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<rss xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" version="2.0"><channel><atom:link rel="hub" href="http://tumblr.superfeedr.com/" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"/><description>You can’t judge me if you don’t know who I am.
I write to express, not to impress.</description><title>anonymous</title><generator>Tumblr (3.0; @aisforanonymous)</generator><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/</link><item><title>I fucking like you</title><description>&lt;p&gt;I have no idea what to say right now; my mind is a mess. Are you giving me mixed signals or was I just letting myself get my hopes up high? I can&amp;#8217;t believe I&amp;#8217;m starting to fall for you &lt;em&gt;again&lt;/em&gt;. For some stupid reason, I keep thinking, &amp;#8220;Maybe this time it will work out.&amp;#8221;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;What. The. Fuck.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- A is for Anonymous&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/1334254503</link><guid>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/1334254503</guid><pubDate>Sun, 17 Oct 2010 00:36:00 -0700</pubDate></item><item><title>Invisible</title><description>&lt;p&gt;It has been the longest time since I&amp;#8217;ve blogged. I&amp;#8217;ve disappeared completely on tumblr for a few months (or is it a few weeks?) but now I&amp;#8217;m back.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;If only reality was like that. If only I could disappear completely whenever I wanted to, and come back whenever I feel like it. If only.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- A is for Anonymous&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/1136131325</link><guid>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/1136131325</guid><pubDate>Thu, 16 Sep 2010 22:47:00 -0700</pubDate></item><item><title>Confessions: #2</title><description>&lt;p&gt;It has been two years. Two years since we first laid eyes on each other. I remember the first time I looked at him, I felt something. Not attraction, no, but I felt that he was going to be a part of my life somehow. He showed me affection like no guy ever did, and it made me feel special. I was stupid, I let him go. I fell in love with him after I let him go. To this day, I know that I&amp;#8217;ll still take him back if he asks me to. I know that I&amp;#8217;ll give him another chance. But, it should be him giving &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; another chance. It should be me asking if he&amp;#8217;d take me back. My heart wants no other right now. Maybe I&amp;#8217;ll move on soon, or maybe it&amp;#8217;ll take a little while longer, but one thing&amp;#8217;s for sure: &lt;strong&gt;I still love him.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- A is for Anonymous&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/878886175</link><guid>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/878886175</guid><pubDate>Fri, 30 Jul 2010 01:07:00 -0700</pubDate></item><item><title>Girl with two faces</title><description>&lt;p&gt;You&amp;#8217;re really good at acting; you&amp;#8217;ve got me fooled for the longest time. Not anymore. I see who you are. You criticize the girls who put on makeup, saying they don&amp;#8217;t need it to be pretty. Who&amp;#8217;s the girl with the thick line of eyeliner and lip smeared with lipstick? Who&amp;#8217;s face is the one obviously covered in blush? It looks to me like you&amp;#8217;re the hypocrite. You act as if you&amp;#8217;re the &lt;strong&gt;it&lt;/strong&gt; girl; the girl whose got a good grip on life and it&amp;#8217;s concepts. I looked up to you before, you know that? Not anymore, &lt;em&gt;you&amp;#8217;re just another girl with two faces.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- A is for Anonymous&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/878865865</link><guid>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/878865865</guid><pubDate>Fri, 30 Jul 2010 00:59:50 -0700</pubDate></item><item><title>My biggest fear</title><description>&lt;p&gt;Do you recall reading in one of my previous posts that it scared me sometimes how I imagine myself being the reason for someone&amp;#8217;s death? Want to know my biggest fear? Deep down, I have this feeling sometimes that I&amp;#8217;m capable of &lt;strong&gt;murder.&lt;/strong&gt; I try not to think about it, I don&amp;#8217;t want it to come true. I can&amp;#8217;t help it though. Inside, I have this strong feeling that I really am capable, and that&amp;#8217;s my biggest fear.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- A is for anonymous&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/860409892</link><guid>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/860409892</guid><pubDate>Mon, 26 Jul 2010 00:36:55 -0700</pubDate></item><item><title>Traitors</title><description>&lt;p&gt;You were the ones I could turn to when I felt like all my friends abandoned me, but I guess you did the same. Just because I fucking blew you guys off &lt;strong&gt;once&lt;/strong&gt;. Is it really my fault that I was too tired to hang out with you guys yesterday? Now you make plans and don&amp;#8217;t invite me. Not just that, but you guys barely talked to me yesterday after I said no. What. The. FUCK. I hope you all crash and get permanently paralyzed. I hope you all choke on your spit. Piss me off,&lt;strong&gt; fuck you traitors&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- A