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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto</id>
  <title>Lindsay Kathryn</title>
  <subtitle>Lindsay Kathryn</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>Lindsay Kathryn</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2009-03-16T19:41:20Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="7441328" username="secretmanifesto" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:83233</id>
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    <title>meow meow meow</title>
    <published>2009-03-16T19:41:20Z</published>
    <updated>2009-03-16T19:41:20Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class='ljuser  ljuser-name_saintdargarius' lj:user='saintdargarius' style='white-space: nowrap;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://saintdargarius.livejournal.com/profile'&gt;&lt;img src='http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif' alt='[info]' width='17' height='17' style='vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href='http://saintdargarius.livejournal.com/'&gt;&lt;b&gt;saintdargarius&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;, &lt;span class='ljuser  ljuser-name_saintdargarius' lj:user='saintdargarius' style='white-space: nowrap;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://saintdargarius.livejournal.com/profile'&gt;&lt;img src='http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif' alt='[info]' width='17' height='17' style='vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href='http://saintdargarius.livejournal.com/'&gt;&lt;b&gt;saintdargarius&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span class='ljuser  ljuser-name_saintdargarius' lj:user='saintdargarius' style='white-space: nowrap;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://saintdargarius.livejournal.com/profile'&gt;&lt;img src='http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif' alt='[info]' width='17' height='17' style='vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href='http://saintdargarius.livejournal.com/'&gt;&lt;b&gt;saintdargarius&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:83023</id>
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    <title>new journal</title>
    <published>2009-03-16T03:51:39Z</published>
    <updated>2009-03-16T04:03:56Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Out of sadness I have deleted many things; photos, writings, etc., etc. That's alright though because I have plenty of life left in me and with the Lord's help I won't be giving up any time soon. I have time for new photos, writings and more. This journal was started as a means of coping with a loss, in the time between then and now, I've lost and gained. I'm currently very sad, very hopeful, joyous, with an anger that's dwindling. I figured it'd be a good idea to start anew, because I dislike reading this old thing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class='ljuser  ljuser-name_saintdargarius' lj:user='saintdargarius' style='white-space: nowrap;'&gt;&lt;a href='http://saintdargarius.livejournal.com/profile'&gt;&lt;img src='http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif' alt='[info]' width='17' height='17' style='vertical-align: bottom; border: 0; padding-right: 1px;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href='http://saintdargarius.livejournal.com/'&gt;&lt;b&gt;saintdargarius&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:82625</id>
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    <title>the margin bell</title>
    <published>2009-02-24T18:05:56Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-24T20:12:41Z</updated>
    <content type="html">In the sixth grade I did voluntary work at the church office, taking calls, faxing papers and canceling subscriptions. I have fond memories of this and the typewriter they allowed me to use for fun when I finished all my tasks. Back then I&amp;nbsp;was quite savvy with a keyboard and was the most accurate and quickest at typing in my computer class. I loved computers, but was much more intrigued by typewriters. I loved the clickity-clack of the keys and the margin bell that'd ring when I was approaching the end. The one in the office was electromechanical of course, but mistakes had to be corrected in the same way as one of those old fashioned typewriters. I especially like that part. For someone who has become so wary about making mistakes, I'm not at all bothered to go back, cross out the unwanted word and continue writing.&lt;br /&gt;A typewriter is like a film camera. While using both one must be much more intentional, much more patient and thoughtful. I'm tired of editing myself and I'm tired of taking a million shots using my digital camera to find that only one is really all that good. I know with discipline I can change that. I'm beginning to find certain people's imperfections really charming. I'd like myself to be more open to making mistakes and not editing myself to death.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:82429</id>
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    <title>Saint Dargarius</title>
    <published>2009-02-23T22:35:34Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-23T23:09:56Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" style="width: 489px; height: 393px;" src="http://img89.imageshack.us/img89/8265/darger2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" style="width: 489px; height: 364px;" src="http://img89.imageshack.us/img89/6140/dargercath.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" style="width: 490px; height: 450px;" src="http://img11.imageshack.us/img11/3623/dargerpic2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" style="width: 489px; height: 307px;" src="http://img6.imageshack.us/img6/7670/guidefoundart.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Darger"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Henry_Darger"&gt;Henry Darger&lt;/a&gt; is one of my current infatuations. I don't think I'll ever be bored by fanciful or child-like art. I'm not sure why I find it so intriguing.&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:82132</id>
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    <title>Grief.</title>
    <published>2009-02-23T05:42:25Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-23T20:52:42Z</updated>
