<?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-3965836334651345175</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:42:32.262-07:00</updated><category term='Poetry'/><category term='Aids Awareness'/><category term='Original Poetry'/><category term='YouTube Hate'/><title type='text'>Nana Castro</title><subtitle type='html'>There's so much more than words can describe.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>37</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-7325128869708252632</id><published>2008-10-06T01:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-06T01:49:58.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Truth is, The Truth Hurts.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;This probably won't make sense, so bare with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;I'm angry, not at him but because I let my guard down knowing what I was getting into. I knew what he was since day 1.  I knew he was lying about it all, but I decided to keep going because I thought maybe he wasn't lying about how he felt about me. Maybe I could change him, regardless of the bullshit he did. Maybe he was one of those guys, that every girl hopes for, but never meets. But see, the things I hated about him were the things that made me want to be with him. I was chasing him hoping for a change, not realizing I was running in circles. I wanted change, but I didn't want to change myself. I held on grudges from the past and used the same failed techniques for my future. Playing Miss Inspector Gadget, knowing I'd find the worst. But see, I thought finding out the truth about everything would save me heartache.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt;no one will give you the truth all the time. If they did, the time youd be spending trying to figure out the truth with someone else youd be spending trying to figure out if they really love you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:78%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;- Raven&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;I'm hurt. I have that feeling in my chest: you know, the kind that feels like every breath hurts more than the last and if you stop breathing it feels like it's going to explode. I didn't think it was possible for that to happen again. I know I'll get over it, I've been down this road before I just didn't think I'd be back here. I've learned from this, as I do with every experience. I didn't think I could ever love someone again, and I did. I didn't want to let go the way it did, but I'm hurting and maybe I need time to work on me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;shes heard so many lies&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;; she don't know whats true or not."-Lil' Wayne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="548"  style=";color:transparent;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(15, 5, 149);font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;Tinyy Smalls&lt;/b&gt;&lt;aim:timestamp style="display: inline; font-size: 11px;"&gt; (11:04:39 PM)&lt;/aim:timestamp&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:78%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt;hes lying about things he doesnt want to hurt you..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="550"  style=";color:transparent;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(15, 5, 149);font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;Tinyy Smalls&lt;/b&gt;&lt;aim:timestamp style="display: inline; font-size: 11px;"&gt; (11:05:00 PM)&lt;/aim:timestamp&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt;we dont need to know everything nana.. we've had this discussion before.. i told you KNOWING everything is NOT what you want.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="552"  style=";color:transparent;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(15, 5, 149);font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;Tinyy Smalls&lt;/b&gt;&lt;aim:timestamp style="display: inline; font-size: 11px;"&gt; (11:05:27 PM)&lt;/aim:timestamp&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:78%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt;NO ONE IS PERFECT.. when you look for dirt your going to find it..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="554"  style=";color:transparent;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(15, 5, 149);font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;Tinyy Smalls&lt;/b&gt;&lt;aim:timestamp style="display: inline; font-size: 11px;"&gt; (11:05:48 PM)&lt;/aim:timestamp&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt;concentrate on whats infront of your face not whats behind it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(15, 5, 149);font-family:Arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;Tinyy Smalls&lt;/b&gt;&lt;aim:timestamp style="display: inline; font-size: 11px;"&gt; (11:06:35 PM)&lt;/aim:timestamp&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:78%;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt;its not the future.. its whats infront of your face.. whats going on presently&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;This feels like a bad dream. I want to wake up already.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-7325128869708252632?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7325128869708252632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=7325128869708252632' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/7325128869708252632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/7325128869708252632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/10/truth-is-truth-hurts.html' title='The Truth is, The Truth Hurts.'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-7795927277948921851</id><published>2008-09-25T14:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-25T14:17:45.708-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Skin Bleaching</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" width="300" height="300"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://current.com/e/89328481/en_US"&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://current.com/e/89328481/en_US" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="300" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Pretty disturbing, I first heard about this on the Tyra Show. Now it's everywhere, people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt; need to be happy with the skin they were born in. White, Black, Brown, Yellow etc. etc.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:lucida grande;" &gt;Diversity is what makes us beautiful, why is a whiter tone of skin more beautiful? The media needs to start portraying all the beauty in the world. Real women, not silicon, weaves and tons of makeup. That world is tainted. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-7795927277948921851?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7795927277948921851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=7795927277948921851' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/7795927277948921851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/7795927277948921851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/skin-bleaching.html' title='Skin Bleaching'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-4257711655443459667</id><published>2008-09-23T22:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T22:48:28.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There's nothing like...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-family: lucida grande;"&gt;Loving yourself, before anyone else. I'm not saying there isn't room to love others but, I can't explain the satisfaction knowing that I'm comfortable in my own skin. It isn't the easiest thing in the world at times and sometimes I feel I am my worst enemy, the biggest critic, Satan in the fucking flesh. But then there are times when I realize what I've been through and what I've sacrificed in order to become the person I am today and it makes me smile. I may not have everything in the world but I love myself and that's more than enough. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-4257711655443459667?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4257711655443459667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=4257711655443459667' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/4257711655443459667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/4257711655443459667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/theres-nothing-like.html' title='There&apos;s nothing like...'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-3441540182839703563</id><published>2008-09-15T17:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T23:16:18.945-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Scenic Shots</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://s244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Scenetic-1-023.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/Scenetic-1-023.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Blog1.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/Blog1.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Blog10.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/Blog10.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Blog12.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/Blog12.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Blog11.jpg" 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src="http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/Blog15.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Blog18.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/Blog18.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Blog21.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/Blog21.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Blog22.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/Blog22.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Blog24.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/Blog24.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Blog4.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/Blog4.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://s244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/?action=view&amp;amp;current=Blog5.jpg" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i244.photobucket.com/albums/gg5/nanacastrophotobucket/Blog5.jpg" alt="Photobucket" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-3441540182839703563?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3441540182839703563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=3441540182839703563' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/3441540182839703563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/3441540182839703563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/scenic-shots.html' title='Scenic Shots'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-8576693177454711224</id><published>2008-09-09T23:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T23:57:47.574-07:00</updated><title type='text'>95.1 HYPE RADIO</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;So, I landed myself an internship with 95.1 Hype Radio an underground radio station.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt; I'll be the gossip girl, make sure you check me out this Thursday @9pm at www.hyperadiofm.com&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-8576693177454711224?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8576693177454711224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=8576693177454711224' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/8576693177454711224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/8576693177454711224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/951-hype-radio.html' title='95.1 HYPE RADIO'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-5484811266329182440</id><published>2008-09-07T12:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T12:18:57.467-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What We Don't See, Won't Hurt Us</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Why do we feel the need to see the things that we know will hurt us?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt; I've been thinking about that lately, I'm good at the whole C.I.A inspector gadget type bullshit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt; but honestly it's gets tiring.  Your mind runs a mile a minute, you loose sleep, you loose trust and all for the things that make you cringe. I'm starting to forget why I got into a relationship in the first place. I was never a relationship kind of person. If I wanted to put someones life under a microscope it should've been mine. I forgot that the things I hated about him were the things that made me want to be with him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate wondering but What We Don't See, Won't Hurt Us right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-5484811266329182440?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5484811266329182440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=5484811266329182440' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/5484811266329182440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/5484811266329182440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/what-we-dont-see-wont-hurt-us.html' title='What We Don&apos;t See, Won&apos;t Hurt Us'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-8946207495925451774</id><published>2008-09-07T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-07T12:07:31.992-07:00</updated><title type='text'>In Need of A Photographer</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;To Build my portfolio as well as yours.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;If interested, Let me know by commenting me with contact information.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-8946207495925451774?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8946207495925451774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=8946207495925451774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/8946207495925451774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/8946207495925451774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/in-need-of-photographer.html' title='In Need of A Photographer'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-1424560022845083069</id><published>2008-09-02T13:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T14:02:40.339-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;You ever had a dream so bad you woke up shaking? It's only happened a few times that I remember but it literally fucked up my entire day. My muscles are sore from something that was all in my mind. You know the kind of dreams were you forget that it's just a dream and you wake up mad at someone for something that never happened. Frustrating. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&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/3965836334651345175-1424560022845083069?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1424560022845083069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=1424560022845083069' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/1424560022845083069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/1424560022845083069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/09/bad-dreams.html' title='Bad Dreams'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-1713760052288860506</id><published>2008-08-31T13:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T13:58:28.384-07:00</updated><title type='text'>L.A.X</title><content type='html'>I was never a big fan of The Game, but I listened to his new album and I must say I'm impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/pl/E2xH6dhRHU/aus=false/"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://media.imeem.com/pl/E2xH6dhRHU/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="300" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imeem.com/drewdank/playlist/HbhBAUTm/the_game_lax_official_explicit_album_music_playlist/"&gt;The Game - L.A.X. (Official Explicit Album)&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-1713760052288860506?