<?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-4760159101892043351</id><updated>2011-07-08T02:57:11.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>andies blog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></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-4760159101892043351.post-2476448438856376484</id><published>2010-07-09T21:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T21:35:12.583-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; color: rgb(68, 68, 68); line-height: 19px; "&gt;Its funny how people change when they walk away from something, like it doesn’t matter, or worse, like it never did. For some people pretending and carrying on as if nothing is wrong is easy, but for most of us it’s the hardest thing we could ever be asked to do. It’s not fair when we are expected to forget about our past as if it was nothing. We are told to move on, let it go but at the end of the day it’s not that simple, and it’s frustrating when people tell us that it won’t matter in 10 years, because it will; Every experience, every mistake, changes and moulds us into the person we WILL be, so yes what happens today does count for tomorrow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-2476448438856376484?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/2476448438856376484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=2476448438856376484' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/2476448438856376484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/2476448438856376484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2010/07/its-funny-how-people-change-when-they.html' title=''/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-3035631684064322775</id><published>2010-07-09T21:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T21:24:44.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;I find it quite amusing how we always anticipate the negative things in life, yet we are still so shocked when they finally hit us. We are constantly asking for someone to give us a break, and let us live our lives happily and care free but it's never the case when love gets involved, because a heart never breaks evenly and that is a pain that can &lt;span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; "&gt;never be justified. Although love may be our biggest weakness, it is also our greatest strength and I think many of us take it for granted and don't realise what it is until it's gone. I once heard that love always finds it's way, but I doubt that, love can be lost, and if lucky it can also be retrieved. For those who deserve it, I hope it comes back to you.&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/4760159101892043351-3035631684064322775?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/3035631684064322775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=3035631684064322775' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/3035631684064322775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/3035631684064322775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2010/07/i-find-it-quite-amusing-how-we-always.html' title=''/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-6408940194606146497</id><published>2010-07-09T21:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T21:24:08.304-07:00</updated><title type='text'>df</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt; I'm sorry, I'm sorry if I was ever inconsiderate or harsh, I know you have issues and I should have been more understanding, but remember I have issues too. Every time something good comes into life, it always seems to disappear, people that I care about always end up walking out on me, so really I just wait for it and start freaking out when I feel like it's slipping. I know that you didn't leave because of me, and I don't really ever expect to know why you did leave, but I understand that you had to, I was only really upset because you gave me no closure and I was worried. I care about you a lot, and not just as my boyfriend but as my friend. After you moved to Nambour and I saw you in a different way, like you didn't want me to touch you or even talk to you, I had to think about whether you were the type of person I really wanted to be with and it turns out, I do want to be with you. And though it would be hard on my part, I believe that there's always a way to make things work if you really want them to, but that means you have to want it to work as well. All I ever want to be in your life, is one thing that you can be happy about, because you need balance, so that through the good and bad times you still have something to smile about, and if that's not me, and if being with me is going to cause problems in your life then by all means, leave now, but if not and you do have feelings for me then why not stay and try? I don't want to con you or make you feel sorry for me so that you stick around, I would rather honesty, even when it hurts. I don't believe you lead me on, because I know you meant what you said those few weeks we were together before you moved, I know you have other priorities and things to worry about in your life, and please don't feel pressured by me that you have to change all that to please me because that's not what I'm about. I just want to be happy and make you happy, but I know that no one can be happy with someone else, if they aren't happy with themselves first. So I hope this time away has given you the space you need to think about whats going to be good for you in your life, and what's hurting you, and please know I'm not here to try and make your life harder, I am not Kiani and all I would ever ask from you is trust, loyalty and honesty in all circumstances. If you've decided to leave me, I understand, I know that having a girlfriend can sometimes be a burden especially when you've had as many bad experiences in past relationships as we both have. Please don't think I'm angry at you if your choice is to walk away, I will be upset and it will take time for me to get over it but in the end I'll be fine, I have been through this before. But if you're choice is to stay with me then thank you, and I promise my intentions are never to hurt you but only to be something that makes you happy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-6408940194606146497?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/6408940194606146497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=6408940194606146497' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/6408940194606146497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/6408940194606146497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2010/07/df.html' title='df'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-3805919439949628417</id><published>2010-05-02T06:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T07:01:43.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>End.</title><content type='html'>Why are we always setting ourselves up to get hurt? I mean, I went through so much with me ex, two years of just constant pain and rejection and mind games, yet I still kept waiting to go back to him, even though I knew how it would end each time. Then again, everything ends one day, so why should we bother with anything when you think about it? Even if you find someone, marry them, and spend the rest of your life with them...Your life still has to end one day, no matter how much you love someone, unconditionally and irrevocably, you will leave them one day if Death doesn't decide to take them first. And who really wants to go through that pain? It hurts enough to break up with our high school boyfriend/girlfriend let alone someone we've spent most of our lives with. How is that in any way fair? I guess we don't think about that when we look for happiness or love, we don't think about the ending, or the beginning, we just think about the moments in between, the memories that will be shared, and I guess we are lucky in the way that we are able to hold onto memories, because after the real things gone, which it will be someday, memories are all we will have left to look back on and feel good about. We are blessed to fall in love, cursed to have our hearts broken, blessed to hold find "the one", and cursed to have to inevitably say goodbye, though we are always blessed, even in death, to share the memories.