is for anonymous&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/858556162</link><guid>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/858556162</guid><pubDate>Sun, 25 Jul 2010 15:49:32 -0700</pubDate></item><item><title>Confessions: #1</title><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;First confession&lt;/strong&gt;: I used to carve myself. You&amp;#8217;d have to be an idiot to not get what I mean. Except, it wasn&amp;#8217;t that bad; I didn&amp;#8217;t actually bleed. I&amp;#8217;d only press hard enough so it made a mark, so it would penetrate the skin but at the same time, not bleed. Why? At first, it was because I didn&amp;#8217;t know what else to do to help me cope with my emotions. I knew my dilemmas weren&amp;#8217;t the end of the world, but I couldn&amp;#8217;t take it anymore. I needed an outlet, so I turned to the silver. Only, I made sure I didn&amp;#8217;t bleed. After awhile, he found out. Actually, I told him, as a joke, hoping he&amp;#8217;d see past it and know I wasn&amp;#8217;t joking. Surprisingly, he did. He&amp;#8217;d check on my arm for any fresh cuts daily; it made me feel loved. We got into an argument. While we were making up, he told me &lt;em&gt;he&lt;/em&gt;cut himself. Once. He told me it was tiny, it that bled a bit. I felt guilty, because when I cut myself, it didn&amp;#8217;t bleed at all. He checked my arm, and there was no fresh cuts. He stopped checking after awhile, and I went back to carving, just one noticeable line, so he&amp;#8217;d see, and go back to checking. I&amp;#8217;d then stop. Eventually, he grew tired of me. I stopped carving, during the time when I was hurting the most. The point is, I carved myself so he would show me he cared by checking, rather than using it as an outlet for my emotions.&lt;strong&gt; I cut for his attention&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;So now, whenever I see my fading scars, I don&amp;#8217;t think of those hard times that caused me to carve myself. I think of him. I think about how he used to care for me and how I let him slip away.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- A is for anonymous&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/856564550</link><guid>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/856564550</guid><pubDate>Sun, 25 Jul 2010 04:28:27 -0700</pubDate></item><item><title>Angry teenagers</title><description>&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#8217;m one of them. Don&amp;#8217;t get me wrong, I&amp;#8217;m not always angry. You don&amp;#8217;t want to get on my bad side though. Sometimes, I get so infuriated that it makes me want to kill someone. Sometimes, when I&amp;#8217;m so angry at a person, I imagine myself being the reason for their death. It scares me sometimes.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- A is for anonymous&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/856027791</link><guid>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/856027791</guid><pubDate>Sun, 25 Jul 2010 01:05:47 -0700</pubDate></item><item><title>Deceived</title><description>&lt;p&gt;It&amp;#8217;s like when I&amp;#8217;m face to face with you in reality, you&amp;#8217;re still my best friend. I&amp;#8217;ll tell you what&amp;#8217;s up and what&amp;#8217;s been going on with my life. But, when I&amp;#8217;m not with you, then I hate your guts. I think I finally know why. You see, I don&amp;#8217;t want to lose any more friends. I need someone to be there for me. I &lt;em&gt;want&lt;/em&gt; someone to be there for me. You know what I realized though? Even if we ARE face to face in reality, you never asked what&amp;#8217;s going on with my life, or how my summer is so far. I volunteered the information. You told me you wanted make plans with me, but later on I see you&amp;#8217;ve planned out a month&amp;#8217;s worth of things with your other friend with things that &lt;em&gt;we&lt;/em&gt; were supposed to do. I just want to&lt;strong&gt; cut &lt;/strong&gt;you, but for some reason, whenever we see each other in real life, I forget all the hatred I feel towards you and act as if we&amp;#8217;re still best friends. It&amp;#8217;s sad, because you don&amp;#8217;t even take the time to ask how my life has been&amp;#8230; in real life and over the internet. Thanks. You&amp;#8217;re the &lt;em&gt;best&lt;/em&gt;, friend.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- A is for anonymous&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/853336640</link><guid>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/853336640</guid><pubDate>Sat, 24 Jul 2010 02:01:13 -0700</pubDate></item><item><title>Best friends for NEVER</title><description>&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#8217;ve learned to not believe in best friends. In fact, I think best friends hurt you the most. You&amp;#8217;re blinded by your friendship that you don&amp;#8217;t see their flaws. What&amp;#8217;s so good about seeing their flaws? You might ask. It shows you the real person they can be. I used to have a best friend. I&amp;#8217;ve recently realized she was never really there for me at all. Thinking back, I was her shoulder to cry on. Was she mine? No. When I was having problems with my ex, did she do anything to consolidate me? No. She laughed. I just went along with it. I listen to what she said. I listened when she said that he was a jerk. In my heart, I still loved him. Did I tell her that? No. I knew I&amp;#8217;d just hear the same thing from her over and over again, &amp;#8220;He&amp;#8217;s a jerk, move on.