graduating calls for a look at oneself'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-6109139679983141918</id><published>2009-05-09T09:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-09T09:36:10.637-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vsb'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='da rules'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='creed for life'/><title type='text'>My RULES.</title><content type='html'>-&lt;strong&gt;Dream Big. Work Harder.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-real friends deserve to be treated as such&lt;br /&gt;-if i don’t hustle i don’t eat&lt;br /&gt;-only ask mom and granny for large sums of money…everybody else will make you feel bad about it.&lt;br /&gt;-remember that EVERY SONG IS YOUR SONG and act accordingly&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;always talk during the movie/play/ballet/traffic jam/lecture…fuck the old white people behind you. fuck.them.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-think about what you say&lt;br /&gt;-except if it’s funny. if it’s funny, SHOUT THAT SHIT.&lt;br /&gt;-always buy boy shorts&lt;br /&gt;-mother knows best&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;before any big event in life, prom/wedding/graduation watch the Beyonce experience.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;laugh instead of cry&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-cry instead of argue&lt;br /&gt;-argue instead of fight&lt;br /&gt;-send funny random texts to your new love at 11:06 every Thursday, sets the tone for the relationship.&lt;br /&gt;-when depressed play Kirk franklin, beyonce, kanye and yo gotti, in that order.&lt;br /&gt;-always be a diva&lt;br /&gt;-but fuck wearing make-up everyday, really don't need that shit.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;always laugh when the hilarity ensues.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-boys that ONLY text you, get the friends status.&lt;br /&gt;-go hard or go home.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;me first. always.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-sing and laugh loud as you can possibly can all the time.&lt;br /&gt;-depend on no one else for your happiness.&lt;br /&gt;-if it don't make you happy. fuck it.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;laugh at the haters, and gloat about your success at the Oscars.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-READ.READ.READ.PRAY.READ.&lt;br /&gt;-only eat good food.&lt;br /&gt;-breathe.&lt;br /&gt;-&lt;strong&gt;God first. Family second. everything else.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-6109139679983141918?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/6109139679983141918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=6109139679983141918' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6109139679983141918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6109139679983141918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-rules.html' title='My RULES.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-1564551776377661041</id><published>2009-05-05T20:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T20:12:28.970-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='me time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alone but never lonely'/><title type='text'>Scribbled during a trig test</title><content type='html'>When the crowd fades away and i'm left all alone&lt;br /&gt;I retreat into myself, &lt;br /&gt;back into the bottom of my heart&lt;br /&gt;back into the back of my head&lt;br /&gt;I take me all in and relish the day&lt;br /&gt;The better parts make me smile&lt;br /&gt;the low moments i throw away.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it's good to have a moment&lt;br /&gt;to yourself to regain your sanity&lt;br /&gt;When all the noise of the day&lt;br /&gt;goes back to where it came from&lt;br /&gt;and you can just&lt;br /&gt;be yourself with yourself by yourself,&lt;br /&gt;nothing wrong at all&lt;br /&gt;No other voices to hear&lt;br /&gt;No opinions to count&lt;br /&gt;no cares at all.&lt;br /&gt;i breathe myself in&lt;br /&gt;and release us back out&lt;br /&gt;Winding down to take care of me.&lt;br /&gt;Forging a bond that only we know about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-1564551776377661041?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/1564551776377661041/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=1564551776377661041' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1564551776377661041'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1564551776377661041'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/05/scribbled-during-trig-test.html' title='Scribbled during a trig test'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-6115902884300382217</id><published>2009-04-29T17:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T17:03:42.878-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='real life'/><title type='text'>so true.</title><content type='html'>me- yo, you a true fiend. you stay high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the fiend- wtf. duh!! why wouldn't i? reality sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SO TRUE. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-6115902884300382217?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/6115902884300382217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=6115902884300382217' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6115902884300382217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6115902884300382217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/04/so-true.html' title='so true.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-3120662772015240996</id><published>2009-04-22T13:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T13:38:08.159-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hopes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='success'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"all i do is eat, shit and think about success."