<?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-5258542323974904308</id><updated>2012-02-16T20:09:29.827-08:00</updated><category term='Paris'/><title type='text'>Happy Home</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>248</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-2400598798429241294</id><published>2012-02-15T16:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-15T16:15:38.417-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Bazı insanlar var, çok özel bir yerleri var.&lt;br /&gt;Hele bir tanesi var benim için, bugün, kalbimi ne kadar kırabildiğini gördüm ilk defa.&lt;br /&gt;Ne kadar derinmiş aslında yeri dedim. Bilmediğimden değildi. Birtanecikti zaten benim için. Yeri kimse ile değişilemezdi. Bugün, asla karşılaşmayacağımı sandığım bir haliyle yüzleşmem gerekti. Korkuttu beni o hali. Bana yapmamalıydı onu. Beni tanımalıydı. Beni tanıyor olmalıydı. Beni tüm o diğerleriyle aynı rafa koymamalıydı. Benim onu kırmamdan korkuyor olamazdı. En el üstünde tuttuğum adam, bunu beklememeliydi benden.&lt;br /&gt;Onun gözünden, o haliyle, kendimi görmek o kadar üzücüydü ki. Beni sanki "yanlış tanımış" gibi davranması, hatta neredeyse tanımıyormuş gibi davranması, beraber geçirdiğimiz bunca yıl hiç yokmuş kadar kızabilmesi, sinirlendiği şeyin de bu denli saçma bir şey olması, iyi niyetimi görememesi, daha doğrusu iyi niyetimi bilmesine rağmen, tam tersine de olanak vermesi bile...&lt;br /&gt;Halbuki ben, onun başından geçenler çok sıradan olmasına rağmen ne kadar etkilendiğini fark ettiğim için, tekrar onu yaralayacak bir şey yapmamak için özen gösterdim hep. Kasıtlı olarak zaten asla yapmazdım ama onun zaafları, hassas olduğu noktalar benimkilerden çok daha fazlaydı. Ben farkında bile olmayarak onu kırabilirdim. Ama onun bana olan güvenine de güveniyordum bir yandan, benden beklememeliydi, yıllar bunu ona kanıtlamış olmalıydı, her ne kadar geçen zaman çok değerli bir şey olmasa da...&lt;br /&gt;Gayet masum ve iyi niyetli bir şakanın buralara geleceğini nasıl düşünebilirdim ki? Şaka işte! Şaka. Gözlerinden alev fışkırmasına nasıl sebep olabilirdi ki?&lt;br /&gt;Daha önce bunu yaşadığını defalarca görmüştüm. Egosuna basıldığında ne kadar aşırı tepki verdiğini, kendinden ne kadar taviz vermediğini, çünkü insanlara içini gösterirse onu kıracaklarını düşündüğünü, saçma da olsa, yaşadığı şeylere bağlandığında, haklı denebilecek bir savunma mekanizması geliştirdiğini biliyordum. Bunu ona hiçbir zaman yakıştıramadım. Benim gözümde, bunları aşması gereken biriydi. Çünkü çok akıllıydı ve aynı zamanda çok içten bir insandı. Kendisindeki bu saçmalığı görmesi gerekmez miydi? Ben bunu ona söylemenin haddime olmadığını düşündüm hep - ta ki ucu bana da dokunana kadar.&lt;br /&gt;Uyanması lazım! Yakışmıyor ona böyle yapmak, böyle ego oyunlarına gelmek, bunun bu kadar farkında olmamak. "Ben" diye etrafa sunduğu şeyi abartıyor.&lt;br /&gt;Üstelik ben de o yoldan geçtim. Onun kadar olmasa da, ben de öyleydim. Kendim diye anlattığım şeyleri ben zannedip dururdum. "Ben şöyleyim ben böyleyim" cümlelerinden nefret etmezdim şimdiki gibi. Egomu kendim zannederdim. Sonra kafama bir balyoz düştü ve ayıldım. Balyoz çok canımı yaktı tabii ama beni de o ağır uykudan ancak bir balyoz uyandırabilirdi. Kimseye "ben"i kanıtlamak durumunda olmadığını anladım yıllar içinde. Bütün aptallıklarımı, zaaflarımı, çirkin yönlerimi, saçmalıklarımı kabul edip, barıştım onlarla, hala da barışıyorum. Ve her geçen gün, kendimi daha hafif hissediyorum.&lt;br /&gt;Aynısını o da yaşasın istiyorum. Çok daha fazla potansiyeli var çünkü. Tanıdığım nadir güvenilir, samimi, akıllı, parlak zekalı insanlardan.&lt;br /&gt;Bunu çok ama çok içten diliyorum, umarım uyanır.&lt;br /&gt;Çünkü hayatı çok zor olacak eğer böyle devam ederse. Çok daha fazla kalbi kırılacak, çok insanı üzecek, çok kaybedecek ve kendini tanıyamamış bir insan olarak kalacak.&lt;br /&gt;Lütfen uyansın.&lt;br /&gt;Ben onu çok çok seviyorum, hep etrafımda olsun istiyorum. O da çok iyi olsun istiyorum, istediği her şey olsun, hayatı çok güzel olsun istiyorum. Üzüntüleri kısa sürsün, mutlulukları kocaman olsun, zorlukları kolay halletsin istiyorum.&lt;br /&gt;Kendini kabul etsin istiyorum. Kendini sevsin - ama olduğu gibi. Çünkü benim sevdiğim çocuk onun gösterdiğinden çok daha içerlerde bir yerde ve çok daha masum aslında.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-2400598798429241294?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/2400598798429241294/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=2400598798429241294' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2400598798429241294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2400598798429241294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2012/02/baz-insanlar-var-cok-ozel-bir-yerleri.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-5288314189674284791</id><published>2012-02-02T17:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T17:52:57.947-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kim?</title><content type='html'>Kendimizi kabullenmeliyiz. &amp;nbsp;İnsan olarak, akıl bağımlısı olduğumuzu, aklın pisliğe yuva bir yer olduğunu, ve temiz varlıklar olmadığımızı kabullenmeli, bununla barışmalıyız. &lt;br /&gt;Ego dediğimiz şeyi kendimizden sürekli "egom", "egosu" vs diye ayırırken, aslında günlük yaşamımızda kendimize dair egodan başka bir şey bırakmıyoruz. &amp;nbsp;Her şeyimiz egomuz oluyor. &amp;nbsp;"Ben" dediğimiz her şey ondan ibaret aslında.&lt;br /&gt;Başka türlü bir yaşam mümkün mü? Değil. Sosyal bir varlık olarak bazı maskeleri takmak, bazı rollere bürünmek zorundayız. &amp;nbsp;Hiçkimse "kendi" olamaz, çünkü kimse aslında kim olduğunu bilmiyor. &amp;nbsp;Ne olduğumuzu biliyoruz sadece. &amp;nbsp;Adımızın ne olduğunu, neleri sevip neleri sevmediğimizi, nasıl birisi olduğumuzu biliyoruz. Bunların hiçbiri "kimim ben" sorusuna cevap değil.&lt;br /&gt;Fakat egomuzu o kadar benimsiyor, o kadar benimsiyoruz ki, ona toz konduramıyoruz. Malum biz egomuzdan ibaret zannediyoruz kendimizi. &lt;br /&gt;İnsan olarak ne kadar kompleksli bir varlık olduğumuzu hiç göremiyoruz. Acizliklerimizi kabul edemiyoruz. Kendimizi ıspatlama çabamızın bile bu acizlikten geldiğini göremiyoruz. İşin acıklısı, bunu gerçekten göremiyoruz, kendimize yapıştırdığımız etiketleri, hakkımızda söylenenleri biz zannetmeye başlayacak kadar iyi yalan söylüyoruz kendimize bilinçsizce.&lt;br /&gt;Fakat kabul etmek lazım, acizliği. &amp;nbsp;İğrenç komplekslerimiz olduğunu, başkalarının bizim hakkımızda ne düşündüğüne odaklı hayatlar yaşadığımızı, internet sayfalarında kendimizi ideal bir profil yaratıp öyle olduğumuzu zannettiğimizi, aklımızdan binbir türlü şey geçirdiğimizi ve bunların çoğunu kendimize bile itiraf edemediğimizi ve derinlerde bir yerlerde, en dobra, en kendi gibi olan insanın bile, ne kendinin, ne de başkalarının zannettiği o insan olmadığını, kabullenmeli, bunu insani bir şey olarak görmeli ve bununla barışmalıyız.&lt;br /&gt;Böylelikle bu saçma döngüyü kırabilecek bir boşluk elde edebiliriz belki. &amp;nbsp;Kendimiz olmaya biraz daha yaklaşırız, kendimizi sert bir şekilde eleştirebilirsek. &amp;nbsp;En acınası, en ezik, en aciz şeyi bile kendimize itiraf edebildiğimiz noktada bir şeyler değişiyor. Kolay bir şey değil. Hatta belki yapılabilecek en zor şeylerden biri. &amp;nbsp;Kendini iğrenç bir insan olarak görmek bir anda, o zannettiğin insan olmadığını fark etmek, yıllar yılı kendini "yanlış anladığını" fark etmek ve onun getirdiği yıkım kolay değil, ama sonra hayat pek güzel.&lt;br /&gt;"Ben şöyleyim, ben böyleyim" gibi cümleleri az kurmak lazım mesela. Bilmiyorsun ki kim olduğunu. Sırf burada, bu şartlar altında doğdun, böyle bir genetik kod ve böyle bir eğitim seni böyle birisi yaptı diye sen o olmuyorsun ki. &amp;nbsp;Sen mesela, İstanbul'da değil de, Anadolu'da 18 çocuklu bir ailede doğsaydın, okula gitmeseydin, dünyadan bir haber olsaydın, 15 yaşında evlendirilseydin, "Ben portakallı ördeğe bayılıyorum" ya da "Mini etek giymeyi severim" falan diyebilecek miydin? Diyemeyecektin. Peki sen orda büyüdün diye, başkası mı olacaktın? Yoo. Ama kendini anlat, sen kimsin deseler, en sevdiğim yemek portakallı ördek dersin laf arasında. Nasıl oluyor o?&lt;br /&gt;Kültürel bir varlıktan ötesi olmalıyız. Aynı kalacak, saf kalacak bir şeyler olmalı.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;İnsan hakikaten kendisini tanımadığını, ve saf bir varlık olmadığını, kompleksli olduğunu itiraf edebilince kendine, ve bununla barışıp, bunu kontrol altına almaya çalışınca, egosunun oyunlarına gelmemeye çalışınca, hayat çok farklı oluyor. &amp;nbsp;Çok başka tatlar oluyor. &amp;nbsp;En azından şundan eminim, başlanması gereken nokta bu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-5288314189674284791?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/5288314189674284791/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=5288314189674284791' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/5288314189674284791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/5288314189674284791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2012/02/kim.html' title='Kim?'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-6991183004710555874</id><published>2012-01-31T16:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-31T16:27:36.963-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Her taraf bembeyaz, pıtır pıtır karlar yağarken, kahveni alıp balkona çıkmak...&lt;br /&gt;O kahveye içerde, en sevdiğin kitabı okurken devam etmek...&lt;br /&gt;İzleyecek harika bir film bulmak, o an tam istediğin filmi bulmak...&lt;br /&gt;Her şey çok güzel.&lt;br /&gt;Ama eksik bir şeyler var.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-6991183004710555874?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/6991183004710555874/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=6991183004710555874' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6991183004710555874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6991183004710555874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2012/01/her-taraf-bembeyaz-ptr-ptr-karlar.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-6122819625330443230</id><published>2012-01-19T18:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T18:01:39.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I had a dream.&lt;br /&gt;I had a dream the night before, a dream I had a long time ago.&lt;br /&gt;I had built it upon what I'd felt&lt;br /&gt;Upon my memories.&lt;br /&gt;Then it vanished, for the memories faded.&lt;br /&gt;And now it is in flames again&lt;br /&gt;Reborn in my unconscious.&lt;br /&gt;I remembered.&lt;br /&gt;I remembered what it felt like to love and enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;I remembered and it hurt with pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;I remembered through that dream&lt;br /&gt;What I was missing.&lt;br /&gt;I remembered what I wanted to ask for.&lt;br /&gt;I remembered what I need.&lt;br /&gt;I remembered that feeling, that long gone feeling.&lt;br /&gt;I had forgotten it even existed&lt;br /&gt;I had forgotten I'd ever felt it.&lt;br /&gt;But it's there, out there, in the air, everyday.&lt;br /&gt;That excitement and that bliss.&lt;br /&gt;Pure happiness-&lt;br /&gt;That can be triggered through sight.&lt;br /&gt;To see someone&lt;br /&gt;Finally&lt;br /&gt;And hold them&lt;br /&gt;Like the first time&lt;br /&gt;And to know&lt;br /&gt;It's not the last&lt;br /&gt;And to believe&lt;br /&gt;They will never leave.&lt;br /&gt;I want that dream.&lt;br /&gt;I want that again.&lt;br /&gt;I want that feeling again.&lt;br /&gt;I just miss it.&lt;br /&gt;I'm missing it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-6122819625330443230?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/6122819625330443230/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=6122819625330443230' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6122819625330443230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6122819625330443230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-had-dream.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-1109906968837710739</id><published>2012-01-09T17:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T17:06:19.265-08:00</updated><title type='text'>çok özledim ben buraları.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iEijTzSU050/TwuKMq-7iNI/AAAAAAAAAEE/QjLXnwtnjpo/s1600/DSC_1314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iEijTzSU050/TwuKMq-7iNI/AAAAAAAAAEE/QjLXnwtnjpo/s320/DSC_1314.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PxFag_4kT5w/TwuKaLRwArI/AAAAAAAAAEM/vmoJrvKvTR4/s1600/DSC_1295.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="167" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PxFag_4kT5w/TwuKaLRwArI/AAAAAAAAAEM/vmoJrvKvTR4/s320/DSC_1295.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-obPy4VceqMA/TwuKw75RayI/AAAAAAAAAEU/QCUFHYzHQIM/s1600/DSC_1057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-obPy4VceqMA/TwuKw75RayI/AAAAAAAAAEU/QCUFHYzHQIM/s320/DSC_1057.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div 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class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-1109906968837710739?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/1109906968837710739/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=1109906968837710739' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1109906968837710739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1109906968837710739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2012/01/cok-ozledim-ben-buralar.html' title='çok özledim ben buraları.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iEijTzSU050/TwuKMq-7iNI/AAAAAAAAAEE/QjLXnwtnjpo/s72-c/DSC_1314.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-1102469612332194580</id><published>2012-01-07T18:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-07T18:18:37.295-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Erkekler, lütfen hayvan olmayın.</title><content type='html'>16 yaşıma geri dönüp erkeklere sesleneceğim bu yazımda çocuklar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sevgili erkekler,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lütfen hayvan olmayın. &amp;nbsp;Biz kızlar, &lt;i&gt;gerçekten de&lt;/i&gt; sizden daha narin yaratıklarız. Duygusal yakınlık aramıyor olsak bile bunun biraz bile olsa benzeri bir şeye, kendimizi meta gibi hissetmemeye, bir şeyler yaşanırken arada tatlılıklar, şirinlikler ve en önemlisi birazcık yapmacık olmayan bir samimiyete ihtiyacımız var. &lt;br /&gt;Biz kızlar (ben ve tanıdıklarım en azından), her karşımıza çıkan erkeğe "beyaz atlı prensim bu mu acaba?" gözü ile bakmıyoruz genelde (istisna: çok çok yakışıklı bulmadığımız sürece). &amp;nbsp;Sadece "takılmak" isteyebiliyoruz gayet. &amp;nbsp;Ama o takılmalar yapmacık olmasın istiyoruz. Çünkü her özgür kadının içinde bir yerlerde küçük veya büyük, bir feminist vardır. &amp;nbsp;Ben bağımsızım! Ben eşya değilim! Benim neyim eksik! gibi haklı ifadelerimiz, ve toplumun zorla empoze ettiği komplekslerimiz vardır. &amp;nbsp;Bu konularda hassasızdır ve buna saygı duymanızı bekleriz. &lt;br /&gt;Şimdi burada önemli olan konu ne biliyor musunuz? Bunu bize birey olarak değer verdiğiniz için değil, insanlık namına yapmalısınız. Yani birazcık kibar olmalısınız bazı durumlarda. &amp;nbsp;Merak etmeyin yani, yakınlaşırsak ve sohbet edersek 2 kelime, hemen "a kesin seviyooooo" tribine girmiyoruz. Biz mal değiliz çocuklar. Sadece daha nariniz ve kibarlık, en hayvani, içgüdüsel durumda bile biraz centilmenlik bekliyoruz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lütfen çocuklar, hayvan olmayın.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-1102469612332194580?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/1102469612332194580/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=1102469612332194580' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1102469612332194580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1102469612332194580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2012/01/erkekler-lutfen-hayvan-olmayn.html' title='Erkekler, lütfen hayvan olmayın.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-1458548639790899901</id><published>2011-12-03T14:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-03T14:44:16.113-08:00</updated><title type='text'>yazılarım politik olmaya başladı hakkaten.</title><content type='html'>Atatürk'ü tartışan insanları an-la-mı-yo-rum.&lt;br /&gt;Atatürk, sizlere, kendisini tartışma imkanı veren adam, ve siz hala, yok "Atatürk'ün yeryüzüne indirilmesi lazım", yok "diktatördü" yok bilmem ne. Ulan neyse ne, adam ne yaptıysa, ne hatası olduysa, bir şeyleri doğru yapmış ki, sen onun kurduğu cumhuriyette onun hakkında atıp tutabilecek kadar özgürsün. Her yerden kaldırdılar zaten adamı. Atatürk "abartılıyormuş". Ya bir yürü git allah aşkına. Sen bunu söyleyebilmeni bile o adama borçlusun nasıl bunu anlamıyorsun? Bugün ona karşı gelen herkes ona karşı gelebilmesini ona borçlu bir kere. Nasıl çarpıtılıyor her şey ya! Öyle bir konuşuluyor ki, Atatürk, tek adam, çok iyi durumdaki bir Osmanlı'yı yıkıvermiş pataküte, yerine cumhuriyet getirmiş çünkü halife karşıtıymış. Önce tarih bilmek lazım tabii. Bilmiyormuş gibi yapmaktan ziyade. Osmanlıya zaten Ankara ve çevresi göt kadar bir yer layık görülmüştü, sömürge sömürge yaşayacaktık. Adam kendi egosundan yeni bir düzen getirseydi cumhuriyet yerine imparatorluğa devam eder, kendisini de imparator yapardı. Yani demokrasi getiren bir diktatörden bahsediyoruz. Vay be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hala milattan önce yapılmış bir takım olayların (bkz. Dersim) tekrar tekrar ve tekrar gündeme getirilerek, kötü olayları baştan sona genelleyip, birtakım insanlara, cumhuriyete karşı karalama kampanyaları başlatılması dünyanın en büyük saçmalığıdır bence. Yahu sen Dersim'de olup bitmiş şeye bakacağına, gelip gündeme baksana. Eski solcuların bikbiklerini yiyorsun hala! "Eski solcu" ne ya? Nasıl oldu da şimdi sağın yalakalığını yapıyorlar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nedir bu "halkların kardeşliği" herkesin ağzında? Zaten kardeş değil miyiz? Daha ne olacak? Kardeşiz ki aynı devlet altında yaşıyoruz işte? Öldürmesinler o zaman askerlerimizi? Hani kardeştik? Kardeşiz diye biz de al al, bunları da öldür, hepsini öldüremedin, gel terör estir şehirlerimizde, kardeşiz, hakkındır mı diyelim? Bana ne senin annen baban nereli, hangi dili konuşuyorsun, önemi mi var? Hakkaten önemi yoksa, niye ben kendimi dilimi konuşacağım diye tutturuyorsun? Sen şimdi ırkçılık yapmıyor musun? Ben diyorum ki önemi yok, onu da konuş bunu da konuş, gel beraber aynı çatı altında yaşayalım yoksa insanlar ölecek, yazık onlara hepimiz kardeşiz diyorum, sen diyorsun ki yok ben kendi ülkemi isterim, insanlarını katledeceğim gerekirse (savaş ve terör arasındaki farka geliyoruz burda) sırf kendi bayrağım olsun diye de elimden geleni yapacağım türkler umrumda değil diyorsun. Şimdi burda ben faşist oluyorum, sen hakkını arayan hümanist oluyorsun? Bu nasıl bir şey? Bu "globalleşme" sempatizanı arkadaşlarım, madem "ülke", "sınır" vs önemsiz kavramlar, madem siz bunları aştınız (çünkü bütün dünya aştı, bi biz kaldık) o zaman niye onların da hakkı kendi ülkesini istemek? Niye o ırkçı değil de ben ırkçıyım kendi toprağımı savunmak istediğim, ve insanlar ölmesin istediğim için? Ben de biliyorum onların provoke edildiğini, kendi içinde mutlu mutlu yaşayan Kürtlerin bi kısmının böyle dertleri olmadığını. Ne yapalım yani? Onlar da kendi açılarından haklı diyip teröre göz mü yumayım? Abi doğru diyosun, burası senin toprağın al buraları dediğimde, susacaklarına inanacak kadar saf mı olayım? Bu mentalite işleseydi hukuk bambaşka temeller üzerine otururdu, bir insan hırsızsa, demek ki çocukken travma geçirmiş deyip hapishane yerine tımarhaneye kapatılırdı mesela? Teoriyle gerçeğin ayırdına bir varmak lazım. Evet, bunlar kısmen doğru şeyler ama, gerçek hayatta adalet olması gerekiyor bir şekilde. Çünkü biz insan ırkı, sizin zannettiğiniz kadar aşmadık. Nasıl bir pembe dünyada yaşıyorsunuz bilmiyorum ama, mesela anti-militarizm ileri değil, saçma bir şey aslında zira dünyanın en barışçıl, en tarafsız ülkelerinde bile (mesela Finlandiya) ordu var. Milli bilinç denen şey sizin zannettiğiniz gibi geri kafalılık veya demode bir şey değil, hala toplumların, ülkelerin, ayakta kalmasını sağlayan, temel taşlardan biri. Ha yarın öbür gün kalmayacak ortada "milli" ya da "hepimiz" falan, senin gibiler yüzünden, o zaman da "liberal" ayaklarına devam edersin. Sana da müstahak zaten. Ama kurunun yanında yaş da yanıyor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir tek Atatürk'e saygım kaldı. Bir tek onun için bu kadar vatansever olabiliyorum hala, ya da en azından birazcık duyarlı. Ona çok ayıp ettik diye üzülüyorum bir tek.