&lt;div&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/4760159101892043351-3805919439949628417?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/3805919439949628417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=3805919439949628417' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/3805919439949628417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/3805919439949628417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2010/05/end.html' title='End.'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-4303337881626595076</id><published>2010-04-30T00:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T00:19:38.681-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Secrets spilled, lies told,&lt;div&gt;rumors spread and stories unfold.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Disowning family and backstabbing friends,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I swear the drama never ends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-4303337881626595076?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/4303337881626595076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=4303337881626595076' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/4303337881626595076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/4303337881626595076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2010/04/secrets-spilled-lies-told-rumors-spread.html' title=''/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-2648980130312714301</id><published>2010-04-24T18:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T18:18:51.468-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>Why does the past always have to come back to ruin the present? You're finally ready to move onto something new and the past comes back and slaps you in the face, why? Because life is cruel. Don't tell me there's a reason for everything, if so, show me a fucking reason, cause I see none. All I see is unjustified pain. Don't tell me this all won't matter in 10 years from now because it will. Are you trying to tell me that all the people that committed suicide won't matter by then? Or the scars on my wrist are going to disappear? What about our broken hearts, are they going to rekindle themselves? Are we just going to forget? Nobody really deals with their pain, they just hold it in until its deep enough inside that we can ignore it, but it's always there, it never fades and sure it may get easier to deal with but we will never truly let it go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-2648980130312714301?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/2648980130312714301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=2648980130312714301' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/2648980130312714301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/2648980130312714301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2010/04/blog-post.html' title='.'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-2702629970320411749</id><published>2010-04-22T00:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T00:19:33.898-07:00</updated><title type='text'>congratulations, I hate you</title><content type='html'>I hope one day you wake up and realise. I hope that when you're alone because everybody is sick of you, I hope you remember me, remember that I put up with every one of your flaws. Remember that I always forgave you, I would have done anything for you, remember that no one will love you as much as I DID. You used to be everything I lived for, now you're everything I hate. You're just an immature little boy who doesn't know when he's crossed the line. Congratulations, I hate you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-2702629970320411749?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/2702629970320411749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=2702629970320411749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/2702629970320411749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/2702629970320411749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2010/04/congratulations-i-hate-you.html' title='congratulations, I hate you'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-1875963534357411984</id><published>2010-04-22T00:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T00:11:27.119-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm sick of crying, &lt;div&gt;I'm done trying.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fuck this pain,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;it will always be the same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm just angry because I should have known,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;now again I'll have to be alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I know it's meant to be,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and that's okay with me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There's nothing I can do to change the past,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just wish it didn't come back all so fast.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/4760159101892043351-1875963534357411984?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/1875963534357411984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=1875963534357411984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/1875963534357411984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/1875963534357411984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2010/04/im-sick-of-crying-im-done-trying.html' title=''/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-7576232119485858438</id><published>2010-04-22T00:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T00:05:27.778-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Past.</title><content type='html'>Why does the past always have to come back to ruin the present? I put my past behind me and another interferes. It has taken me so long to move on and so why, when I'm finally ready to be happy again, why does it all fall apart? There's just no reason for the amount of pain I keep getting put through. I never fucked anybody around, I never cheated, I never hurt anyone, so why am I constantly being left alone? I should have known, I should have anticipated, every time something good comes a long it always gets ripped out from underneath me, but why now, I was so close, this isn't fair. I'm done trying to be happy, why bother when I know it's not going to last, now I have to go back to the unhappy, lonely girl I was before all this, because it's all I'll ever be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-7576232119485858438?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/7576232119485858438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=7576232119485858438' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/7576232119485858438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/7576232119485858438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2010/04/past.html' title='Past.'