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Big Sean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. These words sum my life up to perfection right now. The grind right now consists of finding the rest of my money for Drexel. And that's a lotta zero's. (30,000, and that's the estimate). I'm not stressed, i'm blessed to even be accepted and consquently having to find the money. So i'm taking it all in stride. And i'll find the money and i'm &lt;strong&gt;bringing G.O.O.D T.V to a flat screen near you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;hmm....&lt;br /&gt;that has a ring. Wonder if Kanye would sue me if i made that my production company name.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-3120662772015240996?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/3120662772015240996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=3120662772015240996' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/3120662772015240996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/3120662772015240996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/04/all-i-do-is-eat-shit-and-think-about.html' title=''/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-2336001452253085400</id><published>2009-04-14T17:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T17:46:51.100-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='punch drunk love'/><title type='text'>Rehab and Air Yeezys...lol. Named it just for Deda.</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;I'd much rather be with you right now.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sitting with friends laughing and partying&lt;br /&gt;Drinks go round&lt;br /&gt;Weed goes down&lt;br /&gt;And with every sip and inhale &lt;br /&gt;i realize i am about to make a big&lt;br /&gt;mistake.&lt;br /&gt;I want- I want- to call you.&lt;br /&gt;Yup. I'm goin drunk dial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4 4 3 no 4 1 0 5- shit.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Oh yeah...i never deleted your number anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Time slows down as i push the call button&lt;br /&gt;My friends grab at my phone tryna stop me&lt;br /&gt;but to no avail.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The phone rings. And Rings. and rings.&lt;br /&gt;you don't answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"This is me, leave a message"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bit my lip in a drunken stupor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I need to leave the room&lt;br /&gt;Cause i'm still not drunk enough to embarrass&lt;br /&gt;myself in front of my friends.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But. &lt;em&gt;"I want to vomit my heart through the phone onto your doorstep."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LISTEN TO ME.&lt;br /&gt;iluhyou...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;i fucking love you!&lt;br /&gt;i loved you when you where dead broke&lt;br /&gt;loved you when you got money.&lt;br /&gt;Loved you before your pradas and air yeezys&lt;br /&gt;And your Rolex's and Lexus.&lt;br /&gt;Loved you before you started wearing extra-smedium shirts&lt;br /&gt;LOVED YOU SINCE YOU WERE WEARING ROCA-WEAR.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so how dare you leave me.&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, i know it's been almost a year&lt;br /&gt;BUT you took everything from me&lt;br /&gt;So how do you think i feel?&lt;br /&gt;After everything we been through&lt;br /&gt;all the nasty stuff i wouldn't do&lt;br /&gt;wit nobody but you.&lt;br /&gt;And you just up and leave me like this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So what i had a problem!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Don't we all?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, i like my Jack, Goose and 8 Ball.&lt;br /&gt;So what it was hard to see straight at times&lt;br /&gt;And yeah i do remember finding in the strangest&lt;br /&gt;places margarita lemons and limes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;But that never took away from how i treated you!&lt;br /&gt;Right?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean there was that crazy big fight where&lt;br /&gt;i cut up your shirts and tried to stab your dog.&lt;br /&gt;But see, you were being a flirt&lt;br /&gt;and your homeboy Jamal&lt;br /&gt;he deserved it, sorry...&lt;br /&gt;But aside from that i loved you.&lt;br /&gt;Remember that time when i was baking Jamal &lt;br /&gt;get well cookies in the kitchen&lt;br /&gt;and you came in and told me how much you loved and cared&lt;br /&gt;for me and-&lt;strong&gt;oh shit- that was an intervention!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But see, it's the things like that &lt;br /&gt;that make me love you,&lt;br /&gt;your the only one who ever cared. &lt;br /&gt;And you know that don't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I been knocking Buds back with my mom since i was 12, and i can't control it.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Well anyway.&lt;br /&gt;I called to tell you i'm checking into rehab&lt;br /&gt;I think your the only one who would appreciate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hello? Hello?&lt;/strong&gt; oh, i thought you picked up.&lt;br /&gt;Thought you would be glad to know &lt;br /&gt;my days as a drunken slut &lt;br /&gt;are over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Oh well fuck it.&lt;br /&gt;The party ends tonight,&lt;br /&gt;so the bottle i'll be sucking.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And with every shot i take&lt;br /&gt;and every tequila worm i down,&lt;br /&gt;i'll always think of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;My loving ex-boyfriend &lt;br /&gt;who taught me to swim out of the bottle&lt;br /&gt;instead of drown.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-2336001452253085400?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/2336001452253085400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=2336001452253085400' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2336001452253085400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/2336001452253085400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/04/rehab-and-air-yeezyslol-named-it-just.html' title='Rehab and Air Yeezys...lol. Named it just for Deda.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-3528170102418417965</id><published>2009-04-11T21:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-11T21:33:55.089-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>Now that's a down ass chick</title><content type='html'>Give her your burden.