<?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-26690161</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:48:15.226-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Name</title><subtitle type='html'>The Fine Line Between Unorthodoxy and Senseless Drivel</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluidconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26690161/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluidconcept.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>No Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07932320965247205131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='31' src='http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g85/blair_boardman/184ee17c.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26690161.post-114775476877647777</id><published>2006-05-15T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-15T21:48:00.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'>9th Grade Poetry</title><content type='html'>This is just some random poetry I wrote in 9th grade for an Honors English Class… The one about Homer is referring to the Greek slave that wrote the Iliad, not Homer Simpson…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Cinquain-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sparks&lt;br /&gt;Molten tears&lt;br /&gt;Flashing, shining, burning&lt;br /&gt;Smoldering like fallen stars&lt;br /&gt;Embers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Limerick-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Homer&lt;br /&gt;Now poetry’s all about grace,&lt;br /&gt;It should flow without leaving a trace,&lt;br /&gt;But Homer was violent,&lt;br /&gt;He should have kept silent,&lt;br /&gt;But instead he was speared in the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Haiku-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silk&lt;br /&gt;Flowing so softly,&lt;br /&gt;Criminally smooth and fine&lt;br /&gt;The spider’s thin thread&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26690161-114775476877647777?l=fluidconcept.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluidconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/114775476877647777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26690161&amp;postID=114775476877647777' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26690161/posts/default/114775476877647777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26690161/posts/default/114775476877647777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluidconcept.blogspot.com/2006/05/9th-grade-poetry.html' title='9th Grade Poetry'/><author><name>No Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07932320965247205131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='31' src='http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g85/blair_boardman/184ee17c.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26690161.post-114706573045897490</id><published>2006-05-07T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-05-07T22:22:10.566-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Petals</title><content type='html'>This is just some experimental poetry. I was in the mood and I thought I would post some. Call it what you like, whether that means stupid, gay, cool, whatever… I call it “Petals”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So much of life can be contained in the metaphor of a flower.&lt;br /&gt;When you look at a flower, what do you see?&lt;br /&gt;Is it a pretty plant?&lt;br /&gt;Or is it something more?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flowers are free and o so fare,&lt;br /&gt;But do they bend in the wind without a thought or care?&lt;br /&gt;They arrange themselves with petals bright and new,&lt;br /&gt;Just as we dress ourselves in attractive hue,&lt;br /&gt;But does our image matter,&lt;br /&gt;That we use our looks to simply flatter?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot see beyond what I put in front of my face,&lt;br /&gt;As I reach out into the sun and the sky’s infinite space&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I arrange with petals fare, or am I withered and dry,&lt;br /&gt;And if dry, would rain be my sympathy or a sweet goodbye?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do these petals matter, with their bright colors and scents that ensare?&lt;br /&gt;Why is it a goal for which the human race would strive and dare?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no crime in looks, nor in sweet smells, nor soft petals too,&lt;br /&gt;But do we sacrifice in vain and kill our roots in what we do?&lt;br /&gt;When the heavy rains come, do we stand proud with arms to the heavens?&lt;br /&gt;Does it matter whether our petals come in pairs of sixes or sevens?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is time to look beyond the garden of the shallow,&lt;br /&gt;Rather take a trip to the sweeter side of earth&lt;br /&gt;The one that has long lain fallow&lt;br /&gt;For there you’ll find a second birth&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From skin to mind&lt;br /&gt;A new creation undefined&lt;br /&gt;With petals that glow like the midday sun in the midst of night&lt;br /&gt;But only grow if one is planted right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the question we’re left with is neither red nor blue&lt;br /&gt;But rather do you find your petals true?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26690161-114706573045897490?l=fluidconcept.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluidconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/114706573045897490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26690161&amp;postID=114706573045897490' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26690161/posts/default/114706573045897490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26690161/posts/default/114706573045897490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluidconcept.blogspot.com/2006/05/petals.html' title='Petals'/><author><name>No Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07932320965247205131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='31' src='http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g85/blair_boardman/184ee17c.