    <content type="html">The heartburn is back. Always before I sleep. There are things I&amp;nbsp;want to do, to draw, to read, to study, but there are two midterms hanging over my head.&lt;br /&gt;I lack desire to pursue a relationship with God. Desire is also lacking in other aspects of my life. I suppose I never thought to pray for desire. I usually feel there are certain things I need to go through before I can approach him and most other people. Unlike most everyone else, he sees me whether I'm ready for him to or not. I need to go to him, however ugly I feel, however absent my desire might be. I&amp;nbsp;don't know if this makes sense...</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:81469</id>
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    <title>Study of Drapery by Mucha</title>
    <published>2009-02-20T19:27:25Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-20T19:27:48Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" style="width: 418px; height: 584px;" src="http://img9.imageshack.us/img9/4562/pu1p3ehapk0yp4p9njkqvkfuf8.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:81184</id>
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    <title>throw it away</title>
    <published>2009-02-11T18:02:51Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-20T19:28:18Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I just emptied the trash on my computer (aka Se&amp;ntilde;or comp-comp). There were more than 3,000 files deleted! That seems like a whole lot to me; 3,000 unwanted files. I didn't even bother to look through them in hopes of finding a photograph or writing that I might like better now than I did then. It is satisfying to let things go. Recently, I cleaned my room and somehow managed to throw two, large trash bags of junk away. It doesn't make sense to hold on to some things, but at some point in time it did. I find that strange. The mind also stores a lot of junk and I must admit I am guilty of letting clutter build up over time. I wish some things were more easily saved and deleted.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:81130</id>
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    <title>because I so often forget</title>
    <published>2009-02-09T03:12:26Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-09T03:15:12Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Drawing is such a therapeutic activity for me, as is painting. But there's something about getting my hands dirty with the soot of my charcoal pencils that calms me. When it comes to creating, I don't think charcoal is my best medium, but I'm starting to enjoy it more. I wish I could have a endless supply and sometimes I even wish I could quit everything and live immersed in the soot, with dirty fingers, forever working, forever drawing, smearing, erasing.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:80859</id>
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    <title>processing things...</title>
    <published>2009-02-09T01:40:07Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-09T02:07:35Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I feel like I need to be extremely careful about what I&amp;nbsp;surround myself with and I absolutely hate it. I need to be cautious about what I&amp;nbsp;listen to and when, lest it strike a chord that hurts me deeply. (I'll explain later...) I always feel unstable. It might be a trust issue or it might be wanting to know answers that may or may not exist. It's part of my personality to constantly feel like I need to solve problems and make life feel somewhat stable. Do I create problems to solve? I feel like I don't know things I should, and I&amp;nbsp;torture myself trying to figure out what is right, what I'm supposed to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've realized that I'm very attached to my music. The artists and songs I'm more familiar with in my collection all have some sort of emotion or memory or story behind them&amp;nbsp;(and though I think some artists might be very good musically, the memory I've somehow associated with them makes the music difficult to listen to at times). For example, mewithoutYou, which I discovered two years ago, can never be listened to now in the same way it was then. The lyrics aren't just clever and pretty anymore. I relate with them more than ever. My heart somehow chooses in the process whether to be happy or saddened by it. This goes for so many other things (books, music, movies and more).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heartbreak and certain situations have subsequently taken away many of the things I enjoy and have in fact turned them into things I must now avoid. But it's not all bad. I've been learning from this also. It's a cheesy and terrible thing, but I have no idea how else to say it other than that I just need to be the best I can, not hold back on account of what others have done and will do to me (or what they might think). Basically, I need to not care. Maybe that's not the thought process I should have, but for now, it will have to do because I cannot live this way any longer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so much more to this, but I am tired and sad and need to finish my homework. Dwelling is the keyword here. It's something I must stop. I am affected by everything too deeply.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:80168</id>
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    <title>0050</title>
    <published>2009-02-07T01:53:28Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-07T03:06:15Z</updated>
    <category term="flickr photos"/>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="padding: 3px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3259324982/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3357/3259324982_e81f21bbf6.jpg" style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3259324982/"&gt;0050&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/lindsaykathryn/"&gt;diving into the wreck&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"&gt;I first discovered Dostoevsky while reading one of my mother's books on existentialism. Today, I went to the Dostoevsky Festival that's being held at school. It was a fantastic dive into Russian culture, as well as a good refresher on Dostoevsky's life. It renewed my interest in pursuing Russian as a language (as I was able to hear native speakers) and reading more of Dostoevsky's work. Yay!&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:80020</id>