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1713760052288860506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=1713760052288860506' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/1713760052288860506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/1713760052288860506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/lax.html' title='L.A.X'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-8530189905259765060</id><published>2008-08-30T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T13:27:11.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Obama '08</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="300" height="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.worldstarhiphop.com/videos/e/16711680/wshhZbvu3E86mK81gtqy"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.worldstarhiphop.com/videos/e/16711680/wshhZbvu3E86mK81gtqy" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="300" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;This had me teary eyed. Especially when he touched the topic of affording college. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;I think it is time for change. "We Don't need four more of the last eight years"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;OBAAAAAAAAAAAMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-8530189905259765060?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8530189905259765060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=8530189905259765060' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/8530189905259765060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/8530189905259765060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/obama-08.html' title='Obama &apos;08'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-6953809578813698265</id><published>2008-08-26T22:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T22:26:20.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Never Ending Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;I know you've heard it before, "people don't change unless they want to change". It's the damn truth, I have to come to terms with that. No matter how loud you yell, how many times you threaten to break up with someone, no matter how many times they say they're going to change. The fact is your mouth isn't strong enough to make them move. If someone keeps constantly doing the same shit, it should be a sign for most to leave...but it's not for me. And that's my problem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;I've changed my life, at first I thought it was for the better. No more drugs and liquor to stir my mind away from reality. But I've become someone I used to be. Someone I thought would never come back. The girl who has everything going for her but can't seem to see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I can't blame anyone but myself. I've pushed my friends away, I don't even know who they are anymore. The last of their words strike me like a flame, a constant reminder that I fucked up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;It's hard for me to even write this. I'm fighting the truth with what I want it to be, and not taking it for what it is. I'll get back to you on this one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-6953809578813698265?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6953809578813698265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=6953809578813698265' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/6953809578813698265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/6953809578813698265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/never-ending-story.html' title='Never Ending Story'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-567682985051815743</id><published>2008-08-20T21:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T21:13:43.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Happened To Acting Like A Lady?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;I'm tired of females saying they don't associate with other females. Posting things like "Fuck Bitches" BITCH, you are a BITCH. Women need to stop the negativity towards other females. I had my moment, It's not easy to have female relationships but it's not impossible you just need to associate with the right people. Not these childish females, trying to feed off who the next person they are going to "wash". Men are just as grimy as females. So for a female to say they only associate with guys, is stupid. For females to bring other females down, thats a fucking joke. Don't you realize that there are a shitload of men who love to do just that. (I'm not down talking men either). You expect to live your lives around males forever? Your not one, and acting like a male is not cute nor a better way to live or act. What ever happened to just acting like a lady? Females trying to grab their crotch in pictures when theres no dick there or talk about snuffing guys, GOD! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;ACT LIKE A LADY, YOUR NOT A MAN.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-567682985051815743?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/567682985051815743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=567682985051815743' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/567682985051815743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/567682985051815743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-happened-to-acting-like-lady.html' title='What Happened To Acting Like A Lady?'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-3124483562448030748</id><published>2008-08-20T20:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T20:36:08.623-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Are You Fucking Kidding Me?"</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="300" height="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.worldstarhiphop.com/videos/e/16711680/wshh0h4U45bd4aR71s6i"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.worldstarhiphop.com/videos/e/16711680/wshh0h4U45bd4aR71s6i" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="300" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;This disgusts me. How can someone say Hitler was a great man who did great things. Hitler wanted to exterminate practically EVERYONE, including &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;black people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;. He was a racist and hypocrite, like the man in the video. One of the most ignorant things I've watched in a while.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;How stupid is this man?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-3124483562448030748?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3124483562448030748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=3124483562448030748' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/3124483562448030748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/3124483562448030748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/are-you-fucking-kidding-me.html' title='&quot;Are You Fucking Kidding Me?&quot;'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-6385610840643416866</id><published>2008-08-17T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T19:53:11.258-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Celibacy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;I'm tired of sex, Honestly it complicates everything. I had previously stopped having sex for a while because I was misconstruing love with the physical aspect of sex. Having sex with someone doesn't mean you love them more or less. I'm tired of sex, don't get me wrong...it's fun, you catch a great feeling for the time. But what do I gain after sex? Not a damn thing. If anything sex won't bring me closer to a person. It doesn't separate any of my relationships past or present. I need more than pelvis to pelvis. Something that will make an impact and really make me feel because sex has made me numb.