&lt;br /&gt;Your love, your joy and hate.&lt;br /&gt;Give her your burden.&lt;br /&gt;Your pain no matter how great.&lt;br /&gt;She'll recieve you into &lt;br /&gt;her walls, as she herself falls&lt;br /&gt;Down ass chicks wear your feelings &lt;br /&gt;like ten gold toe rings&lt;br /&gt;We'll be as null and void as you are about things&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we'll stare at those rings &lt;br /&gt;as if our eyes were laser beams&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes we'll pull and tug&lt;br /&gt;tired of your tough love&lt;br /&gt;And sometimes, just sometimes&lt;br /&gt;we'll get real still.&lt;br /&gt;Times like those we'll do your will&lt;br /&gt;But what you gotta know about us&lt;br /&gt;is that it's not a game at all.&lt;br /&gt;And if it's not meant to be&lt;br /&gt;when you push, we'll fall.&lt;br /&gt;But when you fall-&lt;br /&gt;when a down ass chick's man falls&lt;br /&gt;We'd just as well&lt;br /&gt;pull ourselves under&lt;br /&gt;tryna pull you up over.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-3528170102418417965?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/3528170102418417965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=3528170102418417965' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/3528170102418417965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/3528170102418417965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/04/now-thats-down-ass-chick.html' title='Now that&apos;s a down ass chick'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-6556909536254883774</id><published>2009-04-09T10:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T15:50:26.518-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i&apos;m blessed anyway'/><title type='text'>studnet loans wtf.</title><content type='html'>so, &lt;br /&gt;since i've decided to go to drexel, i've recently looked up their cost and fees etc.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say i was dumbfounded.&lt;br /&gt;drexel- total cost for freshman year- &lt;strong&gt;51,000&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WTF.&lt;br /&gt;FML.&lt;br /&gt;OMG.&lt;br /&gt;so i get my fin aid package and they say they goin give me 16,500. &lt;br /&gt;WTF.&lt;br /&gt;so....i don't know anymore. i really want to got to drexel&lt;br /&gt;but HU is cheaper.&lt;br /&gt;and i just might have to go there.&lt;br /&gt;I might have to re-name this blog.&lt;br /&gt;One broke ass co-ed.&lt;br /&gt;GAH.....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-6556909536254883774?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/6556909536254883774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=6556909536254883774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6556909536254883774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6556909536254883774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/04/studnet-loans-wtf.html' title='studnet loans wtf.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-6936011082167255667</id><published>2009-04-08T20:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T21:02:00.243-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='i need a fake id'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fml'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clubs'/><title type='text'>my fmylife entry...15 dollars for 2 hours</title><content type='html'>Today i went to this party i was sooo pressed to get into. it was at club one to which i had never been, plus i hadn't partied all spring break. Thought it was ten and i was paying for my sis but it was 15 plus i ended up paying 30 dollars. The party started at 8 we got there at 9. They shut it down at 11. FML&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-6936011082167255667?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/6936011082167255667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=6936011082167255667' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6936011082167255667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6936011082167255667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-fmylife-entry15-dollars-for-2-hours.html' title='my fmylife entry...15 dollars for 2 hours'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-1092177864764024131</id><published>2009-04-07T16:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T16:50:47.668-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='finally'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='college'/><title type='text'>I Decided...you are the school for me.</title><content type='html'>OKay...&lt;br /&gt;so it's offical. i will be attending Drexel University in the fall, around september 18. yay me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s136.photobucket.com/albums/q187/nianicole/?action=view&amp;current=drexel.gif" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i136.photobucket.com/albums/q187/nianicole/drexel.gif" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Television major. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and please believe &lt;br /&gt;i'm bringing Girlfriends back&lt;br /&gt;i'm adding RELAVENT black characters to Gossip Girl&lt;br /&gt;and putting a positive show about baltimore on HBO.&lt;br /&gt;lol. seriously.&lt;br /&gt;dreamin big like my girl jazzy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="460" height="390"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/pl/bJjkuOOpLX/pv=2/"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/pl/bJjkuOOpLX/pv=2/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="460" height="390" allowFullScreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/people/ajpOoJd/playlist/k6eCuerN/cool-videos-video-playlist/"&gt;cool videos&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-1092177864764024131?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/1092177864764024131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=1092177864764024131' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1092177864764024131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1092177864764024131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-decidedyou-are-school-for-me.html' title='I Decided...you are the school for me.