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-1458548639790899901?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/1458548639790899901/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=1458548639790899901' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1458548639790899901'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1458548639790899901'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/12/yazlarm-politik-olmaya-baslad-hakkaten.html' title='yazılarım politik olmaya başladı hakkaten.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-1997812603695863712</id><published>2011-11-11T12:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T12:31:19.621-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Note to Self</title><content type='html'>+ Drink vanilla cappucino.&lt;br /&gt;+ See movies with a lot of beautiful outdoor sceneries.&lt;br /&gt;+ Enjoy wearing scarves.&lt;br /&gt;+ Read read read! And try not to be distracted by simply how happy you are.&lt;br /&gt;+ Make an "Autumn Playlist"&lt;br /&gt;+ Hang a work of art on your wall.&lt;br /&gt;+ Appreciate the beauty of the season.&lt;br /&gt;+ Study so that you won't feel bad about it later.&lt;br /&gt;+ Practice better time management.&lt;br /&gt;+ Take photos.&lt;br /&gt;+ Enjoy dim lights and cold weather and good music.&lt;br /&gt;+ Enjoy every single moment you have!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-1997812603695863712?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/1997812603695863712/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=1997812603695863712' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1997812603695863712'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1997812603695863712'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/11/note-to-self.html' title='Note to Self'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-478745090521002754</id><published>2011-10-29T04:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-29T04:05:02.635-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>İlk defa politik bir yazı yazacağım şuraya çünkü cumartesi sabahımın içine eden, kendimi sorgulamama sebep olan bir şeyler var.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bir zamanlar, herkes istediğini düşünebilirdi ama çoğu insan aynı bilinçteydi etrafımızda. Saygı duyduğumuz, yukarılarda tuttuğumuz, ilke edindiğimiz değerlerimiz vardı. Bunların konuşulmasına bile gerek yoktu, hepimiz bilirdik ne olduğunu. Çocukken böyleydi mesela.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O ortak değerler, ortak bir kültürün getirisiydi. Ortak bir eğitim alt yapısının, ortak bir bilincin. Cahilliğin şimdiki kadar hüküm sürmediği, bazı normların temellenmeye yeni yeni başladığı bir dönemdi bizim çocukluğumuz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Şimdi bakıyorum, herkes her şeyi düşünebiliyor diye, herkes farklı bir şey düşünüyor. Hoşgörü hoşgörü diye yanıp tutuşan arkadaşlarım, en az hoşgörüyü kendileri gösteriyorlar çünkü hoşgörüsüz olana hoşgörü göstermeyi bilemiyorlar. Her şeye daha kozmik bir perspektiften bakmaya çalışıp, bunların hepsi saçma diyen arkadaşlarım, işin ucunun onlara dokunduğunu bile fark edemeyecek kadar diplerindeki şeyi göremiyorlar aslında, büyük resim falan derken. Herkes egosunu kendisi diye sahiplendiği için, kimse haksız olduğu fikrini aklına bile getirmiyor. Görünürde "açık görüşlü" olan arkadaşlarım, aslında ufacık bir eleştiriyi bile kale alacak insanlar değiller. Kişisel bir eleştiri olsun hele, anında tırnaklar çıkıveriyor, o hoşgörü falan yok tabii ortada.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bu örnekleri sonsuza kadar devam ettirebilirim ama neden? Aslında sadece söylemek istediğim tek bir şey var: "ben şuyum ben buyum ben şöyleyim ben böyleyim"lerinizi bir kenara bırakın. &amp;nbsp;Ne sizin çok liberal olduğunuz, ne çok akıllı, ne çok kendine güvenli, ne çok yardımsever, ne bilmem ne...&lt;br /&gt;Bırakın ya bu lafları, bu imaları, bu özgüven eksikliklerini.&lt;br /&gt;Bireyden topluma, dünyaya kadar genelleyebileceğim tek çıkarım tüm bunlardan: gerçekten kimsenin kompleksi olmasın. Her şeyi bu kompleksler yapıyor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kürt kendi devleti yok diye komplekslerde, dinci, bunca zaman bastırıldı diye komplekslerde, bakanlar, milletvekilleri zaten koltuk kompleksinde, birey çoğunlukla marjinal olma derdinde ve zaten kompleksler içinde yüzdüğü için sürekli bir kendini kanıtlama çabası halinde. Hepimiz de böyleyiz işte. Hepimiz. Kendimizi aşmamız, egomuzu birazcık küçültmemiz lazım.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-478745090521002754?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/478745090521002754/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=478745090521002754' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/478745090521002754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/478745090521002754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/10/ilk-defa-politik-bir-yaz-yazacagm.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-7986283392483251587</id><published>2011-09-21T17:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-21T17:59:32.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The wind, the rain, the smell... Autumn came...&lt;br /&gt;And now everything feels new again. Somehow autumn came and away the darkness went. All my confusions, the chaos, the tears are taken away. The only mist, the only gloom are from the September air and they are not in my head. My mind is clear, refreshed. I need no solutions.&lt;br /&gt;I'm smiling at this confusing weather.&lt;br /&gt;How come all this time when it was so bright outside, I couldn't see? How come, summer wasn't good for me? How is it that the sun couldn't clear my thought and now the grey air feels so good...&lt;br /&gt;I'm filled with new found joy, new hopes, hungry for things I've not done before, new experiences, journeys, all that is new...&lt;br /&gt;The comfort in the familiar, which I have been holding onto for so long, doesn't matter that much anymore. &amp;nbsp;I feel more ready for change. I want "new".&lt;br /&gt;And I look back at the old, and I see that it's just recently old, I can still hear echoes and still remember dreams but they don't feel right anymore.&lt;br /&gt;After all I've witnessed, I can't dream the same dreams anymore. Something broke, something disconnected. I guess I found the truth and it didn't fit. I guess I felt the line between reality and dreams and I couldn't ignore it anymore. I felt it, with all my body and soul up to the point where it was undeniable that it existed.&lt;i&gt; Reality is bearable, now that I'm not trying to reach for the clouds.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The truth only hurts when you dream for more, so stop!&lt;br /&gt;It took me so much hurting to get here but I've finally arrived. I wish to move forward, far far away... A place where I can truly disconnect from my ghosts and feel joy. Feel light, feel happy...&lt;br /&gt;So I'm dreaming now, of a dream I don't recognize. A dream untouched, a dream perfect. I'm done trying to fix and adapt my old dreams, trying to come up with solutions to impossible problems before I can actually get there. I'll fall into a dream where everything is already set, where I won't have to make it look like what I want.&lt;br /&gt;You know how? I'll just dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-7986283392483251587?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/7986283392483251587/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=7986283392483251587' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7986283392483251587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7986283392483251587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/09/wind-rain-smell.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-3278488314305585198</id><published>2011-08-31T17:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-31T17:33:19.653-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Paris'/><title type='text'>L'aout.</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;If I was to die tonight, I would have no regrets.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;I would have no pain in my chest&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Nothing undone pushing upon, my body-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Peaceful, at rest.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;And this time has come at last.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Something profound is to arrive.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;And even if I die tonight,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;I'll die in a silent night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-3278488314305585198?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/3278488314305585198/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=3278488314305585198' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3278488314305585198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3278488314305585198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/08/laout.html' title='L&apos;aout.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-2859834950685035698</id><published>2011-08-29T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T15:27:17.596-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>Excuse me because I have not found&lt;br /&gt;A place that I can call mine&lt;br /&gt;Anything that belongs to me&lt;br /&gt;Or "me" for that account.&lt;br /&gt;Yet again, I own up to my dreams so much,&lt;br /&gt;Make them mine and mine only and consequently&lt;br /&gt;I leave you out of them without noticing.&lt;br /&gt;They are not supposed to me mine and mine only-&lt;br /&gt;Maybe that's why I soliloquize all my fantasies.&lt;br /&gt;And maybe that's why they are never shared&lt;br /&gt;By that one person I have images of in my head.&lt;br /&gt;I try to make them happen but all I do is in my head.&lt;br /&gt;I live in a fantasy world and even there I'm just content.&lt;br /&gt;I think of the worse and settle for the mediocre.&lt;br /&gt;So I never get what I really need.&lt;br /&gt;All my life I have taught myself&lt;br /&gt;To be pleasant and content.&lt;br /&gt;Never did I really know&lt;br /&gt;How it is to fly over the clouds.&lt;br /&gt;It is not that I want continuity for eternity&lt;br /&gt;Or that I ask for more than I am entitled to.&lt;br /&gt;But I think by now I've deserved&lt;br /&gt;A sense of mutual love or two.&lt;br /&gt;Not that I want any more than just one-&lt;br /&gt;But I've never felt such a love.&lt;br /&gt;And sometimes I fear at night&lt;br /&gt;That I will come to the end of my life&lt;br /&gt;And say that I have spent it on&lt;br /&gt;Working on dreams in my head&lt;br /&gt;Building an imaginary life&lt;br /&gt;And never having it at all.&lt;br /&gt;So I fear so much these things will happen&lt;br /&gt;Yet only so little is in my hands&lt;br /&gt;There are things that I am capable&lt;br /&gt;But such a little space they cover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet I shock myself when I look upon&lt;br /&gt;And see that I've not lost the hope.&lt;br /&gt;Though I don't know now where I feed it from&lt;br /&gt;I have never been less ready to let it go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-2859834950685035698?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/2859834950685035698/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=2859834950685035698' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2859834950685035698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2859834950685035698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/08/blog-post.html' title='...'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-2538711892593142974</id><published>2011-08-23T09:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T09:33:05.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bonjour!</title><content type='html'>Bonjour from Paris! Aradan sadece 7 ay geçtikten sonra tekrar bir Paris yazısında beraberiz sevgili okurlar (kim okuyorsa).&lt;br /&gt;Bir kere Paris'te üşümemek bir garip. Hatta şu an yanıyor burası. O kadar kazak mazak getirdim yağmur yağıyor diye, yağmadı. Sadece bir kere yağdı o da ben yurda yürürken yağdı, donuma kadar ıslandım gerçek anlamda. Aynısını geçen hafta İstanbul'da da yaşadığımdan hiç değilse Paris burası diye şükrettim.&lt;br /&gt;Dili pek konuşamamak acı ya burda. &amp;nbsp;Konuşsam, bi de düzgün konuşsam iyice anlamayacaklar turist olduğumu. Turistik, souvenir satan yerlere giriyorum "Mademoiselle, Fransız mısınız?" diye şaşırarak bakıyorlar. Zaten bütün Fransızlar tatilde, sırf turistler burda. Hepsi de turistim ben diye bağırıyor beyaz spor ayakkabılarıyla ve şaşkın bakışlarıyla. Bizim Türk tayfası bayadır burda olduğundan bi "buraları ben yarattım" havası var tabii :D Hatta dün yol bile tarif ettim çekik gözlü bir hanfendiye. Hadi o turist, yerli de yer soruyor anasını satayım. Her gün birkaç kere maruz kalıyorum buna.&lt;br /&gt;Fransızlar İngilizce konuşmuyor yalanını da artık çürütmek istiyorum gerçekten. KONUŞUYORLAR ABİ! Hatta bazen sen Fransızca konuşucam diye kıçını yırtarken, bunu fark edip direk gülümseyip İngilizce de devam edebiliyorlar. Gıcığı yok mu? Of, hem de nasıl. Ama ben onlara sadece "soğuk" diyip, saygı duyuyorum. Cıvık olmalarından iyidir. Ne bileyim burda hiçbir şey batmıyor bana. &amp;nbsp;Aman da İstanbul gibisi yok falan diyemeyeceğim. Hiç özlemedim.&lt;br /&gt;Ha, her şey çok pahalı. Gerçekten. Para nasıl bitiyor anlamıyorsun. Bir de sürekli İstanbul'da arayıp bulamadığım şeylere rastlıyorum, alıyorum, e para bitiyor. &amp;nbsp;Hediye gidiyor bir de. Hediye vermek dünyanın en eğlenceli şeylerinden biri bence.&lt;br /&gt;Paris'e giden, gidecek olan herkese önerim, Musee d'Orsay ve Musee Rodin'i bir görün. Notre Dame, St. Michel veee bu seferki keşfim olan ve daha önce niye burayı bulamadım ben diye kendime lanet ettiğim Bastille ve La Marais bölgesi!!! La Marais, pazar günü gidilecek en mantıklı yer. Fazla turistik değil, sokak müzisyenleri oluyor, cafeler sokaklar acayip güzel. Karışık bir yer ama biz Kadıköy çocuğuyuz yaaaani. &amp;nbsp;Notre Dame'ın tam karşısındaki Shakespeare &amp;amp; Co.'ya gitmeden kitapçıları seviyorum da demeyin. &amp;nbsp;Orası bir kitapçı değil, orası ayrı bir dünya. Geçen sefer de bu sefer de, her gün gidiyorum. Gidiyorum bi kitap alıyorum, kapısında oturuyorum, yukarı çıkıp piyano çalıyorum hayranlar kazanıyorum bu şekilde hatta. Bir İngiliz Edebiyatı öğrencisi olarak bana ekstra cennet orası tabii.&lt;br /&gt;Mont Souris diye bir parka da gittik orası da medeniyetin böyle yoğunlaşıp ortaya konduğu yer gibi. Çıplak gez kimse bakmayacak. En çok orada kendimi evimde hissettim çünkü okulumun çimen kültürü var. &amp;nbsp;Çimenlerde yattığım herhangi bir anda, çok Türkiye'de hissediyorum kendimi :D&lt;br /&gt;Evet bu yazıyı şu an burada noktalayacağım çünkü yeni Kadıköy'ümüz olan, hatta evimiz bellediğimiz St. Michel'de, Paris'teki en ucuz ve en doyurucu 3-course-yemeği yemeye gidiyoruz. Menu: Soğan çorbası, portakallı ördek ve patates, ve tart tatin. Sözlerimde hiçbir elitizm olmadan söylüyorum ki; hayatımda yediğim en güzel yemek. Kim yese aynı tepkiyi veriyor. 3 gündür orda yiyoruz abi. Mükemmel bir şey ya. Bitmesin diye dua ederek yiyorsun yani.&lt;br /&gt;Heycanlandım. Gidip yiyelim şunu hadi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-2538711892593142974?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/2538711892593142974/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=2538711892593142974' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2538711892593142974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2538711892593142974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/08/bonjour.html' title='Bonjour!'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-9124434462511666167</id><published>2011-08-01T16:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-01T16:25:06.536-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Oh dear Mr. Rochester,&lt;br /&gt;I wonder whether you are aware or not, of the situation you have put me in - the void I've been given to fill- an effort so in vain that makes everything else seem like a piece of cake.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-9124434462511666167?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/9124434462511666167/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=9124434462511666167' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/9124434462511666167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/9124434462511666167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/08/oh-dear-mr.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-6812038468629319159</id><published>2011-07-05T11:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T11:46:55.345-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Waves</title><content type='html'>What a wild sea! What dreams it inspires.&lt;br /&gt;Waves, they feel like they are pulling and pushing me.&lt;br /&gt;Bringing you to me and then taking you away.&lt;br /&gt;So smooth, - getting me used to your absence&lt;br /&gt;Meditating- doesn't feel like a battle.&lt;br /&gt;The sound of water, how could it bring bad news?