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-6240948761723555673</id><published>2010-04-21T04:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T04:55:44.459-07:00</updated><title type='text'>daddies little girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;For years I waited for you to come home, but you never did. I was always daddies little girl, now all of a sudden I'm all grown up and you don't know where the years went. You hear me crying in my room and you don't understand why, maybe it's all the years you missed, all the years you weren't there for me, all the years you left me, all the years you weren't my dad. You and mum weren't there to teach me how to deal with my problems, you weren't even there to teach me how to tie my shoe laces, or read and write. I had to teach myself all these things and now I've taught myself not to care, not to care if you're disappointed in me, if you get angry at me or when you yell at me because what does it matter? You weren't there to teach me so I had to learn myself, so every mistake I make, reflects back on you. I'm not your little girl anymore, you don't know me at all and you have no one to blame but yourself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-6240948761723555673?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/6240948761723555673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=6240948761723555673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/6240948761723555673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/6240948761723555673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2010/04/daddies-little-girl.html' title='daddies little girl'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-1341746266486709735</id><published>2010-04-21T04:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T04:40:10.603-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally</title><content type='html'>Finally after all these years, I have the strength to say I'm over you, I hate you, I don't want anything to do with you. Because it has taken me this long to realise how immature you are, how much you've changed and now I wonder why I wasted my time and tears on you. It just makes me laugh to think about all the hurt I felt over you. I'm proud to say that I've learnt from our relationship, and I've grown from all the immature bullshit between us and I have moved on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-1341746266486709735?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/1341746266486709735/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=1341746266486709735' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/1341746266486709735'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/1341746266486709735'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2010/04/finally.html' title='Finally'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-296859580447599221</id><published>2010-01-18T20:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T20:24:17.039-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Done with you.</title><content type='html'>If you want to stay than stay, but if you want to go than just go, but if you're leaving now, please don't come back, I don't have the strength to say no to you. I love you, but I don't love you enough to keep hurting myself. I would cry for you, die for you, lie for you, protect you, wait for you, but I will no longer hurt OVER you. I'm done with you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-296859580447599221?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/296859580447599221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=296859580447599221' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/296859580447599221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/296859580447599221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2010/01/done-with-you.html' title='Done with you.'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-6687186161905276209</id><published>2010-01-18T20:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T20:15:41.827-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't want to pretend,&lt;br /&gt;but I don't want this to to end.&lt;br /&gt;Keep up the pre-tense,&lt;br /&gt;as I try for this to make sense.&lt;br /&gt;I don't love you,&lt;br /&gt;but I want to try to.&lt;br /&gt;But maybe my heart won't let me,&lt;br /&gt;and I'll remain empty.&lt;br /&gt;I have no love left in my heart,&lt;br /&gt;after always being torn apart.&lt;br /&gt;I think it's time to cry,&lt;br /&gt;fuck I hate this part,&lt;br /&gt;well, goodbye.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-6687186161905276209?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/6687186161905276209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=6687186161905276209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/6687186161905276209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/6687186161905276209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-dont-want-to-pretend-but-i-dont-want.html' title=''/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-134158357481153181</id><published>2009-11-07T20:58:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-07T21:04:13.593-08:00</updated><title type='text'>.</title><content type='html'>Before you judge me, why don't you take a long, hard look in the mirror and hopefull you'll realize that we aren't all that different. We all make mistakes and we all learn from them, but then why are my mistakes being used against me as if they diminish my credibility or something? Just because I don't think like you, or act like you, or talk like you, why does that give you the right to treat me like the dirt you walk on? I am still a human being, and as much as you don't seem to care, I do have feelings but no one has any consideration anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-134158357481153181?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/134158357481153181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=134158357481153181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/134158357481153181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/134158357481153181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-post.html' title='.'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-1451131045277552320</id><published>2009-10-06T03:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T03:46:40.293-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't forget but I have a tendancy to forgive everyone. I pretend like nothing phases me, I sit by and watch everything break down on the floor right infront of me and laugh like it doesn't matter. I don't get over things easy, I just push them away to minimize the amount of problems in my life but they always come back up sooner or later. I try to avoid drama as best I can and only seek the good things but they always blow up in my face. Like the devil in disguise and he follows me everywhere, turning my dreams into my worst nightmares.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-1451131045277552320?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/1451131045277552320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=1451131045277552320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/1451131045277552320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/1451131045277552320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-dont-forget-but-i-have-tendancy-to.html' title=''/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-4616721591203291354</id><published>2009-07-19T01:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-24T18:21:26.