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-961496131668332846</id><published>2009-04-02T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T19:48:05.439-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drexel university'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='howard university'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='decisions'/><title type='text'>What NOW!!??</title><content type='html'>So i've been accepted into ( drumroll please)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stevenson University&lt;br /&gt;Fairliegh Dickinson University&lt;br /&gt;Uarts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Howard University&lt;br /&gt;Drexel University&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chestnut Hill College&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the problem lies within HU and DRexel&lt;br /&gt;i just don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HU- the mecca, acroos the street form OBzzy, much fun, wonderful culture, history, a great rep, fun, fun did i mention fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drexel- private, technology based, has frickin Television major! Who does that? I does that, if i enroll, located in Philly, givin up the $$$&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my problems lies in the lack of diviersity in both schools.&lt;br /&gt;Do i want to be the majority or minority.&lt;br /&gt;What to do. &lt;br /&gt;Help please, give honest opinons, i want to know!!&lt;br /&gt;Share horror stories for both, if you have any!!&lt;br /&gt;Thanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-961496131668332846?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/961496131668332846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=961496131668332846' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/961496131668332846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/961496131668332846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-now.html' title='What NOW!!??'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-6909884339384613113</id><published>2009-03-14T10:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T16:12:41.516-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hood fab'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love story'/><title type='text'>what i do when i'm supposed to do homework.</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;(So this is something i been wrote and never posted, it's in the making, and going through changes...let me know what you think.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Once Upon a Time....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time in a hood near you lived little Precious Love Jones. Precious was mischievous and fly, cute and sassy, and her mouth got her into a lot of trouble. One night, Precious's mommy, Queen B beat Precious like she stole something.&lt;br /&gt;And now Precious sported three welts on her body. Her mother was teaching Precious a lesson, she would learn to never trust men, even if it killed her. &lt;br /&gt;At least that's what her mother thought she was doing when she was beating her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crack! One D&amp;G belt against the thighs. This was for Precious's grandfather the Orin gal King, &lt;br /&gt;who was killed by European invaders long ago, a now wasn't able to change a damn thing. &lt;br /&gt;Crack! One across her back. That was Precious's father, a king who ran away when his country was in famine, because he didn't understand Mother Earth and her temperament. Cause his own father was never there to teach him how to teach him how to be a real man and work his own land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And know the king is in far far away land spreading seed on what was once fertile ground. Dropping it in the soil and refusing to nurture it. Claiming the land .for a one night stand. Letting the world's breath blow over his scattered seeds. Wondering why it will be a weak harvest this season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last welt was for Precious's future&lt;br /&gt;What ever Prince who decides to try and woo her&lt;br /&gt;Who ever is still alive after the war of puberty&lt;br /&gt;Whoever isn't captured before he can reach her gates&lt;br /&gt;Whoever can swim across the moat of bullshit that the world made&lt;br /&gt;That young Prince will have to carry Precious's Louie V baggage&lt;br /&gt;One scar across her thighs that make it hard to sit&lt;br /&gt;but kills her to stand and walk away, thus she'll continue to crawl.&lt;br /&gt;Second scar on her back that gives her a slight hunch.&lt;br /&gt;Curving her shoulders to the ground and consequently her neck&lt;br /&gt;never letting her head rise to high&lt;br /&gt;that scar keeps her in check.&lt;br /&gt;And the last scar, well that's for you my young Prince&lt;br /&gt;Right across her heart, the place her mother last hit. It's to make her&lt;br /&gt;stronger. &lt;br /&gt;See it's keloided over now through the years of&lt;br /&gt;bitches, money, hoes, cars, clothes&lt;br /&gt;I hate you and love you at the very same time&lt;br /&gt;Mac Daddy bullshit, line after line&lt;br /&gt;Seeing what you can never be,&lt;br /&gt;knowing what you are&lt;br /&gt;being told what's "real"&lt;br /&gt;and how love is just too damn hard&lt;br /&gt;Hip-hop lyrics, and Playboy Magazines&lt;br /&gt;Being virtually molested by the media from age 6 to 18&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"See young Prince what you just got yourself into when you asked to be my man&lt;br /&gt;is a whole bunch of bullshit, that you'll probably never understand&lt;br /&gt;I know i didn't ask to be born into the throne, just like you didn't ask&lt;br /&gt;for my life story&lt;br /&gt;But what I'm tryna tell you is.&lt;br /&gt;Bring it on.&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the fuck you got.&lt;br /&gt;Cause see i know love is a fairytale&lt;br /&gt;that's been altered through the course of time&lt;br /&gt;And i can smell bullshit like lemons and limes&lt;br /&gt;I can't offer you love&lt;br /&gt;I don't know nothing about that&lt;br /&gt;But I can give you my loyalty&lt;br /&gt;as long as it's me you protect.