&lt;br /&gt;How could this tranquility lead to chaos?&lt;br /&gt;The dreams in my head slowly transcend&lt;br /&gt;Fly into the air though they can't be seen,&lt;br /&gt;I know somewhere, hang my wishes&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere hidden, to be fulfilled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh waves, they break the silence.&lt;br /&gt;Thank god they silence my head.&lt;br /&gt;And I might somewhere find a better end&lt;br /&gt;Going through this ocean and the depth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-6812038468629319159?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/6812038468629319159/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=6812038468629319159' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6812038468629319159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6812038468629319159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/07/waves.html' title='Waves'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-8439465943654016659</id><published>2011-06-28T13:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-28T13:58:55.868-07:00</updated><title type='text'>goodbye</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;I knew I would say this one day but it surprised me to be able to say it so soon: I've had enough.&amp;nbsp; This is the day that I can really say it, mean it and apply it to my life. I am tired of trying to decipher your signals, trying to understand what you mean to say, trying trying and getting nowhere. Now I don't care. I won't try to understand you any more. I'm missing out on my life while trying to do so, and it's getting me nowhere. Goodbye. Really. Goodbye.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-8439465943654016659?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/8439465943654016659/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=8439465943654016659' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8439465943654016659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8439465943654016659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/06/goodbye.html' title='goodbye'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-59911960264480711</id><published>2011-06-26T08:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-26T08:46:03.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>heartbreak</title><content type='html'>Heartbreak.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone goes through it, every single soul that has set foot on this earth has. &amp;nbsp;Do you realize what a universal concept it is? &amp;nbsp;Maybe even felt by more people than those who have experienced love.&lt;br /&gt;The pain of it-we all know. It cannot be helped. But no one goes through life without this ache of heartbreak.&lt;br /&gt;The way we deal with it differs though. Anger, regret and more anger- it seems to be the most common.&lt;br /&gt;But what good does it do? It doesn't help us heal, it can't be built upon, it only hurts you more, yet we find it hard to let go of this anger. &amp;nbsp;The truth of the matter is, if we could only take a step back and see the bigger picture, we would see that there is nothing to be angry about. &amp;nbsp;"Why is this happening to me?" is the most idiotic question to ask. &amp;nbsp;No one is ever the only one going through the same. There is nothing special about you, just deal with it. It is just the natural course of time and yet we condemn heartbreak and fear the pain so much that oftentimes, regret makes us miss out on life. &amp;nbsp;We turn out to settle for contentment, live lives that don't satisfy us emotionally, settle for a linear ordinariness.&lt;br /&gt;But if only we could make peace with heartbreak- learn from it, recover from it and grow stronger. &amp;nbsp;So what if it hurts? It is selfish to turn it into anger because you can always fool yourself to believe there is someone to blame- be it you or someone else. &amp;nbsp;Thank god we make mistakes -thank god we learn. &amp;nbsp;What if we had never aches in our lives, how could we enjoy happiness then? &amp;nbsp;Just make peace with the pain, you might even turn out to love it one day. What an intense, distinctive state of being! &amp;nbsp;How often do we really feel our hearts after all? You are learning to mend yourself, you are learning to heal and love yourself because it is such a powerful feeling-the pain- that everything else comes secondary. Your main object of thought is you- you dive into the depths of your soul, discovering unconsciously in the process of trying to heal. &amp;nbsp;How little we would know about ourselves had we not experienced sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;So just make peace with your pain, love it - cause nothing tells you more about yourself - more about the universe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-59911960264480711?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/59911960264480711/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=59911960264480711' title='2 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/59911960264480711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/59911960264480711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/06/heartbreak.html' title='heartbreak'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-311373061135494425</id><published>2011-06-25T16:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-25T16:41:22.990-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"I love you"</title><content type='html'>"I love you"... What a waste of words it seems, when they come out of her mouth. &amp;nbsp;What a degradation of the feeling it is supposed to express. &amp;nbsp;Saddening, how the meaning has been diminished to the random, as though she were in love with her pencil. &amp;nbsp;That is the kind of love everyone recognizes as the love. &amp;nbsp;That is as far as their heart can go, as deep as they have the guts to feel- and it is not deep. &amp;nbsp;So shallow a feeling that is indeed the same as loving your pencil. &amp;nbsp;It is your ego, it is your earthly desire, it is your greed and the base desire of possessing, containing. &amp;nbsp;Having as much as you can and never losing. &amp;nbsp;It is not love. Not the love that is worth saying "I love you" for. &amp;nbsp;Please, just don't reduce these things to your capacity, please, everyone.&lt;br /&gt;Because there is, as impossible as it may seem, there is a kind of pure love. Unselfish, pure, compassionate love. &amp;nbsp;There is a kind of love where love comes before you. &amp;nbsp;Love defines not only your well being but your being completely. &amp;nbsp;A kind of love so pure, that it changes you only for the better even when it hurts so much. &amp;nbsp;A kind of love, so unbelievable that you love the feeling you carry inside you even when it gives you pain and you love that feeling inside you so much that you can't let it go even then. &amp;nbsp;Because it is the purest thing you have ever felt - you hold onto it. &amp;nbsp;You don't want to let go of the innocence you think you had lost when you first called something "yours"- when you first met your ego. Hello. I am the voice inside your head that will keep eating you alive all your life. &amp;nbsp;But then comes the innocence of babyhood - how you don't know. &amp;nbsp;But suddenly something in your life is not about you again. &amp;nbsp;Something lives inside you, but it is not really about you. Now the ego cannot speak much. It tries to intervene, tries to make something out of your feelings that it can use. Something that can crave possession. &amp;nbsp;And if you don't fall for these tricks, you live on them, by yourself. It is so not about you that you don't need stimulators to numb the pain. &amp;nbsp;You don't wanna numb the pain. The pain is a sign of your innocence, you love the pain. The pain is a sign of what you're feeling, you can't live without the pain. &amp;nbsp;At the end, how selfless can a feeling be, as much as to make you fall in love with the pain it causes?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-311373061135494425?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/311373061135494425/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=311373061135494425' title='1 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/311373061135494425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/311373061135494425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/06/i-love-you.html' title='&quot;I love you&quot;'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-1825361348375933385</id><published>2011-06-24T18:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T18:54:41.843-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"So if you're lonely, you know I'm here waiting for you..."&lt;br /&gt;You said it yourself. Not to me. Not to anyone.&amp;nbsp;You said it once, to someone else-meant it rather. And that was all you could do. Words. Words that can easily be denied, claimed to have been misunderstood. Then you went a little too far on your quota and now you have no right to be "wrong". How void all these concepts are, you can't see it. Not many can, I don't blame you. Now I'm in a different paradox. What I thought you were doing sounds too stupid to me to believe now. It can't be real. No one can be that much of a coward, a pretender. &amp;nbsp;How can anyone act that well? No one can. I mean, you shouldn't be able to. That means I have misunderstood everything all along. You always almost say it and it always also sounds like something else. You almost say it and there is always the possibility that you meant something completely different. You ignorant little liar. Soon I will be done waiting. Actually I don't know if it's soon but someday I will. I can't even write further on this just yet. I fear if I speak it out loud it will be real and I will regret having brought it on myself. It's been too long I have run out of patience. I know I've run out of patience because I feel like I've run out of breath. I had been calm all along, going through so much. But nothing is as bad as waiting idly and especially when you're pretty confident you are waiting in vain. Now the question: "What the hell am I gonna do about this?" haunts me. A state of anxiety surrounds me. I understand slowly that there is nothing to do other than to let go. And when I let go, I'll let go of every dream, every chance, every little possibility, everything I have dreamt of, every sign that led to nowhere, everything. &amp;nbsp;That's why it's so hard but I will, I must do it someday. The bigger part of me still wishes that I won't have to let go. If I had any reason to keep believing I would want to. Even if it took longer than this, even if it would be painful, I would. But you give me no reason. You just give me signs that can as well be my misinterpretations. I fear being deluded so much that I can't fool myself like this anymore. I can't live in the past, I shouldn't. I have to move on and make room for something maybe even better. &amp;nbsp;I feed this hope with memories and misinterpretations. It isn't right.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-1825361348375933385?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/1825361348375933385/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=1825361348375933385' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1825361348375933385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1825361348375933385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/06/so-if-youre-lonely-you-know-im-here.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-1791332159702682976</id><published>2011-06-22T06:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-22T06:08:15.469-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&amp;nbsp;Had you been there, sir, I would not have loved you like I do. &amp;nbsp;Had you been there, you would not have been so perfect. &amp;nbsp;Now you have the help of my imagination to airbrush you, fill in the blanks. Someone told me a few days ago: "Nothing is too late. &amp;nbsp;Everything is just on time." &amp;nbsp;How true. It is so much easier to deal with life now.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish I weren't so effected by my dreams. It takes longer to wake up, than opening my eyes. &amp;nbsp;Guilt easily haunts me at night. &amp;nbsp;I wish there were something I could do about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-1791332159702682976?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/1791332159702682976/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=1791332159702682976' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1791332159702682976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1791332159702682976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/06/you-been-there-sir-i-would-not-have.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-3607016957461982484</id><published>2011-06-16T18:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-18T10:31:26.438-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Didn't I know from the start, that he was not Mr. Rochester? I did.&lt;br /&gt;I tried to enlarge him, make him come to be that perfect prince who is the only one I will really fall in love with. &amp;nbsp;Now it is suddenly so blindingly clear although I had known it all along. &amp;nbsp;He isn't the one. &amp;nbsp;He is one. He is a good one. He is a better-than-most-of-the-ones-before one. He is a special one. But he is not &lt;i&gt;the&lt;/i&gt; one. I had known this. I had. Then what happened? My imagination and my longing.&lt;br /&gt;Stupid of me that I fall into my own trap so easily. &amp;nbsp;I believe the lies I tell myself and then forget about them. Why had I lived like he was the one, all along? Though I never said I was in love with him, I mean, we are not "meant to be". Why would we be? We would just be good together. It would be nice. It would feed some hunger in me. It would make me cheerful for a while. And do I not deserve to want this? I do. And I still want it. Maybe just because I have lowered my expectations out of love or maybe because this is all the material I have to dream out of. Anyway. Right now, I don't want the love, I don't want the love of my life just yet. &amp;nbsp;I just want to be with him.&lt;br /&gt;Funny- the moment I said it, it sounded ridiculous. Why would I wanna be with him so badly?&lt;br /&gt;I cannot follow my own thoughts. &amp;nbsp;My hands can't keep up with my head. I am lost... then found... again.&lt;br /&gt;Oh god, please help me. &amp;nbsp;I am too confused to even know what I want. &amp;nbsp;I know I always wished for a fairy tale and I know it was the wrong man. &amp;nbsp;Nevertheless, give me a chance to fail with him. Just a chance with him. Maybe just so that I feed this greed.&lt;br /&gt;It feels like I'm wishing for this just out of habit.&lt;br /&gt;Heelppppp.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-3607016957461982484?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/3607016957461982484/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=3607016957461982484' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3607016957461982484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3607016957461982484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/06/didnt-i-knew-from-start-that-he-was-not.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-2513622268747461402</id><published>2011-06-16T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T15:07:32.553-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dear Mr. Rochester, though I am not sure that is your name,&lt;br /&gt;I miss you. &amp;nbsp;This feeling rarely is so intense, so all-consuming. &amp;nbsp;I had gotten accustomed to watching you, your life and putting on a sad smile, in case of brief encounters.&lt;br /&gt;Our lives, Mr. Rochester, used to connect. &amp;nbsp;I depended on you, you depended on me. I remember how it felt to imagine our lives without our company. &amp;nbsp;Now I see it realized and it's not the way I had presumed it to be. &amp;nbsp;It is easier. &amp;nbsp;It is not unbearable. &amp;nbsp;The agony is burning inside but the flesh too cold to melt.&lt;br /&gt;The flesh.&lt;br /&gt;It is by itself alone. &amp;nbsp;The flesh is just what I hate to be. Never fits the shape of my dreams. It bears the crude reality. But why I need the dream in flesh as well, I cannot say. It is his greed, his hunger that I want fed, maybe. &amp;nbsp;But why does it feel deeper, so much deeper?&lt;br /&gt;It is the flesh that is keeping me from everything. And once again it comes to this, unfortunately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now there is this burning desire in me, to tell you once again. &amp;nbsp;Though it would do more harm than good, I want you to face this. &amp;nbsp;But you will only face it inside and never bear to look me in the eye again. &lt;br /&gt;I cannot stand it anymore. &amp;nbsp;I want to scream at your face that - I still do love you!!!&lt;br /&gt;I live by that faint chance that you might love me too.&lt;br /&gt;I count on your own words that you would not even remember.&lt;br /&gt;I count on fate who always, always lets me down, breaks my heart.&lt;br /&gt;Try as I might, I cannot run away- being unfortunately not as lucky as you.&lt;br /&gt;I do not have a shelter to run to like you do.&lt;br /&gt;Though I cannot be sure about the pain you might be going through&lt;br /&gt;On the surface, your life is much easier than I have to get through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every piece of beauty breaks my heart. &lt;br /&gt;Every piece of beauty reminds me of my incompleteness.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot bear to look at the sun, or the moon. They are all reminders of you.&lt;br /&gt;Not just because they are far away, but also because they are incomplete without you.&lt;br /&gt;How come a person ever feels like this? I cannot appreciate nature because I cannot be with you?&lt;br /&gt;Feels irrelevant, feels silly but feels so real.&lt;br /&gt;But now I've found what.&lt;br /&gt;I cannot get lost in the view, because the pain is there to remind me how I cannot turn into the view.&lt;br /&gt;How we are disconnected. How far it really is. How I cannot experience it because I cannot forget about my being. There! Sits your picture in my head, hurting and hurting more! Reminding me that the flesh is there and I cannot feel the beauty! I cannot breathe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will delve into my poetry and my paint and will try to forget&lt;br /&gt;Although it is you in every letter I write and every color I paint.&lt;br /&gt;The songs are left empty when I forget about you and they hurt when I remember.&lt;br /&gt;It feels so good asleep and so bad to wake up. So peaceful and so fiery in my dreams- so disturbing and painful to open my eyes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-2513622268747461402?