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>CAN'T</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="text"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could make you remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything you used to feel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could turn everything back&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nd love you the way I could&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you would say you still love me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as you used to0&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could be her, the one lying in your arms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I sit here crying again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could erase your memories&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and stop the rivers falling from my eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could hear you call my “baby”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and kiss me like you used to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish the pain would stop completely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I would never have to cry&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It can’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish you meant the things you said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime you said you love me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You didn’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish the blood would stop pouring&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From this open wound I have&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It can’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could make life end&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I didn’t have to think of you with her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could blame you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For evrythyng that I did wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loving you is like breathing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I want it to stop&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can’t&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-4616721591203291354?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/4616721591203291354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=4616721591203291354' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/4616721591203291354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/4616721591203291354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2009/07/cant.html' title='CAN&apos;T'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-4202227512421311520</id><published>2009-04-05T23:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T23:36:24.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>?</title><content type='html'>In a world of change nothing which comes stays and nothing which goes is lost forever.&lt;br /&gt;They say if you love something, let it go, if it comes back to you it was always yours, if it doesn't it never was...So what if it comes back again and again and again. But each time it finds new excuse to leave again. Was it always yours, and will it come back this time? &lt;span class="nametext"&gt;Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-4202227512421311520?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/4202227512421311520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=4202227512421311520' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/4202227512421311520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/4202227512421311520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2009/04/blog-post.html' title='?'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-2505249970621771536</id><published>2009-03-13T22:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T23:00:42.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Moments.</title><content type='html'>In one moment you can change your life, someone elses life, you can even change the world. It only takes a moment to ruin something,  in another moment everything falls apart, for a few moments your trying to catch everything, and in another moment it's gone. In a moment everything you tried so hard to get has slipped right through your fingers, and it only takes a moment to realize what you've lost. It takes more than a moment to get everything the way it was, chances are it probably will never be the same. It takes more than a moment to learn the strategies of life. It takes more than a moment to live your life, it takes more than a moment to find happiness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-2505249970621771536?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/2505249970621771536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=2505249970621771536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/2505249970621771536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/2505249970621771536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2009/03/moments.html' title='Moments.'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-5412438355692771904</id><published>2009-01-06T18:38:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T18:38:39.709-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ha</title><content type='html'>Close my eyes, pretend its all a dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stare out the frosted window of life, try to decipher the distorted picture of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is a puzzle and you are the missing piece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Broken heart and a fractured spine, damn that knife was sharp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't think pain like this existed farther than imagination.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lost in my own mind, leaving my train of thought behind me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year has gone, and recent events have aspired to change me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you can hear me, but you don't want to listen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you can see me, but you don't want to look any deeper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you know, but you don't want to understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'd forgive all your mistakes, if you'd only forgive mine,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd give the world to hear you say, I love you one last time&lt;/strong&gt;♥&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to run away, but I won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to hide, but I won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to give up, but I won't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-5412438355692771904?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/5412438355692771904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=5412438355692771904' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/5412438355692771904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/5412438355692771904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2009/01/ha.html' title='Ha'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-2906287458584349762</id><published>2009-01-04T09:59:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T09:59:15.257-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Call me a bitch cause I speak what's on my mind. Guess it's easier for you to swallow if I sat and smiled. When a female fires back suddenly the big talker don't know how to act, so you do what every person would do, making up a few false rumors or two. Slandering names for popularity. It's sad you only get your fame through controversy, so sad but it's time for me to come and give you more to say. So what am I not supposed to say what I'm saying? Are you offended by the message I'm bringing? Call me whatever cause your words don't mean a thing. If you look back in history its a common double standard of society the guy gets all the glory the more he can score while the girl can do the same but yet you call her a whore. I don't understand why its okay while the guy can get away with it. Here's something I just can't understand, if a guy have 3 girls then he's the man, he can even give her some head or sex her raw but if a girl do the same then she's a whore but the tables are about to turn, I bet my fame on it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-2906287458584349762?