&lt;br /&gt;I'll make sure you never go to bed alone&lt;br /&gt;Stay full and pleased&lt;br /&gt;Wear pink Vicky thongs and get on my knees&lt;br /&gt;Cause the night I became a woman&lt;br /&gt;I got branded&lt;br /&gt;And these three welts stand for more than that, &lt;br /&gt;my past, future and present.&lt;br /&gt;Those welts which came out of my &lt;br /&gt;mothers love, represent my life and loyalty;&lt;br /&gt;The symbol of my ghetto royalty.&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-6909884339384613113?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/6909884339384613113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=6909884339384613113' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6909884339384613113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/6909884339384613113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-i-do-when-im-supposed-to-do.html' title='what i do when i&apos;m supposed to do homework.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-1947802022107939952</id><published>2009-03-13T22:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T22:16:26.197-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='it makes perfect sense'/><title type='text'>dope-nessss!!!</title><content type='html'>People who are weird, and know they’re weird, have two choices—they can either revel in self-consciousness, struggling to fit into a norm that was never carved for them, or embrace, bask, testify in the name of their quirkiness.&lt;br /&gt;-adriel luis of iLL-Literacy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"get wit it....."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-1947802022107939952?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/1947802022107939952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=1947802022107939952' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1947802022107939952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1947802022107939952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/03/dope-nessss.html' title='dope-nessss!!!'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-472753339950753606</id><published>2009-03-01T22:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T22:49:07.107-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><title type='text'>March 2nd. around 1am-ish</title><content type='html'>Soo...&lt;br /&gt;I decided I'm going to write. Fuck everything else. The only thing I've ever been partially constant with is writing. I feel like that would truly make me happy. That's also something i could share. I only like to sing for the lord and myself, and acting is....idk. Just a basic skill i have. I wanna write about my experiences but how do i get readers&gt; Do i even want people to read? How far am i willing to go? What about poetry? Spoken word?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What next for me?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If i get into VCU or Drexel's cinema program then it's on. That's a promise to myself that'll i'll be the next Toni Morrison, Spike Lee and Suzanne De Passe, all in one. I feel like my heart is too big and i am too irregular to just&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;settle.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not striving for fame.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not striving for money, (but it's up there in my list of priorities)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I just wanna be happy.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is just a reminder to myself;&lt;br /&gt;i'm officially taking up the pen as my sword.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOodNiTe.&lt;br /&gt;P.S. -this was inspired by hip-hop. surprisingly.&lt;br /&gt;P.S.S- and the surge of energy i get after twelve.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-472753339950753606?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/472753339950753606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=472753339950753606' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/472753339950753606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/472753339950753606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/03/march-2nd-around-1am-ish.html' title='March 2nd. around 1am-ish'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-4420580797951079936</id><published>2009-02-25T19:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T16:49:02.956-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='frustration'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='anger'/><title type='text'>WTF.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/mess" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="mess Pictures, Images and Photos" src="http://i40.photobucket.com/albums/e217/felixdragonhart/art.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So....&lt;br /&gt;Today i had a momentary absent of sanity.&lt;br /&gt;Let's just say i went off.&lt;br /&gt;It all started cause i was supposed to take my driving license test.&lt;br /&gt;Told everybody&lt;br /&gt;Made a big "hoopla"&lt;br /&gt;And didn't get the damn thing.&lt;br /&gt;AND I DIDN'T EVEN FAIL.&lt;br /&gt;my grandmother's car wasn't registered.&lt;br /&gt;So now i have to pay fifty and take my test whenever i get the chance.&lt;br /&gt;Now that doesn't sound too bad.&lt;br /&gt;But this is what i did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/baby%20crying" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img alt="crying baby Pictures, Images and Photos" src="http://i231.photobucket.com/albums/ee157/luvs33/MISC/crying_baby.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I literally brokedown. It was soo embarrasing.&lt;br /&gt;But this was something, i had desired dreamed about, and finally found the time to do.&lt;br /&gt;And on top of that fifty fucking dollars for something i should have been had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anywyay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned that i shouldn't let my schedule fuck wit my brain like that again.&lt;br /&gt;I started bringin other stuff in, the mess. Talking about how i'm failing physics&lt;br /&gt;and i hate school. How i need to clean my room. And i kinda just wanna leave my body for a minute. I reminded me of United States of Tara. I would have gladly turned into a diffrent person at that moment. But the worse part is, it wasn't even that serious! I know i was tripping, but i could not control myself. I just equated so much to having my license....