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/2513622268747461402/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=2513622268747461402' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2513622268747461402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2513622268747461402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/06/dear-mr.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-5941594541752512930</id><published>2011-06-16T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T08:21:05.736-07:00</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; line-height: 14px;"&gt;"yet still speaks the poet, the jane inside you even when you're so certain that she doesn't exist. what you call yourself is jane, we make her real, we make her non-fiction. there is no you, without jane, no jane without you. and she had lost faith too, remember? and this is not the end of the story though so it might seem."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;I told this to a friend who lost faith in Jane, in love, in fairy tales. &amp;nbsp;I don't know what makes me sound so sure since I certainly am not sure and have serious doubts about it myself. &amp;nbsp;But it was surprising and I don't know whether it was a relief or not that I suddenly remembered that Jane herself had no faith at all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Not believing in Jane makes life bland but somewhat easier. Living without expectations is easier.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Believing in Jane makes life a mystery, a novel and living without dreams would be harder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;I am currently somewhere in between, this period of my life may determine which way to go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;If a miracle happens now, that will be all it takes to revive the Jane inside of me. And I say this and make it sound like Jane is a part of me but I wonder if there would be any me, without Jane.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;But a miracle- I am not anticipating one.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Maybe losing faith is part of being Jane. Maybe it is just another story we make up in our heads to make it all make sense, sound meaningful. &amp;nbsp;Maybe we try so hard to make a novel out of life or maybe we just see most others don't- that is, that life is already a novel. &amp;nbsp;We just see it in shapes, solidly. We see it coming out of a quill. And we anticipate the end, before we are there. We expect the perfect end. It might not be happy, but it has to be meaningful.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Going through life, we go through pages - Writing our parts and waiting for Mr. Rochester to play his part well. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Now imagine whether you would be you, without the quill.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Picture your life in space and not on pages. It doesn't work. It will never work for us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;Maybe someday far from this one, we'll grow out of the pages.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;The pages are our shelters and the quill only sometimes belongs to us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-5941594541752512930?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/5941594541752512930/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=5941594541752512930' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/5941594541752512930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/5941594541752512930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/06/yet-still-speaks-poet-jane-inside-you.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-8408546120376084004</id><published>2011-06-14T09:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T09:05:51.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>come away with me tonight and i'll never stop loving you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-8408546120376084004?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/8408546120376084004/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=8408546120376084004' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8408546120376084004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8408546120376084004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/06/come-away-with-me-tonight-and-ill-never.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-3227457446392097928</id><published>2011-06-13T16:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-13T16:58:42.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Çok nadir yaşadığım zamanlardan birindeyim, o da, hiçbir şarkı mutlu edemez beni şu anda.&lt;br /&gt;Beatles bile acıklı gelir, ne dinlersem dinleyeyim dokunuyor şu an, hüzünlendiriyor. Müzik başlı başına hüzünlü bir şeymiş gibi. Hatta özellikle neşeli şarkılar hüzünlendiriyor şu an. Neden olduğunu anlayamadığım ama ara sıra yaşadığım bir şey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Günü geçiriyorum. Hayatımda "şu yanlış" dediğim hiçbir şey yok resmen-en azından kafama taktığım. Bir tatminsizlik var ama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben kıymet bilmeyen birisi de değilim ki.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ama her gün çektiğimin eziyet olduğunu, bu şehirde yaşamanın benim için gerçekten işkence olduğunu, resmen ömrümü kısalttığını da biliyorum. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ama bu gece gece gelen, anlamsız hüznün, ne yapsam, nereye gitsem bilememecenin sebebi bu değil sanırm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eksik olan, ama günü geçirmemi engellemeyen şeyler arıyorum sebep olarak. Var bir tane, evet, aklıma ilk gelen o. Ama farkında olmadan etkilenebilir mi insan bir şeyden bu kadar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mazoşistliğimden midir nedir, Jane Austen okumaya başladım bir de. &amp;nbsp;Kimseye göstermediğim bir parçamın zayıf noktası, eksikliğini, ancak okuyabiliyorum. İnsanın okurken dönüşemediği sayfalar da çok hüzünlü.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sanki zaman geçirmeye çalışıyorum sadece. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ama zaman geçiyor. Boşa geçiyor. Anlamsız geçiyor. Anlam... yok. En azından benim için.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sanırım yine kendim olmaktan sıkıldım. Başa döndük. Geçmiştik bunları?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hüzün. &amp;nbsp;Bazen bokunu çıkartıyorsun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-3227457446392097928?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/3227457446392097928/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=3227457446392097928' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3227457446392097928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3227457446392097928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/06/cok-nadir-yasadgm-zamanlardan.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-204205761472482657</id><published>2011-06-04T18:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-04T18:25:56.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>.*</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Can you see me through this bad dream?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Does my shadow hint where the light is?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Do you ever hope to see me when you're crying,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The only time you can't deny your weakness?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Do you know the beauty of being defenseless?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Do you know what it is like to hope for this moment?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;And hope that they don't run from your bruises?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I know&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;That you are not so pretty under your clothes.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;But I think I'll love your skin even more.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;So let us be brave and take it all off!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I'll leave my pride and you, your smile.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;And every other show we play on the façade.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;You know I don't believe in your smile,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I know you don't believe in my denial.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-204205761472482657?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/204205761472482657/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=204205761472482657' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/204205761472482657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/204205761472482657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/06/blog-post.html' title='.*'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-4128784393856937671</id><published>2011-06-04T14:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-04T18:28:06.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'>laf</title><content type='html'>Sadece esprilerine güldüğüm birisi olacaksın.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-4128784393856937671?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/4128784393856937671/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=4128784393856937671' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4128784393856937671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4128784393856937671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/06/itirafname.html' title='laf'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-1323843429422618659</id><published>2011-06-03T06:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T06:37:45.453-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Son final-Son paper</title><content type='html'>2 saatlik bir film izleyecek konsantrasyona bile sahip olmadığım şu zamanda, 2 gün içinde hem (bu kelimeyi kullanmak istemezdim ama) en taşaklı finalime hazırlanıp (ki asla yeterince hazır olamazsın), hem de hayvan gibi bir paper yazmış olmam gerek. İkisine de hiç başlamadığımı söylememe gerek var mı? &amp;nbsp;Mucizelere inanmayı bıraktım falan diyorum ya, heralde bir yanım bırakmamış ki hala bu ikisini de bir şekilde yapabileceğimi düşünüp, şu an gayet pişkin bir şekilde bu yazıyı yazıyor, Eye of the Tiger dinlemek yerine Norah Jones dinliyor, akşam arkadaşlarımın 567890987654. konserine gitmeyi bekliyorum.&lt;br /&gt;Üniversitede iyi bir öğrenci olamadın canım. Gidişat "repeat" olmaya doğru hatta.&lt;br /&gt;"Yumurta kapıya dayanınca" metodu lisede işe yarıyordu. Baya işe yarıyordu. Resmen öyle okul birincisi falan oldum. Bütün sınavlara son gün çalışıyordun 100 alıyordun lisede, ne güzeldi ya.&lt;br /&gt;Şimdi istersen 1 hafta önceden çalış, derse gitmediysen yapacak hiçbir şeyin yok. Derste hocanın anlattığını duymadıysan, orada anlamadıysan, 1 hafta boyunca çalışacak bir materyalin bile yok.&lt;br /&gt;Ve sen, sevgili kötü öğrenci, sana 3-5 sayfalık bir paper yaz denildiğinde, sıradan basit bir konu bulamıyor, illa 4. sınıf seviyesinde konuları beğeniyor isen, sonra "Ben nasıl yazacağım bunu 1 günde?????!!" tribine girersin tabii.&lt;br /&gt;Ben buna bir girişeyim. Introduction yapsan yeter be kızım. Gerisi çorap söküğü. (yalanlar)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-1323843429422618659?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/1323843429422618659/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=1323843429422618659' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1323843429422618659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1323843429422618659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/06/son-final-son-paper.html' title='Son final-Son paper'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-5807881796962170548</id><published>2011-05-28T14:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T14:52:28.570-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I used to dream dream dream... Now it's&lt;br /&gt;The crude reality.&lt;br /&gt;My face looks cold, and I think a bit older now.&lt;br /&gt;My eyes were full hope once.&lt;br /&gt;I used to hope... I lived on hope...&lt;br /&gt;And it was the drug that made the sun pink.&lt;br /&gt;It was what filled my fantasies.&lt;br /&gt;Hope was what I created my dreams out of.&lt;br /&gt;And the reason I ever loved Jane Austen.&lt;br /&gt;Oh dreams, dreams dreams...&lt;br /&gt;How I loved you once.&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe I am saying goodbye&lt;br /&gt;To what made me who I am.&lt;br /&gt;But I can't feel so much anymore.&lt;br /&gt;I am not that person anymore.&lt;br /&gt;The world's gone black and white.&lt;br /&gt;I can't own up to this new person I am.&lt;br /&gt;Everything makes too much sense&lt;br /&gt;So nothing does!&lt;br /&gt;Who is this in my skin??&lt;br /&gt;Someone else is looking through my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;I've lost my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;I've lost all my dreams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-5807881796962170548?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/5807881796962170548/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=5807881796962170548' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/5807881796962170548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/5807881796962170548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-used-to-dream-dream-dream.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-7031426606640558790</id><published>2011-05-28T14:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-28T14:40:46.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I...&lt;br /&gt;I was so sure of what I was going to right but then just as a wrote "I", it no longer made sense.&lt;br /&gt;That is how unsure I am about what I want. Or what I need.&lt;br /&gt;This is no extraordinary case, I know. &amp;nbsp;Still, doesn't mean I don't have to decide and stick to it.&lt;br /&gt;I often feel like my organs are moving up, up till they get to my throat... And they swell, get larger... There is hardly room for air.&lt;br /&gt;This happens when I think of him. &amp;nbsp;The feeling used to be different.&lt;br /&gt;I used to feel like all my body was slightly shaking but no one could see it. &amp;nbsp;It was a light earth-quake, seeing him, thinking of him... It was joyful. &amp;nbsp;I always smiled from the inside.&lt;br /&gt;Now it's just uncomfortable. &amp;nbsp;Although there is no such thing, makes me feel like I did something wrong.&lt;br /&gt;I want to distract myself when the thought enters my mind. &amp;nbsp;I immediately wanna think of something else.&lt;br /&gt;He makes me uncomfortable now.&lt;br /&gt;Because he is uncomfortable. &amp;nbsp;He can't relax. &amp;nbsp;He can't take it easy. &amp;nbsp;I think it's the hardest thing to do in his life.&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't care a bit if he didn't get so awkward. &amp;nbsp;And because he is so awkward and I am so cool with all things, makes me feel like I'm guilty.&lt;br /&gt;It is all his fault.&lt;br /&gt;How come I feel like this?&lt;br /&gt;Whatever.&lt;br /&gt;I just wanna let go now. &amp;nbsp;I think I really want this now. Because I don't believe in meaning anymore. &amp;nbsp;I don't believe in fairy tales anymore. &amp;nbsp;Pollyanna's suicide makes more sense now. &amp;nbsp;No I'm not pessimistic at all. &amp;nbsp;I just stopped believing in my dreams. &amp;nbsp;I stopped believing in miracles. &amp;nbsp;Stupid to believe in something you've never experienced. &amp;nbsp;Well, almost never. &amp;nbsp;But the truth is, there is no rule that if you want something hard enough, you get it. &amp;nbsp;Well you don't. I've wanted this for so long I even forgot why I wanted it in the first place. &amp;nbsp;I wanted it everyday. I thought we were meant to be. I thought it was just about time. I thought it was about the right time. I had so much faith that I didn't even worry. &amp;nbsp;I put a smile on my face and walked with the confidence of knowing it was destiny. &amp;nbsp;But the truth is I can't wait any longer to see my dream fail. &amp;nbsp;To be disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;So bad, we don't live in the age of the romantics. &amp;nbsp;This is a post-modern world. &amp;nbsp;It's in vain, trying to live like I was in Paris, in Jane Austen novels.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-7031426606640558790?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/7031426606640558790/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=7031426606640558790' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7031426606640558790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7031426606640558790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/05/i.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-9083633879511115457</id><published>2011-05-23T15:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-23T15:26:13.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I don't want silence anymore!&lt;br /&gt;No more silence, please!&lt;br /&gt;It's too fast - the hole&lt;br /&gt;Being dug inside me&lt;br /&gt;My patience can't keep up&lt;br /&gt;Can't fill it up as quick anymore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-9083633879511115457?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/9083633879511115457/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=9083633879511115457' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/9083633879511115457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/9083633879511115457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-dont-want-silence-anymore-no-more.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-4474980837547877582</id><published>2011-05-22T02:50:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T03:34:40.578-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's wake up in nothingness again.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Let's wake up in nothingness again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Let's wake up in nowhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;The place is just what we'll create.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;No past feelings or plans.