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    <title>a short existence</title>
    <published>2009-02-05T06:38:38Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-05T06:50:27Z</updated>
    <category term="ramblings"/>
    <content type="html">Today, as I exited the family center at school, I saw the empty playground. The sun was in my eyes and I&amp;nbsp;was in preschool again. I looked down to see my cowboy boots walking on asphalt marked with white. Then, I was outside of myself and thought, &amp;quot;We really are the same person.&amp;quot;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:79262</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/79262.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=79262"/>
    <title>ramble and a wishlist</title>
    <published>2009-02-02T03:42:58Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-02T06:51:09Z</updated>
    <category term="ramblings"/>
    <content type="html">I'm reading and taking notes, believe it or not. I never take notes. It's strange, because I seem so visual with my interest in art and all, but really, I think I'm more of an auditory learner. Even when I'm not exactly listening, I find parts of lectures stuck in my brain that I absorbed subconsciously or something. I decided to write stuff down for a change though, because this political science class seems intense (and it's a beginner's class too? WTF). I don't know why I'm writing this. I think it's because I've become bored with taking notes already, but I'll go back to it, promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;A little wishlist. Doubt I'll be getting any of these things soon, and I don't really care, I&amp;nbsp;guess. I just like to make lists.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DVD's:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ponette"&gt;Ponette&lt;/a&gt; by Jacques Doillon&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Collected Shorts of Jan Svankmajer&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Books:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Expressionist Drawings in Architecture by Pehnt Wolfgang (hardcover, preferably)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Atlas of Human Anatomy and Surgery (the &lt;a href="http://www.taschen.com/pages/en/catalogue/classics/all/00307/facts.atlas_of_anatomy.htm"&gt;illustrations&lt;/a&gt;!)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.taschen.com/pages/en/catalogue/popculture/all/00331/facts.the_circus_1870_1950.htm"&gt;The Circus, 1870-1950&lt;/a&gt; (Who blows 200 dollars on a book? For this one, maybe.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Computer Stuff:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;an upgraded account on Flickr&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;photoshop, for crying out loud&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;Extras:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;a typewriter (mechanical, preferably)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;a laserdisc player&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;You've Got To Be Kidding Me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;The &lt;a href="http://www.genuinescooters.com/scooters/stella/stella.html"&gt;Stella&lt;/a&gt; (embarrassing, but I like it soooo much ... in either avocado or orange, like below)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;img src="http://img509.imageshack.us/img509/736/orangestellaxa4.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I can be cool like this guy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="" src="http://img246.imageshack.us/img246/9118/tangiiif7.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:78630</id>
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    <title>0048</title>
    <published>2009-02-01T03:04:51Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-02T03:57:30Z</updated>
    <category term="flickr photos"/>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="padding: 3px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3243146852/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3257/3243146852_fe6ba71885.jpg" style="border: 0px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3243146852/"&gt;0048&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/lindsaykathryn/"&gt;diving into the wreck&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;i'll keep it in a hidden place, keep it in a hidden place&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:78391</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/78391.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=78391"/>
    <title>Describe what to do with your body when you die.</title>
    <published>2009-01-31T16:52:40Z</published>
    <updated>2009-02-02T03:57:43Z</updated>
    <category term="funny stories"/>
    <content type="html">Assuming I die young, I'd like to donate whatever organs I can, first and foremost. I'm not exactly sure what I'd want done with the rest of me; maybe have all my loved ones go out to sea, have some sort of toast and play &amp;quot;I'll Be Seeing You&amp;quot; by Liberace before they dump my body into the ocean. That, or be cremated, and have someone go to the Fun Factory in Redondo Beach and very slyly sprinkle my ashes around the place, or leave the urn amongst the other prizes (the Fun Factory is an arcade). Yes, that's what I'd like. Arcade or not (it might not exist when I die), I'd like it to take place somewhere near the ocean, for secret reasons. Got that?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:77981</id>
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    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=77981"/>
    <title>My relationship with music is a funny one.</title>
    <published>2009-01-31T01:42:04Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-31T03:11:36Z</updated>
    <category term="ramblings"/>