&amp;#8221; Deep down, I knew it was true, but I couldn&amp;#8217;t help my feelings for him. I was frustrated, I didn&amp;#8217;t know what to do. She wasn&amp;#8217;t offering me any solid advice. It got to the point where I avoided talking about him with her altogether. If he and I suddenly started talking again, I tried my best to make sure she didn&amp;#8217;t know. If something happened between us, she couldn&amp;#8217;t know. If he hurt me, she definitely couldn&amp;#8217;t know about it. I ended up telling her when I got the courage. I made it seem like a joke, and all she said was, &amp;#8220;I told you so.&amp;#8221; Best friends. They&amp;#8217;re supposed to be there for you. Then again, life isn&amp;#8217;t a fairytale. We&amp;#8217;re dealing with reality here, and sometimes &lt;strong&gt;reality bites&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- A is for anonymous&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/840257640</link><guid>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/840257640</guid><pubDate>Wed, 21 Jul 2010 03:15:00 -0700</pubDate></item><item><title>"I just wish someone would see how NOT okay I really am."</title><description>“I just wish someone would see how NOT okay I really am.”&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt; - &lt;em&gt;A is for anonymous&lt;/em&gt;</description><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/835968867</link><guid>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/835968867</guid><pubDate>Tue, 20 Jul 2010 03:51:45 -0700</pubDate></item><item><title>I try to do what I can, but I'm feeling destroyed</title><description>&lt;p&gt;I think there&amp;#8217;s something wrong with me. Every night, I feel depressed. I don&amp;#8217;t know if depressed is even the right term to describe it because I know how serious depression is. It&amp;#8217;s definitely not sadness though. All my thoughts just overwhelm me and I find myself feeling isolated. I cried for a few minutes awhile ago. I just collapsed on my bed and cried. I don&amp;#8217;t know why, but at the same time, I do. Does that even make sense? I can&amp;#8217;t tell anybody how I&amp;#8217;m feeling. They&amp;#8217;ll just think I&amp;#8217;m pathetic. They&amp;#8217;ll contradict what I&amp;#8217;m saying. I hate this. Some people fall asleep with smiles on their faces. Me? Before I sleep, I think about my flaws, my &amp;#8216;friends&amp;#8217;, my ex, everything. No, actually, I &lt;em&gt;try&lt;/em&gt; to think about them. I end up falling asleep before my thoughts get too deep. I stay up late just so I can fall asleep more quickly as soon as I lie down. All these thoughts get in my head, but before I know it, I&amp;#8217;m sleeping. I don&amp;#8217;t even know if I&amp;#8217;m making sense right now.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- A is for anonymous&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/835909600</link><guid>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/835909600</guid><pubDate>Tue, 20 Jul 2010 03:27:37 -0700</pubDate></item><item><title>Second thoughts</title><description>&lt;p&gt;Fuck. There are so many things I just want to get out of my system, but I&amp;#8217;m still a little skeptical. I&amp;#8217;m scared you all might somehow figure out who I am, but, I made this blog to vent and &lt;strong&gt;that&amp;#8217;s exactly what I&amp;#8217;m going to do&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- A is for anonymous&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/835882930</link><guid>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/835882930</guid><pubDate>Tue, 20 Jul 2010 03:16:59 -0700</pubDate></item><item><title>Got a secret, can you keep it?</title><description>&lt;p&gt;If you watch Pretty Little Liars, I guess I can tell you that I got the &amp;#8220;A is for anonymous&amp;#8221; idea from there. No, my name does &lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; start with an A.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Who knows what kind of things will turn up on this blog. There may be secrets, there may be confessions, hate, love&amp;#8230; It doesn&amp;#8217;t matter because &lt;em&gt;you can&amp;#8217;t judge me if you don&amp;#8217;t know who I am.&lt;/em&gt; That&amp;#8217;s what I love about it.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- A is for anonymous&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/831763696</link><guid>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/831763696</guid><pubDate>Mon, 19 Jul 2010 04:55:58 -0700</pubDate></item><item><title>Who are you?</title><description>&lt;p&gt;I&amp;#8217;m a teenage girl who&amp;#8217;s so much more than meets the eye. Nobody takes the time to realize that, though. I&amp;#8217;m not saying I&amp;#8217;m special, I&amp;#8217;m saying I&amp;#8217;m not always the content/happy girl I seem to be. There are so many things I have bottled up inside that it kills me.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;P.S. I reside in Vancouver, BC and that&amp;#8217;s the only thing I&amp;#8217;m saying.&lt;br/&gt;Will I ever reveal my identity? Probably not.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;- A is for anonymous&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/831434953</link><guid>http://aisforanonymous.tumblr.com/post/831434953</guid><pubDate>Mon, 19 Jul 2010 02:37:00 -0700</pubDate><category>introduction</category></item></channel></rss>