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/2906287458584349762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=2906287458584349762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/2906287458584349762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/2906287458584349762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2009/01/call-me-bitch-cause-i-speak-whats-on-my.html' title=''/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-1913467598745708805</id><published>2009-01-03T23:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T23:17:18.892-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanted to let you know</title><content type='html'>I wanted to let you know, before someone else tells you, and I'd rather you hear it honest, and from me. That I still, have feelings for you, actually, that's a bit of an understatement, I still, love you. But I don't care, I don't care that you don't care, I don't care if your with someone else, I don't care that you don't love me, I don't care that you don't like me, I don't care that you hate me. I know that we only hate the people that were once close enough to our hearts that gave them the power to hurt us, and I know that I was close enough to hurt you so much that you hate me now, at least I can hold onto that; that I was once close to your heart. But to know that I hurt you, it kills me, even if I didn't mean to, and I'm really sorry, but I guess, you'll never know how much you hurt me, even if you didn't mean to. I guess all that's left to say is, thanks for the memories, and I will hold onto them, because in a world full of change, it looks like they are the only things that don't, although sometimes I wish they did, maybe they would turn out a better present and future. Ha, I guess I'll stick to my dreams. Its silly that after all this time I'm still hoping that something will get through to you and make you come back to me, but I know its not going to happen, and I accept that. I hate this part; Goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The End.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-1913467598745708805?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/1913467598745708805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=1913467598745708805' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/1913467598745708805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/1913467598745708805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2009/01/wanted-to-let-you-know.html' title='Wanted to let you know'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-4128479821855033555</id><published>2009-01-03T09:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T09:37:25.980-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't know</title><content type='html'>Under all my flaws, heartbreak, pain and tears, I promise you that there is a part of me worth keeping, but only if you'll stick around to find it in me yourself. I would very much like a boyfriend; a serious relationship, but all the guys my age are immature with the emotional wager of a teaspoon, and the older guys are all alcoholics, going to parties every night, getting smashed and having sex with the easiest female. Honestly. Not to mention their lack of sensitivity. Guys, you complain that you hate Edward Cullen, a fictional character which all the girls, &lt;em&gt;your&lt;/em&gt; girls seem to love, instead of complaining, why don't you take some example from his character, fictional or not, he is still the perfect boyfriend, and then all the girls would be after you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-4128479821855033555?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/4128479821855033555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=4128479821855033555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/4128479821855033555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/4128479821855033555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-dont-know.html' title='I don&apos;t know'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-3193435476950925536</id><published>2008-12-31T23:55:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T23:55:44.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New year</title><content type='html'>A year has now passed, and it all seems to have gone by too quick. Now we wish we would have slowed down, embraced every moment, taking in every experience, but also remembering how quickly we wanted it to end. Now we look back and regret, and in our heads we rethink everything we ever did, every choice, mistake or decision that affected our lives, and how we could have done it differently. We over analyze and obsess over a tiny fraction in our lives, and realize how much of a difference each choice makes in our life every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to wake up in the mornings and look forward to the day ahead of me, not knowing what mysteries today brings, but knowing I always had &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; to look forward to. Now when I close my eyes, I don't want to wake up. Everyone has a reason to live, but do we have a reason to die too? Or is that being greedy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one stage in life, we will definitely fall, break, lose, disappoint, and sometimes, we don't think we have the strength to go through another day, because if the reason we're living for, suddenly disappears, is that a good enough reason to die? If the only reason we have the strength to wake up in the morning and face the world, if that reason disappears, what do we do next? Please tell me, because I don't know why I'm still here anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They say with the new year, comes another chance to start over, does that mean we can forget? I wish we could. I wish second chances were literal, I wish that people would understand, and I wish that you, you would see me, for the different person that I am, not for who I was. Like I said, with the new year, doesn't come a new life, the meaning is as literal as its name, "A new year", and thats all it is, no new life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-3193435476950925536?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/3193435476950925536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=3193435476950925536' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/3193435476950925536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/3193435476950925536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2008/12/new-year.html' title='New year'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-9066946227929834110</id><published>2008-12-26T20:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T20:29:41.027-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I now have to get over the obsessing fact that I'm going on, living without you. Its been months - a year now - and I still can't get my head around the idea that after everything we promised, I ended up alone. I've missed you, a lot, though each day it gets easier. You have given me the reason I'm living today, yet the reason why at some point I wanted to end my life. I want you to always be happy, really I do, and as for me, I'll get there someday. I'll hold onto the memories because in a world full of change, they are the only things that don't, something that I am almost unwilling to accept, but there's no way around it. You can't change the past. I'm coming into terms with my reality, and its getting easier to accept each day, and the reality is, your not here, and nothing I can do will make you come back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-9066946227929834110?