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Let's wake up in nothingness again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;But it's the good kind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Where we can just "be"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Without strings attached to time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I can't dream to escape this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I dream out of hope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;And hope died with a smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I think it had me fooled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Let's wake up in nothingness again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Be awakened by the sunshine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;And not by the guilt over the past,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Or the concern of tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;When you miss the darkness, go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Let it remind you of what you forgot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Don't worry, it's just a glimpse of it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;It can do no harm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Oh what a weight to be unloaded!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;What a sight to erase!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Just turn back to your world dear,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;And forget that you've forgotten.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Let's wake up in nothingness again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Just reverie, reverie and the moon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Naked souls and open hearts&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Are allowed to fill the room.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Timeless, reverie, so lost&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;But never felt so rightly placed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;All illusions- Sounds and visions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Blazing! Fade into the haze.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&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/5258542323974904308-4474980837547877582?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/4474980837547877582/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=4474980837547877582' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4474980837547877582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4474980837547877582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/05/blog-post.html' title='Let&apos;s wake up in nothingness again.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-7503798462164138268</id><published>2011-05-09T06:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T06:48:06.925-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;I guess I just don't... care anymore. &amp;nbsp;At this point, it's not the safeness that comes with knowing it's our fate. It is not about hope. &amp;nbsp;It is just that, I'm tired and I sometimes get sick when I hear your shallow words. &amp;nbsp;I cannot believe what I'm feeling, maybe I'm just fooling myself, but I'm being true. Why would you matter today? There is not a good reason why you should. Why would I care, today? When I have so many pretty memories -which don't include you at all- to go back to, why would dream of a non-existent day with you? Why feed the greed? Why try reaching beyond limits, when it's my happiness at stake? Would you make me happier? I don't really know now. You would be an extra piece. I'd get exhausted, trying to find a place to fit you in. Trying to compromise would be too hard, knowing our dreams will always clash and never meet peacefully. Our lives, are just two poles that will never make a whole.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;All these, I knew before, I just couldn't feel them. &amp;nbsp;I don't know if I'm feeling them right now but maybe I just can't ignore them. Maybe it's time to let go. Maybe I'm trying to make myself believe this. But a part of me wants to keep loving you, not because it's you, but because then maybe a fairy tale would come true. If I keep loving you and you one day love me, I will go on believing in magic. If I let go of you, as I am doing now unwillingly, I will have fooled myself for months. It's not about you anymore, it's about the story. I'm just bored. I can't fight that. Stupid, I'm trying to cause myself more pain when I can easily shut this all down. But then there would be no fairy-tale... I'm frightened. I had believed in this with all my heart and soul. &amp;nbsp;All I wanted was for you to love me but I never thought I'd stop loving you, waiting. &amp;nbsp;I think of your face and I feel nothing. I think of you, and I just feel sick because I don't know what I feel.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I just don't wanna come down to earth. I was better off loving you on my own. Now there is this big hole that drowns my faith and hopes. I want to care! I want to hope! But they're drifting away from me. I can't feel it! I can't!!! Why doesn't my heart yell?? Why don't I miss you anymore?!!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; I just can't let go of everything I believed in till now. I can't let go of my stupid faith. I have to keep loving you, so that the tale can come true, even if it hurts me now.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;It's frightening because I can't feel what I've been feeling all this time. It's like in this very last hour, the last fragments of love evaporated and disappeared. &amp;nbsp;Where did it all go so suddenly? I was just singing about you a few minutes ago! And those notes took you away from me. Those words, I had written for you, now don't make sense! And they are the ones that took my feelings away. I wrote so much of it, sang so much for it, dreamt so much that maybe there is nothing left anymore! I feel like crying but I'm not even sad! I just lost something I have been holding onto for so long.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;It's too new. I can't get used to this void just now.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-7503798462164138268?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/7503798462164138268/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=7503798462164138268' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7503798462164138268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7503798462164138268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-guess-i-just-dont.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-7461863959606615415</id><published>2011-05-01T17:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-22T03:28:46.307-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh Little Jane.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Waking up is always painful-&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Opening your long-shut eyes&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Being weak as we are.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And nothing as strong as habits:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Self-established rules&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;We kid ourselves to have time&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;To play the imaginary game.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And you wake up one day,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;To see no one will ever win.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You wake up one day and see&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;No point in what you're saying.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Unimaginably heavy it must be&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;To see for one little moment&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;That all your life,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You've misunderstood you.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You took your "self" for yourself.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And the show for the core.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Trying to hold onto a fact is in vain.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You look in the mirror&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And now you can't own up to that self&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;You know, that's not you-&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;But it is, how you look.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;But it's just not you.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;But you still have no clue&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Who you really are.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Realizing you've been ignorant&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Takes a minute.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Takes more than an epiphany&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;To learn.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Now there's the whole world&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;To discover with clear sight.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Now your vision is not distorted&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;By your unintentional lies.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Tame your "self" and dare be true.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;This is maybe the hardest to do.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Now all the labels on you gone,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Naked- you feel cold.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;But you have a chance of happiness&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Some people will never know.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And be someone that you can bear to be.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-7461863959606615415?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/7461863959606615415/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=7461863959606615415' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7461863959606615415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7461863959606615415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-think-people-get-lost-too-easy-being.html' title='Oh Little Jane.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-405999186143964021</id><published>2011-04-20T14:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T14:59:39.050-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A shift in perspective, all so sudden&lt;br /&gt;Finding relief in the familiar,&lt;br /&gt;Discovering what has been there.&lt;br /&gt;It's about the eyes. The eye.&lt;br /&gt;The Eye learns every day-&lt;br /&gt;Ways to see, to communicate.&lt;br /&gt;Now I can perceive the life&lt;br /&gt;I had hid behind these words.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly all so bearable and new.&lt;br /&gt;Definitions matter less and less.&lt;br /&gt;Trying, taking a chance-&lt;br /&gt;It feels like inhaling new air.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-405999186143964021?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/405999186143964021/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=405999186143964021' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/405999186143964021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/405999186143964021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/04/shift-in-perspective-all-so-sudden.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-4519536657408311519</id><published>2011-04-20T05:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T07:47:18.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If two souls are meant for one,&lt;br /&gt;I must have faith and move on,&lt;br /&gt;Fill myself with patience&lt;br /&gt;With the aid of distractions&lt;br /&gt;Time will flow so sudden&lt;br /&gt;And feelings-kept alive&lt;br /&gt;I must not fear tomorrow&lt;br /&gt;Or the past to easily die&lt;br /&gt;I shall not idly wait&lt;br /&gt;Whilst he be entertained&lt;br /&gt;I must have faith&lt;br /&gt;That our paths will meet&lt;br /&gt;By the course of nature.&lt;br /&gt;Everything we wrongly call love&lt;br /&gt;Will lead us to the hut&lt;br /&gt;Booked for us to age under.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it is a tale that I seek,&lt;br /&gt;I must let it unfold in time&lt;br /&gt;Nature, to take her time&lt;br /&gt;To prepare the heaven meant for us.&lt;br /&gt;I must meet him with a smile&lt;br /&gt;And not fear the power of time&lt;br /&gt;Not fear that he shall be fooled&lt;br /&gt;Or that I be lost&lt;br /&gt;We'll both be lost&lt;br /&gt;Only to find each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this, I try to carve into my head&lt;br /&gt;But still, questions remain I confess.&lt;br /&gt;Is time really such a friend?&lt;br /&gt;Memory when neglected, betrays&lt;br /&gt;Memories, when not fed, fade.&lt;br /&gt;But I shall dare be wrong&lt;br /&gt;And hold onto this chance.&lt;br /&gt;It might be it, might be not.&lt;br /&gt;I might be living in a lie.&lt;br /&gt;But the safeness, I shall not give up&lt;br /&gt;If no one comes to wake me up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-4519536657408311519?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/4519536657408311519/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=4519536657408311519' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4519536657408311519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4519536657408311519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/04/if-two-souls-are-meant-for-one-i-must.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-3712670287957064764</id><published>2011-04-20T05:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T05:21:33.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Astrophel and Stella, Stanza 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Not at first sight, nor with a dribbéd shot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Love gave the wound, which while I breathe will bleed,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;But known worth did in mine of time proceed,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Till by degrees it had full conquest got.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;I saw and liked, I liked but loved not,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;I loved, but straight did not what&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Love&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;decreed;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;At length to Love's decrees, I, forced, agreed;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Yet with repining at so partial lot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Now even that footstep of lost liberty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;Is gone, and now like slave-born Muscovite,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;I call it praise to suffer tyranny;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;And now employ the remnant of my wit,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; To make myself believe that all is well, &amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; While with a feeling skill I paint my hel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-3712670287957064764?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/3712670287957064764/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=3712670287957064764' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3712670287957064764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3712670287957064764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/04/astrophel-and-stella-stanza-2.html' title='Astrophel and Stella, Stanza 2'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-3917252462177970251</id><published>2011-04-13T13:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T13:44:27.398-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am just not ready sir.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I am just not ready sir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;To let you go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;If you don't mind,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Let me sir,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Have this one last dream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;One last dream-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;So real-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="line-height: 16px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;That I'll feel to my bones.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;One last wish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;And close the door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;One last time,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;To hold you-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Just in my head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;One last night-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;To fall asleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;With a smile.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;A day will come&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I'll run out of things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I make my dreams out of.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;No memories&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;No wishes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;No longings&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Past, too distant to tempt.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Your face, faded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;So old, that feels cold and dead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;But there's time-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Till that day sir.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;So let me dream of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;Let me say goodbye&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;With the best dream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've ever dreamt of you.&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/5258542323974904308-3917252462177970251?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/3917252462177970251/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=3917252462177970251' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3917252462177970251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3917252462177970251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-am-just-not-ready-sir.html' title='I am just not ready sir.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-2097957845060306543</id><published>2011-04-10T12:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-10T12:16:47.121-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Minik Zevkler</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rktU7JRyU-A/TaIA3BuFgFI/AAAAAAAAAD8/Y2--PfvKrN4/s1600/Photo-0029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="176" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rktU7JRyU-A/TaIA3BuFgFI/AAAAAAAAAD8/Y2--PfvKrN4/s320/Photo-0029.