&lt;br /&gt;And now, i'm just in a pissy mood. And i don't know for how long. All day people have been telling me how evil i look, and now i know what they're talking about. This is how i been feeling since sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/images/evil" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i131.photobucket.com/albums/p318/temptmetowake/evilcatqueen.jpg" border="0" alt="evil cat Pictures, Images and Photos"/&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When that bitch D. Duncan set me up!lol. but that's a story in it's self.&lt;br /&gt;So, nice nia, is taking a leave of absence till Monday. I think i'll just embrace it and be a bitch till then. it's just too strong to fight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-4420580797951079936?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/4420580797951079936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=4420580797951079936' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/4420580797951079936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/4420580797951079936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/02/wtf.html' title='WTF.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i231.photobucket.com/albums/ee157/luvs33/MISC/th_crying_baby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-8768650669264463259</id><published>2009-02-23T21:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T21:41:29.095-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='happy hunting'/><title type='text'>Disturbia</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/SaOIOTVMl6I/AAAAAAAAACg/fOYWW7FuWVc/s1600-h/P8080350.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/SaOIOTVMl6I/AAAAAAAAACg/fOYWW7FuWVc/s320/P8080350.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306234565261301666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't get Rihanna's Disturbia song out my head.&lt;br /&gt;It's really fucking with me.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, i just felt the need to express my excitement at really and truly finding a place to express myself openly.&lt;br /&gt;And while comments would be nice (wink wink)&lt;br /&gt;I write this for me. &lt;br /&gt;My friends who see me everyday have no idea i have a blog.&lt;br /&gt;And i like it like that. &lt;br /&gt;They don't need to know EVERYTHIN about me, Right?&lt;br /&gt;That's kinda weird and unhealthy.&lt;br /&gt;Goodnite;*&lt;br /&gt;Random Pic from DR trip.&lt;br /&gt;Great fucking times.Soothes my Soul. Gotta Go Back&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-8768650669264463259?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/8768650669264463259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=8768650669264463259' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/8768650669264463259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/8768650669264463259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/02/disturbia.html' title='Disturbia'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/SaOIOTVMl6I/AAAAAAAAACg/fOYWW7FuWVc/s72-c/P8080350.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-693429459479758169</id><published>2009-02-23T11:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T19:51:27.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'>omg. my new artist to watch.</title><content type='html'>Not the performance i saw, but close enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_TLCa_K3Zpo&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed allowscriptaccess="always" width="425" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_TLCa_K3Zpo&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;So.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Saw Solange and Estelle last night at Rams Head Live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Which by the way is a nice place. Very underrated&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Any way. Solange rocked my socks off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I hate to use this word but she was soo fuckin &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&gt;"cool"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;She looked good, can't really dance, is smart, and has no ass at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Qualities i can see in my self&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;But never the less, her performance was thee truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Now i don't want to dick ride, but she is def coming into her own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I can digg it. She gives weird, intelligent, but beautiful girls like myself&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;INSPIRATION&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;mean just because you're smart doesn't mean your not glamourous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Don't believe the hype, every nerd is not introverted and arkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Some of us are graceful and plain ole' sexy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Basically, she inspired me to keep traveling on my path, and not to get get caught up in what others think of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;And when she mixed "Electric Feel" in her set, lets just say..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;"&gt;I LIVE!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-693429459479758169?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/693429459479758169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=693429459479758169' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/693429459479758169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/693429459479758169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/02/omg-my-new-artist-to-watch.html' title='omg. my new artist to watch.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-896101886767253586</id><published>2009-02-18T18:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T19:49:32.805-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my new obsession (besides kyle..chill)lmao.</title><content type='html'>okay....so cruisin on youtube on a bored monday night i came across, well lets just say some intresting behavior.