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;So I plan to start my celibacy again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-6385610840643416866?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6385610840643416866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=6385610840643416866' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/6385610840643416866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/6385610840643416866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/celibacy.html' title='Celibacy'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-2520095749383103517</id><published>2008-08-17T13:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T14:09:05.527-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friend or Foe</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;People are your friends when liquor and drugs are around. Or when they want to party, but honestly how many people can you really call your friends once the high is down? How many friends are willing to accept change for the better? I can't deal with people bringing me down verbally or in situations that aren't "me" anymore. I know what's best for me and its not the bud or the hoes anymore, that worlds tainted and I'm done with that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-2520095749383103517?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2520095749383103517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=2520095749383103517' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/2520095749383103517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/2520095749383103517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/friend-or-foe.html' title='Friend or Foe'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-4729141023918659477</id><published>2008-08-17T13:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T13:57:41.015-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lieing Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate it when people lie in general, I give props to the person who tells me shit that I don't want to hear. Not the person who lies about what color draws they had on this morning. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-4729141023918659477?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4729141023918659477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=4729141023918659477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/4729141023918659477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/4729141023918659477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/lieing-part-1.html' title='Lieing Part 1'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-8995173840157451783</id><published>2008-08-17T13:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T13:54:22.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Temptation is Tempting?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Theres nothing better than &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; giving into temptation. Especially when your in a relationship. I was talking to my homeboy yesterday. He was like "You know, Since I've been in a relationship girls are throwin' the pussy at me all of a sudden". Isn't that the truth though? When your single no one wants you, when your in a relationship suddenly your everyone's new found attraction. It's sad, but in my opinion knowing that your a faithful person is a lot better than the feeling after you cheat. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-8995173840157451783?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8995173840157451783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=8995173840157451783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/8995173840157451783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/8995173840157451783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/temptation-is-tempting.html' title='Temptation is Tempting?'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-5935066662628722825</id><published>2008-08-17T13:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-17T13:47:53.569-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cookie Jar</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="300" height="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.worldstarhiphop.com/videos/e/16711680/wshhwhz8CI92c8Sy98up"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.worldstarhiphop.com/videos/e/16711680/wshhwhz8CI92c8Sy98up" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="300" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Never was a real big fan of Gym Class Heroes but this song is very interesting.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-5935066662628722825?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5935066662628722825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=5935066662628722825' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/5935066662628722825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/5935066662628722825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/cookie-jar.html' title='Cookie Jar'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-2883495860261452354</id><published>2008-08-12T18:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T19:05:25.815-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Keep The Past In The Past</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;I always told myself I'd never put myself in a situation similar to what I was in 2 years ago. The other night I did. I faced someone who I thought I'd never see again in my life. Someone who put me through too much pain at such a young age. I knew what I was doing. I don't know why I felt the need to fuck with fate. I had no business going back there and I did. The bruises faded, but it seems the scars are still a part of me. I don't know why, my life seems perfect. My current boyfriend treats me better than he did on his worst day but I find myself still hurting, screaming on the inside and no one bothers to give a fuck. So why do I? I'm trying to love someone and I don't know how because of him... because back then love was a lie, so how can I find truth? I have no trust in anyone. But I need to learn how to keep the past in the past or how else am I going to build a future?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-2883495860261452354?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2883495860261452354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=2883495860261452354' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/2883495860261452354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/2883495860261452354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/keep-past-in-past.html' title='Keep The Past In The Past'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-3726608165184500593</id><published>2008-08-12T18:45:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-12T18:49:27.867-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I love you more than yesterday"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;I hate that saying. It's supposed to make you feel like your growing a stronger connection with the other person. But in my opinion it only makes me wonder about yesterday and the day before.&lt;br /&gt;How much more do you love me than yesterday? And what about today? Should tomorrow be any different. I think when you love someone, you love them. It shouldn't be more or less than that.&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/3965836334651345175-3726608165184500593?