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Doya doya yaşamalı minik zevkleri.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Ama doymaya çalışırken kaçırmamalı.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://fizy.com/#s/1d7f0m"&gt;http://fizy.com/#s/1d7f0m&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The Beatles-Blackbird&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a name='more'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-2097957845060306543?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/2097957845060306543/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=2097957845060306543' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2097957845060306543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2097957845060306543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/04/minik-zevkler.html' title='Minik Zevkler'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rktU7JRyU-A/TaIA3BuFgFI/AAAAAAAAAD8/Y2--PfvKrN4/s72-c/Photo-0029.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-7023662105237628919</id><published>2011-04-05T00:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T00:06:52.194-07:00</updated><title type='text'>February</title><content type='html'>My mysterious secret-&lt;br /&gt;Oh you try to help.&lt;br /&gt;I tell you, all about you&lt;br /&gt;And you have no clue.&lt;br /&gt;That's how far you are&lt;br /&gt;From what I can't survive.&lt;br /&gt;Ironic; it's all you.&lt;br /&gt;It's all, all about you.&lt;br /&gt;I envy your confidence&lt;br /&gt;When you joke about us&lt;br /&gt;How does it feel, that safeness&lt;br /&gt;Or feeling nothing wrong?&lt;br /&gt;Never having to worry,&lt;br /&gt;That your colours will show?&lt;br /&gt;Or being so open hearted&lt;br /&gt;Because your heart is irrelevant?&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to fear to reveal&lt;br /&gt;Nothing to conceal&lt;br /&gt;Nothing you can't joke about?&lt;br /&gt;No guilt...&lt;br /&gt;No shame...&lt;br /&gt;A simple, pure heart.&lt;br /&gt;I miss those days&lt;br /&gt;When I didn't have to lie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-7023662105237628919?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/7023662105237628919/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=7023662105237628919' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7023662105237628919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7023662105237628919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/04/february.html' title='February'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-1755527857591504360</id><published>2011-04-04T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T13:18:22.162-07:00</updated><title type='text'>paint the night sky</title><content type='html'>It seems everybody's found a way&lt;br /&gt;Only I can't move on from yesterday&lt;br /&gt;Burning happy memories to stay warm&lt;br /&gt;So many of them, I can't let go.&lt;br /&gt;I hear your regret in your voice&lt;br /&gt;But don't you see? I need the words!&lt;br /&gt;I know why you act the way you do.&lt;br /&gt;But my pride needs to know it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So many innocent dreams I dream...&lt;br /&gt;Almost naive.&lt;br /&gt;Together we play like children&lt;br /&gt;And run like we're young again.&lt;br /&gt;Cause I know that's how it'll feel&lt;br /&gt;If I ever get to hold your hand.&lt;br /&gt;With the longing in our hearts&lt;br /&gt;How beautiful it would be&lt;br /&gt;If we one day decided&lt;br /&gt;To paint the night sky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-1755527857591504360?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/1755527857591504360/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=1755527857591504360' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1755527857591504360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1755527857591504360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/04/paint-night-sky.html' title='paint the night sky'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-7736115138654338009</id><published>2011-04-01T16:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T16:48:54.702-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hope dies in daylight.</title><content type='html'>I'd been wandering around in a garden, waiting for someone to open the door.&lt;br /&gt;Occupied myself with the flowers around.&lt;br /&gt;Tried to appreciate the beauty of everything.&lt;br /&gt;Then I realized, nobody was coming.&lt;br /&gt;And now I can't be satisfied with the overall charm of things&lt;br /&gt;When all I really want is to get through that door.&lt;br /&gt;How can I console myself now, tell me!&lt;br /&gt;Give me something to play with to pass time.&lt;br /&gt;Tell me I didn't waste my time.&lt;br /&gt;But I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to face the daylight now, where there is no room for different answers.&lt;br /&gt;No room for consolation. No room for hope.&lt;br /&gt;The sad truth sits there in the middle, without any self doubt.&lt;br /&gt;Everything is exactly what it seems.&lt;br /&gt;And I can't lie to myself in daylight, can't fool myself anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Everything around me, feels unfamiliar.&lt;br /&gt;Lifeless objects have angry faces ready to yell at me.&lt;br /&gt;I am not wanted here. I don't belong in here.&lt;br /&gt;I am the piece that doesn't fit.&lt;br /&gt;And it's only this picture, that I want to fit in.&lt;br /&gt;Too bad. Too bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-7736115138654338009?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/7736115138654338009/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=7736115138654338009' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7736115138654338009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7736115138654338009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/04/hope-dies-in-daylight.html' title='Hope dies in daylight.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-9027019125845946296</id><published>2011-03-16T16:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T16:14:39.058-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The sun is fading-&lt;br /&gt;The grass is moving-&lt;br /&gt;Colours are changing&lt;br /&gt;And I'm smiling-&lt;br /&gt;Smiling in spite of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking&lt;br /&gt;Thinking what could have been&lt;br /&gt;And I'm smiling&lt;br /&gt;Smiling at the dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm changing&lt;br /&gt;As the world's turning&lt;br /&gt;Nothing is waiting&lt;br /&gt;I'm finally awaking-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sadness turns into memories&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm newly learning&lt;br /&gt;Standing and walking&lt;br /&gt;To a different horizon&lt;br /&gt;Same life, new feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moment is fading&lt;br /&gt;Memories are dying&lt;br /&gt;The dream is dying-&lt;br /&gt;Soon to be gone away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-9027019125845946296?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/9027019125845946296/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=9027019125845946296' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/9027019125845946296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/9027019125845946296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/03/sun-is-fading-grass-is-moving-colours.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-3989246078838454056</id><published>2011-03-16T16:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T16:10:24.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm watching the beauty&lt;br /&gt;Facing the truth&lt;br /&gt;How the view fails-&lt;br /&gt;To fill me in-&lt;br /&gt;Without you.&lt;br /&gt;Awe-striking beauty&lt;br /&gt;Would make me feel sad&lt;br /&gt;I've moved over that.&lt;br /&gt;But now the thought of you&lt;br /&gt;Stands in the way&lt;br /&gt;Of experiencing this&lt;br /&gt;Perfect fairy tale.&lt;br /&gt;I'm missing out on things&lt;br /&gt;Life, passing by.&lt;br /&gt;Missing out on things-&lt;br /&gt;I had long wished for.&lt;br /&gt;Just your face lingers,&lt;br /&gt;Lingers in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't pass.&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't pass by.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-3989246078838454056?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/3989246078838454056/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=3989246078838454056' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3989246078838454056'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3989246078838454056'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/03/im-watching-beauty-facing-truth-how.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-9180703053925019520</id><published>2011-03-01T15:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-01T15:06:15.277-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I can neither name nor control anything I'm feeling. I don't know what I want. I just feel this weight on me now. I know I'm sad. Whatever it is that I want, is not this. I can only sit and watch while tears fill my eyes all the time. I try so hard to understand but I can't. All that I've known and said up to this day, don't fit what is happening now. It's too messy. Too intense, too much. I can't entangle it all at once, I'm not enough. I wait for help, it doesn't arrive. No piece is in its right place. I feel shattered, corrupted. I'm watching a wreckage sink into mud as I'm watching his life. I can't find a place for myself in there. I can only witness happinesses that don't belong to me. My tranquility is not of peace but of despair. The despair that comes with having said all there is to be said, having done all there is to be done and having failed. I can't even take a step towards the cliff and jump. There is no other step. Not towards the end or the beginning. &amp;nbsp;I'm tied down to where I am, tears being the proof of my living. The cold, the wind are all in me, taking me nowhere. I believe if I close my eyes long enough, I'll awake from this dream but I always face the same scene. Joys and laughters that don't belong to me. Our joys have expired, they should not be remembered. I keep it all to myself and my heart gets bigger and bigger but it's never easier to breathe. I have to hide my tears, keep my words to myself, hold myself back and hide all that makes me who I am. I don't know how to survive in a place where I can't be me. How can I be me, when I'm so far from being me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-9180703053925019520?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/9180703053925019520/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=9180703053925019520' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/9180703053925019520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/9180703053925019520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-can-neither-name-nor-control-anything.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-845665959482724868</id><published>2011-02-28T15:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-28T15:15:21.831-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I never thought I would ever feel this way about you. But I do. I told you. You told me to walk away quietly. I did so too. Now I look and I see no point. I naively believe everything you told me today. And I honestly told you everything I felt. &amp;nbsp;You rejected me. I don't know if you meant everything you said. I begged you, begged you of some sincerity. Words didn't come out of your mouth so easy. I looked deep in your eyes and asked you. You couldn't say it. Maybe you just don't feel it.&lt;br /&gt;If you felt what I feel, you'd be strong. You'd face it all.&lt;br /&gt;But you don't.&lt;br /&gt;And you won't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-845665959482724868?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/845665959482724868/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=845665959482724868' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/845665959482724868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/845665959482724868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-never-thought-i-would-ever-feel-this.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-8959037710571163351</id><published>2011-02-25T15:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-25T15:39:50.745-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I never thought I'd care this much. I never thought that my world would depend on you. You. My dear friend. I miss you everyday but I can't stand being around you, watching you trying to keep yourself away. Can't watch you be so normal, like nothing ever happened while I'm begging inside, for a look that I'll recognize. Something I understand, in your eyes. No. You cover it all, being the man you are. I'm not even sure anymore if there is anything you feel, that you should hide. My sweetest, darkest secret. How I feed you with our memories, everyday. How I want to cry every time you look away. I wonder if you know what goes on in me. How much clearer can it be? I just keep staring at you, with the hope that you'll do something subtle and I'll understand that you're still confused. I wanna know that you're confused. I wanna know that you're fighting yourself every day over this. I want your desires to win. I want to make this deep. Risk it all. Let nothing be the same ever again. I don't care now. It's like a drug. It'll make the pain go away. I just won't think about the end. Let's just not think about the end before we start, just once.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-8959037710571163351?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/8959037710571163351/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=8959037710571163351' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8959037710571163351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8959037710571163351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/i-never-thought-id-care-this-much.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-188503087903124548</id><published>2011-02-22T14:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T11:55:40.509-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lullaby</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Stay silent in your sleepless nights&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Poor soul, you need to be fixed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;All the pain that keeps you awake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Takes patience to be eased.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I'll sing to you until you fall asleep&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Even if it takes all night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I'll wait by you to make sure I'm there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;When your nightmares wake you up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I'll bring you some water&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;And play with your hair&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Tuck you in the blanket you throw away&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Dim out the lights&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;And sing you good night&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I'll chase the ghosts inside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;And in the morning when the light&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Is too bright to bear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;I'll close up the curtains&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;There's no need to rush&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-height: 14px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;A warm cup of coffee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;And the beautiful day…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;Here we share&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;A miracle.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&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/5258542323974904308-188503087903124548?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/188503087903124548/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=188503087903124548' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/188503087903124548'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/188503087903124548'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/lullaby.html' title='Lullaby'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-4869882301210884681</id><published>2011-02-21T09:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T09:10:44.851-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where is this heat coming from?</title><content type='html'>Where is this heat coming from?&lt;br /&gt;Why do I feel warm?&lt;br /&gt;This cosy feelings surrounds me&lt;br /&gt;When I think of you.&lt;br /&gt;Puts me on a higher place&lt;br /&gt;and a smile on my face&lt;br /&gt;I feel subtly lighter&lt;br /&gt;Something inside tickles me.&lt;br /&gt;I love everyone I hate.&lt;br /&gt;Tolerate all I cannot bear.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing I can hear,&lt;br /&gt;or understand.&lt;br /&gt;It's an isolated room,&lt;br /&gt;an isolated state.&lt;br /&gt;How can I feel all this&lt;br /&gt;just by myself?&lt;br /&gt;And from all this,&lt;br /&gt;I understand&lt;br /&gt;Two makes equal share.&lt;br /&gt;One makes it heavier to bear.&lt;br /&gt;But the high I get&lt;br /&gt;When I see your face&lt;br /&gt;That won't ever fade&lt;br /&gt;Into something I must share.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-4869882301210884681?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/4869882301210884681/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=4869882301210884681' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4869882301210884681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4869882301210884681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/where-is-this-heat-coming-from.html' title='Where is this heat coming from?'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-6388346093314837430</id><published>2011-02-20T11:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-20T11:52:43.396-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It's hard seeing your "love" commercialized like this, everywhere, in the cheesiest possible way. You already know, you can't make yourself believe in this lie you tell everyone. How can it be the right thing when it feels wrong? You know you want exactly what I want. I'll wait for as long as it takes, if there is the smallest possibility that you will see this. I just hope I won't have to wait for long.