&lt;br /&gt;"Vogue battles at the Ball"&lt;br /&gt;OMG. i found my self jammin, like there's no tommorow.&lt;br /&gt;I'm soo on it.&lt;br /&gt;And i was makin myself look like a fool tryna walk and drop.&lt;br /&gt;all i hear when i go to sleep now is&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes to the yes yes....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MpITgtKrCpA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MpITgtKrCpA&amp;hl=en&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-896101886767253586?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/896101886767253586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=896101886767253586' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/896101886767253586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/896101886767253586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-new-obsession-besides-kylechilllmao.html' title='my new obsession (besides kyle..chill)lmao.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7454737353925052994.post-1805509728273526984</id><published>2009-02-09T20:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T19:58:41.739-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='insomnia.'/><title type='text'>ohhwee.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;So it's like 11:55 in the almost AM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Can't sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Thinkin' bout, well i'll never tell you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;And surely, i'll regret this in the morning.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;But sometimes you gotta do what feels good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Hittin the keys at 11:58&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;by the light of the laptop is &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;closer than close&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;to a mental orgasm right now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;And god damn it feels good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Yup, I'm havin a erotic write off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;I was a virgin to the word before this moment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;But i can no longer fight my urges.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Can't squeeze my legs tight enough at night &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Can't bite my pillow hard enough.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Palms gettin wet thinkin about it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Fingers gettin stiff with metaphors.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Ready to get off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;write now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;in whichever way i can.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Tonite i'm tryna a new postion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Lying on my stomach as i type&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Feeling like a diffrent type of girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;As this unfurls.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Damn. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Every key stroke&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;feels so intense. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;A s p a c e bar curls my toes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Enter key.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Enter key.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Enter key. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Feels so good fcuk a spell check.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;i can't use protection with this one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;It feels like a small heart attack.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;In the small of my back&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;As the curve of my wrist &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;turns into the palm of my hand&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;the length of my fingers &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;as i &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;tap,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;tap,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;tap&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;my own keys&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;in my own bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;On a sleepless night.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;Shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;And my s p a c e bar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;retracts as my heart slows down.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;in need&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;of weed now.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;goodnight.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s136.photobucket.com/albums/q187/nianicole/2009/?action=view&amp;current=P1280132.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i136.photobucket.com/albums/q187/nianicole/2009/P1280132.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7454737353925052994-1805509728273526984?l=nianicole.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/feeds/1805509728273526984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7454737353925052994&amp;postID=1805509728273526984' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1805509728273526984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7454737353925052994/posts/default/1805509728273526984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nianicole.blogspot.com/2009/02/ohhwee.html' title='ohhwee.'/><author><name>nianicole</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12705040007468832170</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_molz59JERbM/TIbXl4txvyI/AAAAAAAAAME/9g87Km7khLM/S220/163022.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i136.photobucket.com/albums/q187/nianicole/2009/th_P1280132.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