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3726608165184500593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=3726608165184500593' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/3726608165184500593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/3726608165184500593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-love-you-more-than-yesterday.html' title='&quot;I love you more than yesterday&quot;'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-3842316575376313290</id><published>2008-08-07T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T13:33:23.124-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sugar and Spice</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;So the movie Sugar and Spice, is old. But I watched it again the other night and there's a funny line&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;that kind of stuck on me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;"The Beatles were wrong! Love isn't all you need. Love won't buy my baby diapers, love won't buy groceries and love sure as hell won't buy my new jeans after i lose my baby weight. Soon I'll just be some fatass sitting on the couch wearing chick jeans."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Now it's funny, but it made me think. Does love just drain a person or can love conquer all? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-3842316575376313290?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3842316575376313290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=3842316575376313290' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/3842316575376313290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/3842316575376313290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/sugar-and-spice.html' title='Sugar and Spice'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-8576233861683192375</id><published>2008-08-06T12:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T13:19:25.902-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck It Part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Fuck the the rappers who don't portray women as beautiful, but as disposable toys.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt; Fuck the government, this isn't land of the free we don't even have freedom of speech.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt; Fuck the 500 year head start, minorities will never be dominant as long as theres a white president.  Fuck the people who ever turned me down from a job, and no I won't use my tits to get ahead. Fuck you. Fuck the media as a whole, what you see isn't reality tv. Fuck the police, their badge is not of honor, but more like deceit. Fuck double standards. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Part 1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-8576233861683192375?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8576233861683192375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=8576233861683192375' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/8576233861683192375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/8576233861683192375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/fuck-it-part-1.html' title='Fuck It Part 1'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-8794902172971689650</id><published>2008-08-06T12:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T12:28:20.485-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vows</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;What is it that keeps two people together forever?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt; I always questioned what it was that gave people the strength to stick together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt; good day, bad day, in sickness and health and all that good stuff. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;These days, people don't meet the "love of their lives" young anymore.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt; Back in the day, girls got married as young as 17 and it was normal, These days&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt; at 17 its all about sex, what's love?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Chivalry is dead, guys as a whole don't respect women as they used to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt; And most women no longer have respect for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank the media for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Use your mental, Stop the physical.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-8794902172971689650?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8794902172971689650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=8794902172971689650' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/8794902172971689650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/8794902172971689650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/08/vows.html' title='Vows'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-2676799715462766882</id><published>2008-07-24T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T20:17:47.705-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Dieing Over PLAYSTATION PARTS?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;The world is fucked up in more ways than one. People want materialistic shit so bad, they'll kill another person to get it. Not to mention most kids in the Congo won't see their 18th birthday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;"Kids in Congo were being sent down mines to die so that kids in Europe and America could kill imaginary aliens in their living rooms," said Ex-British Parliament Member Oona King." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);"&gt;http://videogames.yahoo.com/feature/playstation-2-component-incites-african-war/1231745&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-2676799715462766882?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2676799715462766882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=2676799715462766882' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/2676799715462766882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/2676799715462766882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/dieing-over-diamonds-now-playstation.html' title='Dieing Over PLAYSTATION PARTS?'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-328478201962281105</id><published>2008-07-21T11:10:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T11:20:53.839-07:00</updated><title type='text'>We Cry When We Lie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Think about it, everyone has lied at least once right? but when were wrong. Were stuck, nothing else to do but cry. It manipulates the other person to feel bad. I've had guys give me the waterworks, thinking I cared half the time. I spent years listening to the excuses and the "please don't go's" along with those tears. Those fucking horrific tears. I cried because of him, but to myself. He cried to me, to make me believe. Evidence in the slightest bit, should be enough but why do we stay? Even when we know someone is lying. Were we genetically fucked at birth, being told the sky was blue, the grass was green, and we believed that hands down. But we could be told our partner's cheating, and can't bare to believe it. It never made much sense.  Tears mean nothing, I stop crying from this moment on. It will never get me anywhere in life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-328478201962281105?