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/9066946227929834110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=9066946227929834110' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/9066946227929834110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/9066946227929834110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-now-have-to-get-over-obsessing-fact.html' title=''/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-1631204074795480589</id><published>2008-12-26T20:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T20:24:17.832-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A year has passed</title><content type='html'>A year has now passed, it seems like its all gone by too quick, and we wish we had made the most of our time embracing what we now consider our best memories, but remembering that there was a point where we wanted it to be over as quick as possible. To move quickly through our lives, but before we know it our time will have run out and we wish we would have slowed down, taking our time, embracing every moment, but by then it will be too late. Our lives will slowly wither away along with our skin as age takes it toll on us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-1631204074795480589?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/1631204074795480589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=1631204074795480589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/1631204074795480589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/1631204074795480589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2008/12/year-has-passed.html' title='A year has passed'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-7421915545411983487</id><published>2008-12-22T08:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T08:47:12.923-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Obsession</title><content type='html'>"I love you", it doesn't sound like much, not much effort in saying those 3 simple words, but trust me, there's effort to mean them. Its funny how people change when they walk away from something, like it never even mattered, or worse like it never happened. Its so stupid that I voluntarily attempt to wait for you, even though I know your not coming. And its stupid that after all this time, a part of me is still trying to get through to you, I &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;must&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; love you. But enough of this stupid obsession I have of keeping you in my life, I'll keep you in my memories, because they are the only things that don't change. Love is stupid, cruel, a nerving, torturous, difficult, but yet we find ourselves completely obsessed with the subject it protests; happiness and to share it with someone else. Love is calm, comforting, warm, patient, kind, and yet we come to a point where we want to give up on love because we forget what its worth. With the pain, comes the happiness we all search for. With love, comes happiness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-7421915545411983487?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/7421915545411983487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=7421915545411983487' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/7421915545411983487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/7421915545411983487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2008/12/obesession.html' title='Obsession'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-745807421127574934</id><published>2008-12-22T08:11:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T08:28:33.393-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The night of my life, the night you left, the night the end began.</title><content type='html'>It was a brutal stabbing pain, unbearable, I was barely managing. I was holding back a lot more tears, although I was still hysterical. You just stood there and watched me, then I guess you couldn't take it anymore, you walked over and pulled me into your arms. At first I left my arms to droop lifelessly, but then it came to mind that this might be the last time I ever held you. I wrapped my arms tightly around your neck, but not nearly as tight as you were holding me. You held me close, tight, secure, like you weren't ever going to see me again, I hoped to God that wasn't true. You held me like you didn't - didn't plan on ever letting me go, I liked it, but I knew I had to do something. I pulled away, you released me keeping your hands on my waist, clenching my t-shirt in your fists. I looked into your deep, blue, dazzling eyes for a moment before looking down. I tried to fight back more tears, my throat burned as my tears began to blur my vision. You nudged your head against mine, and pulled me back closer. This time I didn't hug you back, my arms were curled up into your chest, my head rested on your neck, you held me so close, I was so warm. I could feel and hear your heart beat, it was slow, loud, and somehow calming, I felt like I was drifting asleep. I could feel your eyelashes on my shoulder, I whispered just loud enough for him to hear me, "You promised." You blinked, and a warm tear spilled down my back, and then another, your eyelashes were wet, then you blinked again, but you didn't re - open your eyes. You whispered something I couldn't clearly hear, but I heard the last 3 words, "I love you", I don't know if you intended for me to hear, and what part you wanted me to hear, but I heard that, it was comforting, but at the same time unsettling. You pushed me away gently and walked out the door, I fell to my knees, I didn't have the strength to keep myself up anymore, I knew it was over, but it wasn't the ending I was wanting, hoping for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-745807421127574934?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/745807421127574934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=745807421127574934' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/745807421127574934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/745807421127574934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2008/12/night-of-my-life-night-you-left-night.html' title='The night of my life, the night you left, the night the end began.'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-5684480471280802841</id><published>2008-12-22T08:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T08:11:25.992-08:00</updated><title type='text'>irony</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Go away, I want to be alone!" I shouted, the irony of it is, that as I finished my sentence, I realized that I was going to indeed be alone for a very long time.&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/4760159101892043351-5684480471280802841?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/5684480471280802841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=5684480471280802841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/5684480471280802841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/5684480471280802841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2008/12/irony.html' title='irony'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-1558560272542898886</id><published>2008-12-22T08:03:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T08:03:39.882-08:00</updated><title type='text'>about me</title><content type='html'>I have a tendency to over express myself, over share my problems, and speak my mind too much. I find myself constantly wondering in endless circles, unintentionally ending up where I first started. In this cold world, bustling with madness, with a pen in my hand and paper in front of me, the world gets kinda quiet. I escape into the words as my pens ink spills onto my paper, and my thoughts escape. I get caught up in my mind and I tend to trip on my thoughts as the pressure to be perfect implodes. When I fight for something I find it hard to let it go or simply walk away. I have recently inherited the issue of who I trust, after everything, its a wonder I haven't isolated myself. I get all worked up, and stressed easily, I'm recklessly emotional, and sensitive. I don't drink, I don't smoke, I swear, but no ones perfect. I'm a Christian and I love God, but the bible isn't my rule book, its my guide book, I have my own morals.