&lt;br /&gt;Please don't leave me hanging on this thread for long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-6388346093314837430?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/6388346093314837430/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=6388346093314837430' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6388346093314837430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6388346093314837430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/its-hard-seeing-your-love.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-6052443961261242383</id><published>2011-02-18T18:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-18T18:20:14.254-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;What makes sense to some is choosing routine over love, habits over passion even sadness over adventure.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;This makes the prosaic man of the century as Stendhal had called it back in 1700's.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;And what makes sense to some doesn't make sense to others. Some choose to follow their hearts and get them broken. Some play it safe and just settle for being "fine" while others choose being excited and hurt.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;I will never be one of those who has strictly set out roles defined by rights and wrongs.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;I can never be a person who plays by the rules of society or tradition.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;I can never hide my colors and pretend for the sake of roles.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;So I'll keep on losing and it's fine. I'll be the extinct kind, the poetic kind, the one who wants her cup either full or completely empty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;I'll be the one who dreams wild dreams and expects childishly for them to come to life.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;I'll be the one who naively hopes against all odds.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;I'll be the one who believes and doesn't choose to know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;I'll fool myself for the sake of a few good days and then enjoy the misery just because it's a part of life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;Because I will never ever be able to settle for shallow emotions, shallow happinesses.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;I've had deep, deep holes dug in me long time ago and I have bigger spaces to fill. Those spaces cannot be filled with contentment. They need passion to oppress the sorrow, love to conquer the pain. So much of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;So much of them that I find, there are not many people to give it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;Not many people understand the significance of all this. Not many of them know what it is to have a scar that will hurt forever. So they don't understand what happiness is, they know contentment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-6052443961261242383?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/6052443961261242383/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=6052443961261242383' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6052443961261242383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6052443961261242383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/what-makes-sense-to-some-is-choosing.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-1782077666478102034</id><published>2011-02-17T14:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T14:46:42.509-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Black</title><content type='html'>I know someday you'll have a beautiful life&lt;br /&gt;I know you'll be a star in somebody else's sky&lt;br /&gt;But why can't it be mine?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam iyi demiş.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-1782077666478102034?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/1782077666478102034/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=1782077666478102034' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1782077666478102034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1782077666478102034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/black.html' title='Black'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-3342871754215972954</id><published>2011-02-16T11:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T11:10:34.734-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Mantıklı bi insan falan zannediyorlar ya beni, yalan o. Duyguları üzerinde hiçbir hakimiyet kuramayan zavallı bi insanım ben.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-3342871754215972954?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/3342871754215972954/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=3342871754215972954' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3342871754215972954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3342871754215972954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/mantkl-bi-insan-falan-zannediyorlar-ya.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-2323610173517372397</id><published>2011-02-15T15:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T15:31:44.998-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dig deeper. deeper.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;1. Now I have to hide in a place I don't belong&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Lose myself in an empty crowd&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I won't hear the voices, get lost in songs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Loud enough to silence my thoughts&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I'll sing to make it all go away&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I'll sing about something else&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I'll sing with people I don't know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I never belonged there&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;But now I don't belong in here &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I just want to disappear.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Today the place I know&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Took away my joy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I wish I hadn't known them at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;They don't care if I'm there&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Cause I always sit right at that spot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Even the frown on my face&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Doesn't make them notice&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;But I remember the days they cared&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Can people change?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;All the pleasure turned into pain&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It's no use trying to console myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Envying the people I see everyday&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Lost in something they care about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;2. All the things you do, I see right through&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;Sadly, I care enough to wonder.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Took away my peace of mind&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Now I must bear restless nights&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; My mind never stops asking&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; A race of thoughts in my head&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Can't pick out a word that makes sense&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I don't even make sense to myself&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; The only balance I find is in loneliness&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; How can consistency hurt more everyday?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-2323610173517372397?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/2323610173517372397/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=2323610173517372397' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2323610173517372397'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2323610173517372397'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/dig-deeper-deeper.html' title='Dig deeper. deeper.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-776206591916558882</id><published>2011-02-15T15:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T15:23:46.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>En son ağladığımın üzerinden o kadar aylar geçti ki, göz yaşı kanallarımın kuruduğuna baya baya inanmıştım. Bugüne kadar...&lt;br /&gt;Gene salya sümük olamadım, gene öyle içimdekilerin çeyreği bile çıkamadı dışarı.&lt;br /&gt;Güzel bi ağlama değildi. Sinirden, üzgünlükten, kızgınlıktan, isyan etmek isteyip edememekten, haksızlığa uğramaktan ağlayınca rahatlamıyormuş insan. Özellikle de çaresizlikten.&lt;br /&gt;Küçücük bi ayarla oynandı ve hayatımda her şey alt üst oldu resmen ya. Ve ben bunu bugün fark edebildim. Bugün bi anda, ne kadar çok şeyin değiştiğini fark ettim. Bakışım değişti. Bambaşka görüyorum her gün gördüğüm şeyleri birkaç saattir. O kadar saçma geliyor ki. O kadar gereksiz. O kadar haksızlığa uğruyormuşum, her gün uğruyormuşum ve farkına bile varmıyormuşum gibi geliyor ki.&lt;br /&gt;Her şey küçük bir ayar dediğim şeyden mi oluyor, yoksa o sadece gözümü mü açtı bilmiyorum. Hormonal bozukluklar başladı da gene manik depresif mi oldum, onu da bilmiyorum. Atarlı giderli bi kız oldum, o kesin de. Haksız olduğumu düşünmüyorum ya.&lt;br /&gt;İşin kötüsü, ben atar yapsam içimden geldiği gibi, "kız işte" diyecekler.&lt;br /&gt;O kadar çok şey geliyor ki içimden, hepsi saçma.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-776206591916558882?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/776206591916558882/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=776206591916558882' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/776206591916558882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/776206591916558882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/en-son-agladgmn-uzerinden-o-kadar-aylar.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-8719572214864069705</id><published>2011-02-14T15:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T15:08:54.718-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So I don't know what I'll do if you just move away.&lt;br /&gt;And when we move farther, you just forget it all.&lt;br /&gt;What if you easily move on?&lt;br /&gt;And I'm left here with my feelings, alone.&lt;br /&gt;So I don't know what I'd do if you just let go of it all.&lt;br /&gt;And when we can't see each other anymore&lt;br /&gt;What will I do?&lt;br /&gt;How will I hang on through this?&lt;br /&gt;Oh, please don't leave it all on me.&lt;br /&gt;Please don't make me deal with all the ruins.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not strong enough to fight my feelings.&lt;br /&gt;I know you can, but help me while I&lt;br /&gt;Cry over this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-8719572214864069705?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/8719572214864069705/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=8719572214864069705' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8719572214864069705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8719572214864069705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/so-i-dont-know-what-ill-do-if-you-just.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-4069601050481031340</id><published>2011-02-13T16:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T16:29:54.705-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ben dev bir dallamayım.</title><content type='html'>Aslında Sen dev bir dallamasın diyecektim ama fark ettim ki dallama olan benim. Mantığıyla duygularını bastıramayan, ne istediğini bilmeyen, artıları eksileri tartamayan, gerizekalı bir varlığım ben.&lt;br /&gt;Her şeyi bu adını koyamadığım şey uğruna hiçe saymak, riske atmak istiyorum. Her şey epik olsun, masalsı olsun, hayatım biraz daha roman gibi olsun diye uğraşıyorum.&lt;br /&gt;Hayatta çabaladığım tek şey bu belki de, romanlaştırmak.&lt;br /&gt;Çünkü her hayat bir roman değildir aslında. Ya da bazıları postmoderndir. Ben post modern bir roman istemiyorum. Ben Wordsworth'un, Charlotte Bronte'nin, Thomas Hardy'nin karakterlerinden olmak istiyorum.&lt;br /&gt;E tabii Thomas Hardy'nin karakteri olmak istiyorum dersen, bunlar gelir başına. Sue gibi bir şey olursun. (Bilmeyenler için: Jude the Obscure süper bir kitaptır, biraz uzun ama)&lt;br /&gt;Ama ben aradığım derinliği ancak o engellerde, o acıda, o ikilemlerde bulabiliyorum. Engelsiz ulaşılan hedef, ne kadar değerli olabilir ki?&lt;br /&gt;Şimdi her türlü engeli barındıran bir hedefim var. Ulaşmamam gereken bir hedef resmen. Olmamalı çünkü. Mantıklı değil. Ama mantığımla tartmıyorum artık bir şeyleri. Gitti o insan. İçinden gelen her şeyin "geçerli" olduğuna inanan biriyim. Hayat çok daha zor oluyor böyle ve ben zor olan her şeyi istemeye devam ediyorum. Onda bile gidip en zorunu buldum. Ne hıyarım ben ya.&lt;br /&gt;Kendi mutluluğuma engel bir insanım ben. Bir de o var engel. Yani bir de bir sürü engel var işte. Ama neden kendini mazoşistçe daha da içine sürüklersin ki tüm bunların? Aklını kullanıp, evet, bunlar olmamalı, tamam, uzaklaş diyemiyorsun kendine?&lt;br /&gt;Çünkü ben dev bir dallamayım.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-4069601050481031340?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/4069601050481031340/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=4069601050481031340' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4069601050481031340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4069601050481031340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/ben-dev-bir-dallamaym.html' title='Ben dev bir dallamayım.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-5539899487996488319</id><published>2011-02-13T06:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-13T06:18:21.695-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rüyada klon görmek?</title><content type='html'>Yine süper bir rüya gördüm. Her şey şöyle başlıyor: balkonumda oturuyorum mutlu mesut. Sonra bir kedi buluyorum evde aa ne şeker falan diye laylaylay severken kediyi bi bakıyorum odam kedi dolu. Babam "Yine mi yaa?" gibi bi tepki veriyor. Evi KEDİ BASMIŞ. Ama kedi basmış derken, bu su basması gibi bişey yani o kadar normal ki babam yine mi yaa falan diyor. Bu esnada benim bir klonum var. Macbook'umun çok işe yarar bir şey olduğunu biliyordum ama bunu da yaratmış, helal olsun diyorum. Fakat benim delete tuşuna basınca onun gitmesi lazım. Gidiyor tekrar geliyor. Kurtulamıyorum klondan. Bir de kendi karakterini geliştiriyor piç, dalga geçiyor benle falan. Off çok korkunçtu.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-5539899487996488319?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/5539899487996488319/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=5539899487996488319' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/5539899487996488319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/5539899487996488319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/ruyada-klon-gormek.html' title='Rüyada klon görmek?'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-8158482020736426573</id><published>2011-02-12T14:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-12T14:08:21.321-08:00</updated><title type='text'>*</title><content type='html'>Mutual acceptance of a certain situation.&lt;br /&gt;Then nothing.&lt;br /&gt;Mutual acceptance of the feeling?&lt;br /&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;Just something out of control.&lt;br /&gt;Something shallow.&lt;br /&gt;The depth would ruin everything.&lt;br /&gt;We don't say.&lt;br /&gt;Mutual desire?&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;What I desire?&lt;br /&gt;I know well.&lt;br /&gt;So what is it dear,&lt;br /&gt;That you so deeply desire?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-8158482020736426573?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/8158482020736426573/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=8158482020736426573' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8158482020736426573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8158482020736426573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/blog-post.html' title='*'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-9124473083862980956</id><published>2011-02-11T06:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-11T06:09:11.889-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rüya</title><content type='html'>Rüyamda Chris Martin bizim okula geliyordu, koroyla konser verecekler falan.&lt;br /&gt;Bundan önce esas olan şey bi aile olayı yaşanacak, benim yıllardır görmediğim arkadaşım (aile dostu) Batu da orda. Sonra öyle bi yere gidiyoruz ki benim elbise almam gerekiyo ama en yakında sadece Beymenvari bir yer var ve cok pahalı. Babam bir sürü para veriyor ben kat kat dolaşıyorum mağazayı. Hiçbir şey bulamıyorum anormal olmayan. Yürüyen merdivenlerde koşuyorum falan. Ondan sonra diyorum ki ben danışmaya gideyim. Danışmada Ozan var. Atarlı giderli bi halde. Diyorum Ozan her yere baktım elbise bulamıyorum çok acil almam lazım hiç vaktim yok. En üst kata baktın mı diyor. En üst kat da starstrike mı ne öyle bişi. Marka mı neyse artık. Hayır diyorum. O zaman oraya bak diyor. Çıkıyorum en üste, sadece kitaplar var. Bir de normal günlük kıyafetler. Çıldırdım çıldırıcam böyle, o vaziyet.&lt;br /&gt;Sonra bi anda okulda Gkm'de sahnedeyim ve ayağım sakat. Herkes nasıl dalga geçiyor ayağım sakat diye.&lt;br /&gt;Hatta o alışveriş merkezinde de benle dalga geçiyorlar ayağım kırık diye sonra bi kadın beni yerden kaldırıp film sahnesi gibi ders veriyo etrafa kızıyo falan.&lt;br /&gt;Neyse. Tipim de bok gibi, gözümde gözlük abuk subuk kıyafetler, ayağımda alçı falan. Karşımda Chris Martin. Hayır Coldplay'in öbür üyeleri de var ama ben hiç iplemediğim için...Koro şefi hiç hayatımda görmediğim bi insan ve ben Fix You'yu ben söyleyeceğim sanıyorum. O diyor ki ben söyleyeceğim. Sonra beni ve birkaç kişiyi işaret ederek siz de eşlik edeceksiniz diyor.&lt;br /&gt;Bu arada hatırladığım bu şarkı faslı olmadan önce bi tiyatro olayı var. Bi tiyatro hazırlamışız heralde. Ben sahneye geç çıkıyorum ve ortadan çıkıyorum. Sonra tam repliğimi söyleyecekken sesim kısılıyor. Repliği de sallıyorum zaten. Rüya olduğu için ordaki tiyatronun contexti hakkında bi bilgim yok.