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/328478201962281105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=328478201962281105' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/328478201962281105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/328478201962281105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/we-cry-when-we-lie.html' title='We Cry When We Lie'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-6125624348793030775</id><published>2008-07-21T10:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T11:02:48.196-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When Trust Is Gone, It Really Is Gone</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;There's no way you can gain trust again, even if it wasn't fully there. So, I'm basically fucked. I'm stuck between someone I "love" and my instincts. I don't want to live like this. I hate constantly wondering and questioning every situation. Although most beg to differ, my instincts are always right.  If I would have listened to them, I would be better off right now. I said love wasn't enough, and I meant it. I wish it was, I wish love would be enough to make my instincts shut the fuck up already. When your lied to so many times, you don't know who's being truthful and who's not. I am beyond frustrated, I feel like I'm living with enemies. The only person on my team is myself. I'm losing this battle everyday, coming home defeated, never really coming face to face with my troubles. I was the only person I could rely on and it seems like I can't even help this situation. I might miss out on a lot of things because I give up so quickly,  but can you blame me? I have the same sob story every female has. I'm trying to change that, even if that means being alone for most of my life. I'll try not to go back to having "friends with benefits" but half of the time my pussy thinks before my heart. Back then, I was starting to confuse love with sexual desire, I didn't know that there was emotions tied to love. I didn't know I could feel, because I never really felt. I was manipulated and infatuated, not in love. I have to work on me, before I can work on us but since trust is gone, know that things will never be the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="630"  style=";color:transparent;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(15, 5, 149);font-family:Arial;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;Justina De Vill&lt;/b&gt;&lt;aim:timestamp style="display: inline; font-size: 11px;"&gt; (2:00:14 PM)&lt;/aim:timestamp&gt;:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;when a person is wrong, they cry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div id="631"  style=";color:transparent;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; color: rgb(15, 5, 149);font-family:Arial;font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;Justina De Vill&lt;/b&gt;&lt;aim:timestamp style="display: inline; font-size: 11px;"&gt; (2:00:16 PM)&lt;/aim:timestamp&gt;:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"  &gt;thats my theory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-6125624348793030775?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6125624348793030775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=6125624348793030775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/6125624348793030775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/6125624348793030775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/when-trust-is-gone-it-really-is-gone.html' title='When Trust Is Gone, It Really Is Gone'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-6731633240496981661</id><published>2008-07-17T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T20:58:35.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Is Used To Loosely</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;"I Love You", Go to Wikipedia and it simply states that I love you can be used for a wide variety of emotions, states, feelings, attitudes etc. So the term I love you really doesn't have much meaning if you think about it. People say I love you like its "hello" or "goodbye".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(192, 192, 192);"&gt;Guys use the word "I love you" as if it gives them a free pass into the pants, Some use it as a tool to misconstrue our emotions into believing that they care. Stop believing every idiot that tells you "I love you". He isn't the best thing that ever happened to you, you won't die if he leaves. The world will keep moving if one person doesn't "love you". In my opinion I say fuck the I love you's, I'd rather see something. If you want to use a term so loosely, then show me. And if you do you show me, be original about it, dinner and a movie won't make me believe it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-6731633240496981661?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6731633240496981661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=6731633240496981661' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/6731633240496981661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/6731633240496981661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/love-is-used-to-loosely.html' title='Love Is Used To Loosely'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-5574565991182680134</id><published>2008-07-17T11:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-17T11:41:51.835-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jazmine Sullivan</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="400" height="400"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/VSELVXI1XCg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/VSELVXI1XCg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="400"&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/3965836334651345175-5574565991182680134?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5574565991182680134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=5574565991182680134' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/5574565991182680134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/5574565991182680134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/jazmine-sullivan.html' title='Jazmine Sullivan'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-5292894042008864753</id><published>2008-07-14T17:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T17:13:19.519-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Ol' White America</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://tinypic.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i37.tinypic.com/29pesma.jpg" border="0" alt="Image and video hosting by TinyPic" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;It's amazing how this could be published, yet Nas's album couldn't be called "Nigger" because it's "offensive". White America could care less about minorites as a whole, yet they care about our music? Barry Blitt says "Retrospect? Outcry?" he wrote. "The magazine just came out ten minutes ago, at least give me a few days to decide whether to regret it or not..." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;ARE YOU KIDDING ME?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;BOYCOTT BOYCOTT BOYCOTT BOYCOTT &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;BOYCOTT BOYCOTT &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&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/3965836334651345175-5292894042008864753?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5292894042008864753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=5292894042008864753' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/5292894042008864753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/5292894042008864753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/good-ol-white-america.html' title='Good Ol&apos; White America'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i37.tinypic.com/29pesma_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-6610379600654032821</id><published>2008-07-10T20:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T20:34:28.395-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nas vs. Fox 5</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;object height="300" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://videos.onsmash.com/e/WXCmLL5pkZhHbSLW"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://videos.onsmash.com/e/WXCmLL5pkZhHbSLW" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="300" width="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Now, This is just amazing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;No Video Hoes, Just real shit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;A man who speaks his mind, what's better?