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-1558560272542898886?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/1558560272542898886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=1558560272542898886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/1558560272542898886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/1558560272542898886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2008/12/about-me.html' title='about me'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-2619851172515971313</id><published>2008-12-14T06:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-14T06:47:44.265-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Please</title><content type='html'>I know I can do this without him, I've gotten this far, but being here seems all so pointless without him here with me. You promised me happiness and the only time I've ever felt complete was with him. I know he's gone, and it hurts real bad, I still think about him everyday, just not as much. I won't deny my love for him, or how much I miss him. Why does it have to be so hard, don't you think I've been away from him enough, I've learned my lessons, and accepted everything, please bring him back to me, please. You know how much it would mean to me, how much it would put me in your favor. Yes I guess you could say I'm trying to bribe you, I guess I feel as though there's nothing else I can do, and I want him back badly. I hold onto my memories like they were just yesterday, because they are the only things that don't change, and in hopes that someday there might be an "us" again. I love him, and there is nothing you can do to make me change my mind, or suddenly forget, even if he's forgotten now, I haven't and I won't, and unless you do something now this pain will keep growing inside of me and I will break, and I'll eventually lose all faith in you, me, everything. Please do something, I can keep going on without him, but I don't want to. After everything you at least owe me that, and I promise I will remain faithful for all my life.&lt;br /&gt;Iloveyou&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-2619851172515971313?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/2619851172515971313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=2619851172515971313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/2619851172515971313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/2619851172515971313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2008/12/please.html' title='Please'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-7005974300020696803</id><published>2008-12-10T06:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T07:18:56.665-08:00</updated><title type='text'>you</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="text"&gt;You walked away, but yet i stayed,&lt;br /&gt;I waited for you, but you had nothing to say.&lt;br /&gt;You left me there drowning in my tears,&lt;br /&gt;all because you couldn't face your fears.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want your apology, pity or sorrow,&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to tell you, cause you need to know,&lt;br /&gt;that I hate you now and I don't care,&lt;br /&gt;because you put me through hell, and you left me there.&lt;br /&gt;Do you remember, or do you forget,&lt;br /&gt;when you said that you'd never regret?&lt;br /&gt;As far as I'm concerned, I don't regret you,&lt;br /&gt;I just regret everything you lead me to.&lt;br /&gt;Why do you pretend? Everything you've denied?&lt;br /&gt;I swear I will show you what its like to die inside.&lt;br /&gt;Why should I be the one to say sorry,&lt;br /&gt;when your the one who hurt me without a worry?&lt;br /&gt;You got life easy, family and friends that appreciate you,&lt;br /&gt;and everything you gave me, you took away from me too.&lt;br /&gt;Once a upon a time, when this love story started,&lt;br /&gt;I never thought I would end up so broken hearted&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-7005974300020696803?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/7005974300020696803/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=7005974300020696803' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/7005974300020696803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/7005974300020696803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2008/12/you.html' title='you'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-7631643430995106007</id><published>2008-11-30T02:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T02:48:06.513-08:00</updated><title type='text'>don't expect perfection</title><content type='html'>You know, you say that you didn't know me long enough, to know that I was "drama queen", but you haven't known her long enough, to see her bad side either. Everyone has good and bad in them, its if, how and when you choose to see it. You have to take the good with the bad, its all or nothing, love it for who it is, not what it isn't. Don't expect perfection, your believing a lie. No ones perfect, and I was just another girl to prove that to you, but you can keep trying to find the right one, there will never be someone as perfect as you want them to be, sometimes its okay to settle for less.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-7631643430995106007?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/7631643430995106007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=7631643430995106007' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/7631643430995106007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/7631643430995106007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2008/11/dont-expect-perfection.html' title='don&apos;t expect perfection'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-2672365988162424777</id><published>2008-11-30T02:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T02:46:26.057-08:00</updated><title type='text'>lifes a bitch</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, when I go to sleep at night, I don't want to wake up in the morning. Dreaming is what I wait for because its the only time when reality isn't true, and I can escape this world. There was a time in my life, when I can say that I was truly happy, but now that time has passed, and like everyone else, I have to move on. I don't understand how time goes on so quickly, yet I'm still where I was 3 years ago. I'm holding onto my best memories, because I guess its the only thing that doesn't change. Its funny how people change when they walk away from something, like it never even mattered, or like it never happened. I've learned, that most people aren't as happy as they make themselves out to be, they just aren't as open and honest about it as I am. I'm not an "attention seeker", I just don't care to pretend. I'm not a "drama queen", I'm just emotional. Its not the mistakes we make that make us a good or bad  person, its how we choose to learn from them that determines what type of person we are. You know, some people don't even have the luxury of complaining, but that won't stop us, every day without care, we always have something to complain about. We are all hypocrites. Lifes a bitch, haha. I've been through a lot, but I'm still standing, I'm hurt, and I'm not okay, but I know I will be, I'm honestly over complaining.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-2672365988162424777?