    <content type="html">I long so much to listen to it at times, while other times I &lt;em&gt;despise&lt;/em&gt; it. Leave me alone. Don't interrupt me. Let the sounds of life affect me as they will. I'm so disrespectful to it, which, aside from my laziness, might be why I could never be a musician... &lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've been trying to become more intentional and give things the amount of meaning and importance they should have (and do, though I ignore it), even small things like listening to music (and photography (though I wouldn't consider myself a photographer by any means) and school work and art projects and everything, really). Mind you, I'm &lt;em&gt;working&lt;/em&gt; on it. There are things in my life right now that are more important than others that really shouldn't be. I'll elaborate more on this later...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://community.livejournal.com/film_stills/1420229.html#cutid1"&gt;&lt;img width="442" height="187" border="0" src="http://img299.imageshack.us/img299/2893/74895190yr9.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;On another note, aren't the film stills for &lt;a href="http://community.livejournal.com/film_stills/1420229.html#cutid1"&gt;this movie&lt;/a&gt; pretty? I'm interested... There are so many movies I'd like to see, but some are so difficult to find, or are too darn expensive to purchase. Speaking of film, I'm taking Russian Cinema this semester and am excited for it, especially as I haven't seen any Russian films. I'm so curious!&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:77627</id>
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    <title>0046/0047 (i wouldn't be surprised if i had a heart attack)</title>
    <published>2009-01-30T22:09:22Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-31T00:23:27Z</updated>
    <category term="flickr photos"/>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="padding: 3px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3239164355/"&gt;&lt;img alt="" style="border: 0px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3111/3239164355_8343ba08e6.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 3px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3239164421/"&gt;&lt;img alt="" style="border: 0px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3499/3239164421_91e3918e6c.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3239164355/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;0046&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;"&gt; &amp;amp;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3239164421/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;0047&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/lindsaykathryn/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;diving into the wreck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 3px; text-align: left;"&gt;My heart has continually been broken and mended for so many years.&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:77258</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/77258.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=77258"/>
    <title>Peeling back the layers.</title>
    <published>2009-01-29T00:00:01Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-30T18:43:06Z</updated>
    <category term="ramblings"/>
    <content type="html">Expressing my thoughts, does it relieve me or remind me of them?&amp;nbsp;There are some ideas I have&amp;nbsp;that I like&amp;nbsp;swimming around in my brain, but other thoughts&amp;nbsp;are so damn painful. Why are the painful ones my most common visitors?&lt;br /&gt;I'd written something in my Moleskine during American Government and read it three times over, I was happy with the writing but saddened by the content. I can be fairly happy, so forgive me if my journal makes me out to be a horribly sad person. I suppose I'm more affected by that which makes me sad, and I&amp;nbsp;write about it consequently.&lt;br /&gt;I just realized a problem of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:77019</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/77019.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=77019"/>
    <title>Can you keep yourself from a pretty face?</title>
    <published>2009-01-28T20:09:00Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-28T20:19:47Z</updated>
    <category term="private entries"/>
    <content type="html">I find that I compare myself to her now, whereas before I&amp;nbsp;did not care. I used to feel sorry for her actually. I'm left wondering now and God how I hate wondering sometimes. I don't wonder about her anymore. Her face is clear, her frame is petite and her eyes are a piercing blue. She's beautiful, she seemed kind and she was most definitely &lt;u&gt;interested&lt;/u&gt;. She's left me looking at myself and thinking &amp;quot;how bland&amp;quot; (physically, I&amp;nbsp;feel like a muddy, watered-down version of her), and &amp;quot;what am I missing&amp;quot; and &amp;quot;will I be enough?&amp;quot; I was interested too, but if at some point in time I don't come off that way, will I be replaced? I thought maybe by God's grace I'd feel more confident in myself somehow, but I&amp;nbsp;wonder if I'm confusing confidence with apathy towards the matter .&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:76657</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/76657.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=76657"/>
    <title>0045</title>
    <published>2009-01-27T07:11:07Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-30T18:31:23Z</updated>
    <category term="flickr photos"/>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="padding: 3px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3230860164/"&gt;&lt;img alt="" style="border: 0px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3469/3230860164_e405d3ef42.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 3px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3230860164/"&gt;0045&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/lindsaykathryn/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;diving into the wreck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;There was hope for Job like a cut down tree,&lt;br /&gt;I hope that there's such hope for me ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:76486</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/76486.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=76486"/>
    <title>i gotz the urge.</title>
    <published>2009-01-27T06:21:32Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-27T18:06:50Z</updated>