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-6610379600654032821?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6610379600654032821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=6610379600654032821' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/6610379600654032821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/6610379600654032821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/nas-vs-fox-5.html' title='Nas vs. Fox 5'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-5873999958796757654</id><published>2008-07-10T20:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T20:10:18.233-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Much Pride Between You &amp; I</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Not for nothing, pride can ruin relationships.&lt;br /&gt;If theres too much of it between people, no one could ever let shit go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Sometimes you fight for hours upon hours and then forget why you started fighting in the first place. But see, you have this pride who backs you up when you know your wrong. Telling you your angry, when you know your not. Telling you to keep bickering, knowing there's nothing to bitch about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Pride is the reason why people never really express how they feel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;I have to let my pride go, It's taking up too much space in a room so small.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/3965836334651345175-5873999958796757654?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5873999958796757654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=5873999958796757654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/5873999958796757654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/5873999958796757654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/too-much-pride-between-you-i.html' title='Too Much Pride Between You &amp; I'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-8748495724645963578</id><published>2008-07-04T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T17:39:59.543-07:00</updated><title type='text'>His Beginning Was My End</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I hate starting over. I hate the questions and getting to know people. I hate trust, It's the worst feeling next to love. How can you trust to someone you don't know. People talk so greatly about falling in love like its the best thing that could happen to someone. Love drives people fucking crazy. what happens when two people who "love" each other break up? They fall. So I say why "fall" in love? Let love take it's time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;                                                                                I'm a hypocrite though. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I figure I'd give him some rope, but not enough to hang himself with. It all seems like bullshit looking back. I'm sitting here hurting. I can't say he hurt me because I let him get inside me physically and emotionally. So who can I blame but myself. I can cry a million tears and it won't do shit, I had to learn that the hard way. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;                                            "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The real events that have  happened to me have been fucked up, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204); font-weight: bold;font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;                                                                           not my mind!" -Jack Starks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;I don't know if he broke my heart, because my heart had already been broken and I never really fixed it. But I gave him what was left, hoping he wouldn't be another guy that slide between my legs or played me like a puppet. Maybe if for once I gave things a chance, they would work in my favor. But once you feel betrayed, there's no real way to erase the little devil tapping away at the side of your head questioning every little text message or phone call. And questioning whether or not it was real. I still don't know what's real in this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;"I wonder if I've been changed in the  night? Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I  can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next  question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!"- Alice in Wonderland&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;                                                                 &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I know love isn't enough but,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;                                                                     I'm not finished with this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-8748495724645963578?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8748495724645963578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=8748495724645963578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/8748495724645963578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/8748495724645963578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/his-beginning-was-my-end.html' title='His Beginning Was My End'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-4278914887471603274</id><published>2008-07-02T20:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T21:17:51.247-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck That, I Want My Face Back.</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;object width="300" height="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cO_37ZFKUmM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cO_37ZFKUmM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="300" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Shannon Matesky isn't the only one who feels that sites such as Myspace and Facebook have taken over REAL life. What is the root of all evil? Myspace. Any "beef" or relationship gone wrong, yes, blame Myspace. Guys no longer ask for numbers, but now ask for URL'S to Myspace profiles. This site has become not only an addiction for most people but a way of life. I can only imagine what would happen if Myspace suddenly shut down? Would there be strikes? Would people commit suicide? Based on this demand for Myspace, I wouldn't be surprised. I think people need to remember that there are other things in life besides friend requests, comments and top friends. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-4278914887471603274?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4278914887471603274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=4278914887471603274' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/4278914887471603274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/4278914887471603274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/fuck-that-i-want-my-face-back.html' title='Fuck That, I Want My Face Back.'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-7876454315470905315</id><published>2008-07-02T17:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T17:15:19.680-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Original Poetry'/><title type='text'>I Should've Never Put My Heart Into It</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;I should've never put my heart into it.&lt;br /&gt;Thought I was through with it but everytime a distant memory&lt;br /&gt;starts to fade I grab ahold of whatevers astray.&lt;br /&gt;And somewhere in the mist of all of this our love floated away.