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26690161.post-114617360248663909</id><published>2006-04-27T13:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-27T14:33:22.613-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time: The Universal Fun-Sucker</title><content type='html'>Alright, well this is my first post, so this is kinda experimental. My past experience with blogs was an ugly thing that involved a lot of emo venting and negative postulating, so if I start to do either of those, slap me. Or if you'd rather inform me that my blog is rubbish in a more civil and dignified manner, simply send me a comment or tell me in person. Anyways, here goes nothing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time. It is everywhere around us, always ticking, always moving. Time does not wait for unfinished projects, second glances, a goodbye kiss, etc. Time does not wait at all. The universal truth of the matter is that "time waits for no man". And that sucks, a lot. But, unfortunately, there is nothing we can do about it. We must pick one of two options. One, we can continue to forever be locked in an epic struggle with time, which of course we will lose. Or, we have a second option. We can choose to accept our circumstances and work with them as best as we can. While I often choose the former of the two, I find that the latter works much better for an overall happier and more fulfilling existence. I often recycle the thought that time is a wretched menace that deserves a good beating (if it were possible to actually beat), preferably with some kind of club with splinters or nails in it. But what I've only just now begun to realize is that time is a good thing, and should be embraced. I think of it much like a river, a mighty torrent that you cannot cross or swim upstream. You can only struggle and slowly lose ground, or you can go with the flow and have a good time. When you have your back turned against the future, you will never be able to see the pitfalls, the crushing cataracts, or the hidden rocks with ruthless intent and submerged hostility. When you think if it like that, it is much easier to face one's destiny and go with the flow. Who knows? You might even enjoy yourself along the way... &lt;br /&gt;Time still is and always be a touchy subject for me, but my belief, until otherwise convinced, is that time should be greeted as an old friend, one you might have quarrels with from time to time(no pun intended), but at the end of the day you will still be more than just acquaintances. We really have it better than we know, because life on this earth is so bittersweet. We complain about how little time we have to do what we want, but in reality that is exactly what makes life so sweet. We have an enjoyable moment, and we savor it, because inside we know we may never be able to enjoy that moment again; that at any instant, our fragile lives might be ripped from the prodigious and labyrinthine fabric that is our world. We savor the moments that we know will never come again, and we wallow in our joy just as fully as we do in our sorrow. Thus our existence on earth is made that much sweeter and more real, because we're just passing through, a single grain of sand in the colossal hourglass, a drop in the roaring ocean of time. The clarity of this revelation is achieved from looking back on past experiences, because hindsight is twenty/twenty. The point I want to conclude with is this: no matter how you spin it, time will always be against us, so long as we fight it. But if we choose to accept our limitations, we can achieve so much joy and happiness, provided that we want it and are willing to pursue it.&lt;br /&gt;Joy is yours for the taking, not across the river and not up it; joy IS the river. Accept, embrace, live. That is all for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26690161-114617360248663909?l=fluidconcept.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluidconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/114617360248663909/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26690161&amp;postID=114617360248663909' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26690161/posts/default/114617360248663909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26690161/posts/default/114617360248663909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluidconcept.blogspot.com/2006/04/time-universal-fun-sucker.html' title='Time: The Universal Fun-Sucker'/><author><name>No Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07932320965247205131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='31' src='http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g85/blair_boardman/184ee17c.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26690161.post-114565479887323139</id><published>2006-04-21T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-04-21T14:26:38.880-07:00</updated><title type='text'>test</title><content type='html'>test&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/26690161-114565479887323139?l=fluidconcept.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fluidconcept.blogspot.com/feeds/114565479887323139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=26690161&amp;postID=114565479887323139' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26690161/posts/default/114565479887323139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/26690161/posts/default/114565479887323139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fluidconcept.blogspot.com/2006/04/test.html' title='test'/><author><name>No Name</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07932320965247205131</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='33' height='31' src='http://i54.photobucket.com/albums/g85/blair_boardman/184ee17c.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