    <category term="interesting finds"/>
    <content type="html">So, I don't have a Facebook anymore and I don't go on my MySpace much (I'd delete it right away if I didn't have so many messages I wanted to keep). You know those status updates on Facebook though ... well, it's silly of me but I miss those. If my Facebook could only be totally private with the exception of my status then I'd keep it, but I recently discovered &lt;a href="http://twitter.com/lindsaykathryn"&gt;Twitter&lt;/a&gt; not too long ago and decided that if ever I have the urge, I'll just update on that. It's probably not very interesting for other people to look at, but it's fun for me to see what I've decided is important enough to post about (in 140 characters or less).&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:76253</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/76253.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=76253"/>
    <title>0044</title>
    <published>2009-01-27T05:04:03Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-27T06:54:40Z</updated>
    <category term="flickr photos"/>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="padding: 3px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3230845662/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3392/3230845662_1cc6939e25.jpg" style="border: 0px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3230845662/"&gt;0044&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/lindsaykathryn/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;diving into the wreck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: xx-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;two roads converge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:75973</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/75973.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=75973"/>
    <title>I'm worried today will be difficult.</title>
    <published>2009-01-26T13:40:03Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-26T13:47:29Z</updated>
    <content type="html">And I&amp;nbsp;fear the questions: Is it because I'm not pretty enough? Or interesting/smart/adventurous enough? Or just &lt;em&gt;enough&lt;/em&gt;? Maybe it will turn out to be the opposite. This is where God grants me a thicker piece of confidence than I hold in my possession now. Is my heart broken? Is it being mended? I pray my heart is healed, that it stays its vibrant red but stronger and not hardened.&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:75651</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/75651.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=75651"/>
    <title>0039</title>
    <published>2009-01-25T03:35:17Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-27T06:29:55Z</updated>
    <category term="flickr photos"/>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="padding: 3px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3223593529/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3260/3223593529_a67675c782.jpg" style="border: 0px solid rgb(0, 0, 0);" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3223593529/"&gt;0039&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/lindsaykathryn/"&gt;diving into the wreck&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:75052</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/75052.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=75052"/>
    <title>I can't throw a damn baseball.</title>
    <published>2009-01-21T03:47:41Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-27T06:30:51Z</updated>
    <category term="ramblings"/>
    <content type="html">I used to be able to. I was pretty good at it in high school actually. There are other things I can't do anymore. I can't pick up a tune on the piano. I don't try, I guess, but I never &lt;em&gt;used&lt;/em&gt; to try either. I'm nineteen years old. I'm supposed to be getting better at things, but it feels like everything keeps slipping out of my grasp. I have to plan what it is I'm going to create. I'm no longer spontaneous. Things aren't easy like they were.&lt;br /&gt;I used to get really nervous around people, and I'd blush so badly that it actually hurt. That doesn't happen anymore, but I find myself so racked internally at times when I'm around people that I lose the ability to do most everything (or, at least, that's what it feels like). In the next couple of days I'm going to be meeting with someone I haven't seen in years. When we were together, I&amp;nbsp;was constantly blushing and my stomach always hurt/tickled. I think I've grown up enough in certain ways that those things will be pretty avoidable, but I still wonder what is it about someone that could do that to me? And I wonder why I still freak out emotionally, mentally and physically around certain people? Am I really so lacking in self-confidence that what I feel other people must think determines what I do, even when I am alone? Damn it, I feel I must be crazy.&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:secretmanifesto:73914</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/73914.html"/>
    <link rel="self" type="text/xml" href="http://secretmanifesto.livejournal.com/data/atom/?itemid=73914"/>
    <title>0030</title>
    <published>2009-01-12T05:13:45Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-12T05:17:20Z</updated>
    <category term="flickr photos"/>
    <content type="html">&lt;div style="padding: 3px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3189786407/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3359/3189786407_45dd92eee5.jpg" style="border: 0px solid rgb(5, 0, 0);" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 3px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindsaykathryn/3189786407/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;0030&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/lindsaykathryn/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;diving into the wreck&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="margin-top: 0px;"&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 3px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;... because I miss Christmas and sugar cookies are HELLA&amp;nbsp;DELICIOUS.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content>
  </entry>
</feed>