&lt;br /&gt;I should've never put my heart into it because everytime our song plays, it rips me away.&lt;br /&gt;My heart shattered in pieces waiting for a spiritual awakening to glue back the pieces&lt;br /&gt;but apparently, my spirits not in the mood to be awaken and shaken, into the girl I used to be&lt;br /&gt;and let's be honest, you didn't love me...You were used to me.&lt;br /&gt;And here I am reminiscing about what used to be.&lt;br /&gt;I should've never put my heart into it. Did I not take enough lashes from the whips of your words? Did I not take the pain of the scent of another womans yearn and perfume, the fume from the flame left tangled with no remains? I still smell your scent as I spent days almost empty inside tryin' to fill myself with lies of what could've, should've and would've been and right now I feel like.. damn, I'll never love again. Can't even picture life without you even as a friend.&lt;br /&gt;The white lies turned into an pneumonia of double dealing and I was dealing with double feelings.&lt;br /&gt;Should I give up on this foe? He's not perfect but he's all that I've known.&lt;br /&gt;I should've never put my heart into it.&lt;br /&gt;And what do I have to show for it? Tell the world what I have to show for it.&lt;br /&gt;But lukewarm kisses, mornings awaken with swollen eyes had become routine.&lt;br /&gt;Singing sinful songs of how sorry you were.&lt;br /&gt;I should've never put my heart into it, but see.. Maybe theres someone a little more&lt;br /&gt;perfect than him, a little more perfect then than. I'm left cluching a painful love too afraid&lt;br /&gt;to let go, but that pain was too much for us to grow and I should've been through with it.&lt;br /&gt;But I put my heart into it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia; color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;-Nana Castro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-7876454315470905315?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7876454315470905315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=7876454315470905315' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/7876454315470905315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/7876454315470905315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-shouldve-never-put-my-heart-into-it.html' title='I Should&apos;ve Never Put My Heart Into It'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-5858390312238674588</id><published>2008-07-02T16:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T16:18:05.448-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='YouTube Hate'/><title type='text'>Racism On YouTube</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Is it me, or does YouTube have extraordinary amount of racism being posted per day. You watch videos on your favorite artist and you get "Fuck niggers, Fucks spiks". Why is YouTube not doing anything about this? They block porn because it's "so-called" offensive, yet they keep these racist comments and it isn't supposed to be? Don't get me wrong, I like YouTube and the fact that they entertain me with people such as Chris Crocker and Lil Pito. But, this issue needs to be addressed in my opinion. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-5858390312238674588?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5858390312238674588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=5858390312238674588' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/5858390312238674588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/5858390312238674588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/racism-on-youtube.html' title='Racism On YouTube'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-5587215676353334825</id><published>2008-07-02T15:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T16:17:46.171-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aids Awareness'/><title type='text'>The Trashman</title><content type='html'>&lt;center&gt;&lt;span class="blacktext12"&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_Main_ctl00_UserNetwork1_ctrlMessage"&gt;&lt;object height="300" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZXKRO-uiorc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZXKRO-uiorc&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="300" width="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="blacktext12"&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_Main_ctl00_UserNetwork1_ctrlMessage"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Personally, I find this man to be the scum of the earth. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="blacktext12"&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_Main_ctl00_UserNetwork1_ctrlMessage"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="blacktext12"&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_Main_ctl00_UserNetwork1_ctrlMessage"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);"&gt;Whether this is fact or fiction, AIDS is out there. People are dieing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="blacktext12"&gt;&lt;span id="ctl00_Main_ctl00_UserNetwork1_ctrlMessage"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="blacktext12"&gt;                             &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-5587215676353334825?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5587215676353334825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=5587215676353334825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/5587215676353334825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/5587215676353334825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/trashman.html' title='The Trashman'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3965836334651345175.post-7762704042678330162</id><published>2008-07-02T15:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T15:27:46.367-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Not Fucking You For Your Mind</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object height="300" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xyv3rx05U5w&amp;amp;hl=en"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xyv3rx05U5w&amp;amp;hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="300" width="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 204, 204);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Thea Monyee' said it best. It's easy for us to watch this and find it comical, until we are put into a similar situation. Our initial reaction to finding out a boyfriend/girlfriend has cheated would be to get confrontational with the other person. I mean its human nature right? Its hard to find a genuine guy these days. It's also hard to separate the ones who are being truthful from the ones who are thinking with the wrong head. So Thea Monyee' brings up a great question. What are guys fucking you for? Is it your mind? Or is it to fill some type of void? You know, the saying "Sticks and Stones, May break my bones but words will never hurt me". Thea Monyee' proves that words can hit home harder than a fist. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3965836334651345175-7762704042678330162?l=nanacastroblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7762704042678330162/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3965836334651345175&amp;postID=7762704042678330162' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/7762704042678330162'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3965836334651345175/posts/default/7762704042678330162'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nanacastroblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/not-fucking-you-for-your-mind.html' title='Not Fucking You For Your Mind'/><author><name>Nana Castro</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16827640093308172823</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Vv0_3h4uXb4/SKkJ463p6dI/AAAAAAAAAEI/YrdlpVTcLqQ/S220/020.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