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/2672365988162424777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=2672365988162424777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/2672365988162424777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/2672365988162424777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2008/11/lifes-bitch.html' title='lifes a bitch'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-1666969596739542541</id><published>2008-11-28T09:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T09:50:23.553-08:00</updated><title type='text'>it will be okay; hopefully</title><content type='html'>To Amanda from morgan:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hopefully everything will work out, hopefully it works out in the best way possible, in the best way that it can so we can be the best people WE can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so we can once again be happy, back to where we were free and in love, where waking up to the that one person we truly loved would be the best thing in the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the ocassional one or two boys may come along but in the end who is it you see, who is it you dream of? its that boy you always had from the start, the only one that can make these and all of your problems seek through the cracks and go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the meanwhile waiting is the hardest part, and the easiest seems to never come, but its out there hiding, like you said love hides and until it comes out you and me have to show them, show love, show eveyone we are waiting, waiting without any doubt. just remember be strong as will i.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you amanda&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To morgan from amanda:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be okay, it's going to be okay,&lt;br /&gt;take my hand and breathe with me, and listen to my song, it's going to be okay.&lt;br /&gt;Trust me babey girl and dream, remember nothing is what it seems.&lt;br /&gt;Soon everything will be okay, even though now he has nothing to say.&lt;br /&gt;When it all falls down together, remember you've still got forever.&lt;br /&gt;i love you morgannnnnnnnn&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-1666969596739542541?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/1666969596739542541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=1666969596739542541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/1666969596739542541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/1666969596739542541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2008/11/it-will-be-okay-hopefully.html' title='it will be okay; hopefully'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-5381537867511758403</id><published>2008-11-25T03:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T03:36:33.422-08:00</updated><title type='text'>beauty from pain</title><content type='html'>You don't know me. One mistake means nothing, its how i choose to fix it, or learn from it that really matters. Why regret, you can't change the past. Why plan, they never work out anyways. Why complain if your not going to do anything about it, your problems will soon become a mute to the ears around you. If all your going to say is "i wish", "i hate", "i love", shutup, i don't want to hear it. Everyone gets hurt, at least once and a while, some more so than others, but i guess thats just a part of life, and a part of being in love. We all hurt, some hide it, some cry it, some tell it, some show it, me, i write it, i dance it, i sing it. I know all this is worth it, all the tears, all the heart break, all the pain. What doesn't kill me, will only make me stronger. After all this has passed, and i've cried my last, there will be beauty from pain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-5381537867511758403?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/5381537867511758403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=5381537867511758403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/5381537867511758403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/5381537867511758403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2008/11/beauty-from-pain.html' title='beauty from pain'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-178579634788577769</id><published>2008-11-23T16:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-25T06:55:36.253-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Help yourself</title><content type='html'>I hate the way they all look at life, intent of destroying their own. This world is falling apart, and no one even cares to do anything about it. Girls complain about their bodies, yet don't do anything about it. They all roam around complaining they are too "restricted", yet when they get their freedom, they wish that someone cared. Girls steal each others boyfriends, guys play girls. The teenagers of today, forget purpose, meaning and cause. They do things for the thrill, adrenanline, experience, not worrying about tomorrows consequences. Hopefully it will hit you one day, that you can't get away with everything, and someday you'll have to admit your wrong. If you ever expect to live a happy life, you have to earn it. You can't sit around, dreaming of the perfect life, if you never expect to help yourself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-178579634788577769?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/178579634788577769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=178579634788577769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/178579634788577769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/178579634788577769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-hate-way-they-all-look-at-life-intent.html' title='Help yourself'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4760159101892043351.post-8362449849308199823</id><published>2008-11-20T18:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-20T19:01:05.636-08:00</updated><title type='text'>teenage world</title><content type='html'>I straighten my hair, i wear makeup, but I'm not fake. I bitch about people when they've done something wrong to upset me, but I'm not a bitch. I have had a tone of boyfriends, but I'm not a slut. Jokes turn into lies, thoughts turn into rumors, laughter turns into tears, love turns into hate, admiration turns into envy, friends turn into enemies. Sex becomes a hobby, alcohol becomes a friend, and drugs become our life. The teenage world is such a dangerous and confusing place. Supposed to set an example your leading the next generation into everyone's wrost nightmare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our generation now, no one wants to run the country, we all want to live in a free world, with no rules, and no expectations. But a world like that would surely be destroyed. No one understands the meaning of responsibility, and thats why there are so many rules to obide by. But it seems the more rules, the more rebelious teenagers feel a need to disobey those rules and cause havock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ridiculous.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4760159101892043351-8362449849308199823?l=andieappietto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/feeds/8362449849308199823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4760159101892043351&amp;postID=8362449849308199823' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/8362449849308199823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4760159101892043351/posts/default/8362449849308199823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andieappietto.blogspot.com/2008/11/teenage-world.html' title='teenage world'/><author><name>andie appietto</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04344626897610828057</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/_dPeDQZssBvQ/SURvizb6GnI/AAAAAAAAABM/XaMJc-MfC3s/S220/l_70790fc8f9704b2c9f4923171d979ce4.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