&lt;br /&gt;Neyse biz böyle 5 kişi falan sahnenin önüne diziliyoruz. Fix you söyleyeceğiz. Sonra da çıkıp Chris söyleyecek canımın içi. Ben ayağımda alçı, sallanıyorum falan. Bu arada babam da izliyor.&lt;br /&gt;Buralarda &amp;nbsp;boşluklar var. Sonra Chris sahneye geliyor. Bi de arada Türkçe konuştuğuna eminim. Çünkü bu biraz önce Türkçe mi konuştu? diye düşünüyorum rüyamda sürekli farklı algılamayıp.&lt;br /&gt;Piyanosunu kuruluyo böyle falan. Kendi piyanonu mu getirdin diyorum. Evet diyor. Niye diyorum? Sizde ne vardı bilmiyorum bu Baldwin diyor. Ben de Steinway var gayet falan diyorum:D Sonra orada kimsenin aklına gelmeyen şey benim aklıma geliyor. İmza attırmak adama! Orada bir Teen Vogue dergisi buluyorum nasıl oluyorsa, ordan kozmetik bölümünden bir sayfa koparıp bir imza atar mısın diyorum. Adam fazla cool, irite edici şekilde cool, cevap bile vermeden basıyor imzayı. Ama benim gözümde bir türlü bitmiyor adam yani.&lt;br /&gt;Sonra benim o alacağım elbiseye falan noldu bilmiyorum. En son Chris çalıyordu ben Fix You söylüyordum sanırım. Ama bu esnalarda kedim tarafından uyandırıldığım için, onun tadına varamadım bir türlü.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-9124473083862980956?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/9124473083862980956/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=9124473083862980956' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/9124473083862980956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/9124473083862980956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/ruya.html' title='Rüya'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-2065115749515983564</id><published>2011-02-10T16:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T16:43:02.139-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You idiot. You don't get it do you? You do everything to tease me yet you just have no clue. Can you really be so ignorant? &amp;nbsp;I hate you for doing this to me. You don't see what I'm going through and I'm just there in front of you. I can't keep away. I can't keep going. I don't know what to do with what I'm feeling. &amp;nbsp;I just need you to acknowledge this. Admit it to me and yourself and then I won't bother you anymore. Just don't pretend there's nothing there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-2065115749515983564?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/2065115749515983564/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=2065115749515983564' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2065115749515983564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2065115749515983564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/you-idiot.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-7256419487157402512</id><published>2011-02-08T17:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T17:36:26.494-08:00</updated><title type='text'>eski dost.</title><content type='html'>Kötü biri değildin. Ama kötülüklerin iyiliklerini sıklıkla bastırıyordu. Sana haksızlık etmiş olabilirim pek çok konuda. Ama bildiklerimi bilmiyorsun. Baktığın yerden kendini madur durumda görmen kolay. Çünkü bilmiyorsun.&lt;br /&gt;Yine de, arada aklıma geliyorsun. Çünkü kötü biri değilsin. Ama güvenilebilir de değilmişsin. Senin hikayendeki kötü adam olmak tuhaf geliyor doğrusu. Çünkü kendini buna hakikaten inandırıyorsun. Ama adaletli olsana bi? Gerçekten ayıp eden sen değil misin aslında?&lt;br /&gt;Şimdi öyle bir durum var ki, öyle olmadığını bildiğim halde %100 suçlu hissediyorum kendimi. Senin aylar yıllar önce olduğunu sandığın şey, şimdi gerçekleşti. O zaman yanılıyordun. Öğrendiğimde sana küfürler basmakta haklıydım. Şimdi sadece seni haklı çıkardım. Haklı olmadığın halde.&lt;br /&gt;Hayatımdan çıktığına bu kadar sevinemezdim şu an. Çünkü yüzüne bakamazdım. Her konuda haklıydım. Hala öyle olmama rağmen, bunun aksini herkese kanıtlayabilirsin şu an. Bana bile.&lt;br /&gt;Ama hayatımdan çıkmasaydın, olur muydu bunlar bilmiyorum. Arkadaşı "can" diye gören biri olarak, hissetsem de bastırırdım, bilsem de duymazdım sanırım. Sen olsan, aynı fedakarlığı yapmazdın, ona da eminim.&lt;br /&gt;Eğer beni kötü adam yapmak, seni büyütecekse, kötü adam olurum ben. Anlayamadığın şeyleri açıklaştıracaksa, kötü adam olurum ben. Hem ne fark eder ki? Sen beni anlayamasan da, tanımasan da, iftira atsan da... Lafların kimse için değerli değil ki.&lt;br /&gt;Ama şimdi vicdan, korkunç hissettiriyor. Haksızdın evet. Eminim bundan. O kadar eminim ki...&lt;br /&gt;Bugün olsa haklı olacaktın ya, işte o koyuyor. İşte o her gece kabus görmeme sebep oluyor. Aklıma gelmene sebep oluyor.&lt;br /&gt;Bu kadar kirli bir vicdanı da bir tek sen anlardın ya aslında. Bir tek senle denk olabiliriz bu konuda. Yediğimiz boklar aynı kıvamda ne de olsa.&lt;br /&gt;Düşünüyorum da, seni bu kadar kınarken, senden ne farkım var ki aslında?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-7256419487157402512?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/7256419487157402512/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=7256419487157402512' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7256419487157402512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7256419487157402512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/eski-dost.html' title='eski dost.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-1786009001993899316</id><published>2011-02-08T17:17:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T17:17:27.691-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You won't know.&lt;br /&gt;You won't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-1786009001993899316?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/1786009001993899316/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=1786009001993899316' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1786009001993899316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1786009001993899316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/you-wont-know_08.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-2944086867890589368</id><published>2011-02-08T17:17:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T17:17:27.211-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>You won't know.&lt;br /&gt;You won't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-2944086867890589368?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/2944086867890589368/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=2944086867890589368' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2944086867890589368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2944086867890589368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/you-wont-know.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-2129065820970034920</id><published>2011-02-08T06:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T06:23:23.740-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Morning</title><content type='html'>Morning! It's 4.18 p.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been battling with nightmares. It's bad enough I have to deal with them in real life, but I can't even have peace in my dreams. It's not nightmares. It's reality. Can't find peace, anywhere.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday one of my best friends wrote to me : "You should be happy now. It's time you were happy. I really really want you to be." I guess those were one of the sweetest things one has ever said to me. I felt like crying and had nothing to write back. He is right. But I'm done waiting. I'm done hoping for the "moment" to come. Because I thought I had found it a million times and I was never right. That moment might never come. I'm killing the pollyanna inside. And I'm done. I'm done waiting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-2129065820970034920?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/2129065820970034920/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=2129065820970034920' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2129065820970034920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2129065820970034920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/another-morning.html' title='Another Morning'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-7700666902391564805</id><published>2011-02-07T16:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T16:38:26.945-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wrong?</title><content type='html'>I thought maybe, if I could believe in it strong enough, it could be.&lt;br /&gt;I thought two wrongs could make a right.&lt;br /&gt;But I guess there are too many faults to survive.&lt;br /&gt;Not enough rights to surpass it all.&lt;br /&gt;Once again I thought this was the moment.&lt;br /&gt;It's the hundredth time I'm wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I expect too much from me.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'm just supposed to be alone.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I've used up all my chances.&lt;br /&gt;Cause I feel I've run out of hope.&lt;br /&gt;I look back and I still don't get what was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;I look back and I just feel sad.&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm just gonna give up o this.&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired of trying for nothing.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not mad. Not at the world.&lt;br /&gt;So many stories, all end the same.&lt;br /&gt;I'll just acknowledge my fate.&lt;br /&gt;Just let me be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-7700666902391564805?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/7700666902391564805/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=7700666902391564805' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7700666902391564805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7700666902391564805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/wrong.html' title='Wrong?'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-1267392926518456914</id><published>2011-02-05T20:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T20:13:08.974-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>How inviting, impossible is.&lt;br /&gt;How insane it makes me.&lt;br /&gt;How nothing else matters.&lt;br /&gt;While impossible exists.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-1267392926518456914?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/1267392926518456914/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=1267392926518456914' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1267392926518456914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1267392926518456914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/how-inviting-impossible-is.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-1595432099346473623</id><published>2011-02-05T20:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T20:00:19.073-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sanırım her şey kafamda.&lt;br /&gt;Her şey uydurmaca.&lt;br /&gt;Bu kadar ince dokuma yalanlar da söyleyebiliyorum kendime.&lt;br /&gt;Kandırdın kendini yine.&lt;br /&gt;Aferin.&lt;br /&gt;Değmiyor saniyelik mutluluklarına.&lt;br /&gt;Anlat bunu kendine artık.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-1595432099346473623?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/1595432099346473623/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=1595432099346473623' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1595432099346473623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1595432099346473623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/sanrm-her-sey-kafamda.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-2541391917840882002</id><published>2011-02-05T18:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T18:18:02.621-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>İnsanları en içten hayallerinden, isteklerinden utandıran bu düzenden nefret ediyorum, nefret!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-2541391917840882002?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/2541391917840882002/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=2541391917840882002' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2541391917840882002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2541391917840882002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/insanlar-en-icten-hayallerinden.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-2850445866312825241</id><published>2011-02-03T15:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T15:32:39.975-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Protect me from what I want...</title><content type='html'>Brian Molko der ki;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #888888; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Tahoma; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #888888; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Tahoma; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;pre style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #f4cccc;"&gt;Maybe we're victims of fate&lt;br /&gt;Remember when we'd celebrate&lt;br /&gt;We'd drink and get high until late&lt;br /&gt;And now we're all alone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wedding bells ain't gonna chime&lt;br /&gt;With both of us guilty of crime&lt;br /&gt;And both of us sentenced to time&lt;br /&gt;And now we're all alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Belki de haklıdır...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-2850445866312825241?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/2850445866312825241/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=2850445866312825241' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2850445866312825241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2850445866312825241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/protect-me-from-what-i-want.html' title='Protect me from what I want...'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-7373826885487434386</id><published>2011-02-03T13:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T18:21:17.428-08:00</updated><title type='text'>...</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;But you know,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;It's not as big as it sounds.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;You know,&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;It's something else we're running from.&lt;/i&gt;&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/5258542323974904308-7373826885487434386?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/7373826885487434386/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=7373826885487434386' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7373826885487434386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7373826885487434386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/02/another-life.html' title='...'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-6690606302379967772</id><published>2011-01-30T05:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T05:13:32.537-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Morning</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/TUVj5JI9A1I/AAAAAAAAAD0/N8EfSDL0gAk/s1600/images.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="152" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/TUVj5JI9A1I/AAAAAAAAAD0/N8EfSDL0gAk/s200/images.jpeg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ertesi gün okul olmasa bile pazar sabahlarının farkını hissediyor insan. Sadece o gerilim yok, öff yarın böyle kalkamayacağım diye bir gün önceden gerilmek yok.&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kR_a1tX89BI"&gt; In November Sunlight &lt;/a&gt;dinliyorum hala. Hakikaten dinlemek lazım.&lt;br /&gt;Bugün çok önemli bir gün aslında yahu. Klavye alacağım!!!! Sonunda. Hiçbir ıvır zıvır beni bu kadar mutlu edemez. Zaten maddi olarak bu kadar çok manevi anlam taşıyabilen tek şey enstrümandır bence. Kimisi için fotoğraf makinesidir, kimisi için kitaptır ama benim için hepsinden önce enstrümandır ya.&lt;br /&gt;Kendi gitarımı aldığım günü asla unutamam. Lise 2 gençliğinin verdiği "çılgınlıkla" kafamda manyak manyak şeyler vardı. X kasa alabilirdim, rengarenk bir gitar alabilirdim, belki James Hetfield'ın custom gitarını alırdım. Kafamda hiç normal sade bir gitar yoktu. Ama nedense dükkana girer girmez siyah dümdüz bir gitarı denemek istedim. Daha o gitar alma hikayesinin ilk gitarıydı o deneyeceğim. Çok fazla çalmadım. Oynadım biraz sonra aldım kucağıma sevdim gitarı resmen. Oraya onun yarısı kadar ucuz bir şeyler almaya gitmiştik aslında. Ama babam gitarla aşk yaşadığımı görünce dayanamadı :) Ondan sonra daha pahalılarını denedim, bu çok daha iyidir süperdir dediklerini denedim, hiçbirini beğenemedim. Resmen gitar beni seçmişti, ben onu değil. Benim olmalıydı. Hatta belki orada dururken de benimdi. Daha iyi bir gitar olamazdı. Eve getirince karşıma alıp gitarı seyretmiştim. "Bu benim gitarım" cümlesini kafama yeteri kadar yerleştirmeye, gitarı özümsemeye çalışmıştım. Hala da bazen "bu benim gitarım lan..." diye geçer kafamdan ki, 4 sene oldu onu alalı.&lt;br /&gt;Gariptir bunu yaşamayan insan anlayamaz. Enstrüman çalan bile anlayamayabilir. O aleti bulmuş olmak lazım anlamak için sanırım.&lt;br /&gt;Klavyede bu kadar şanslı olacak mıyım bilmiyorum. Bu sefer gerçekten bir fiyat kısıtlaması var çünkü. Ayrıca klavyeden anlamak da lazım. Ben gene hislerime güveneceğim galiba :)&lt;br /&gt;Ama o kadar mutluyum ki, bir de onu alıp eve getirince nasıl hissedeceğimi düşünüyorum da...&lt;br /&gt;Müziği ne kadar çok sevdiğimi unutmuşum biliyor musun? Müziğe ne kadar ihtiyacım olduğunu unutmuşum. Müzik yapmak... Yapmaya çalışmak bile olsa... Çalmayı çok özlemişim, her gün çaldığım halde, o tadı unutarak çalıyormuşum. Garip bir şey. Yeniden kavuştum o heyecana çok mutluyum. Ne kadar iyi olduğumun, ne kadar çalabilip çalamadığımın hiçbir önemi olmadan, sadece keyif almayı unutmuştum çünkü. Sadece kendimi geliştirmem gerektiğini ve yeteri kadar iyi olmadığımı düşünüyordum. Aslında ne zaman yeteri kadar iyi olunur ki? Hep daha iyisi vardır müzikte. O zaman keyif almak lazım çaldığından. Bunlar ilk defa kafamdan geçiyor ama ben o aydınlanmayı sözsüz bir şekilde yaşamışım içimde ki, aynı keyfi alabiliyorum bir süredir.&lt;br /&gt;Klavyem olacak!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-6690606302379967772?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/6690606302379967772/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=6690606302379967772' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6690606302379967772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6690606302379967772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/01/sunday-morning.html' title='Sunday Morning'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/TUVj5JI9A1I/AAAAAAAAAD0/N8EfSDL0gAk/s72-c/images.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-7996898536054092771</id><published>2011-01-29T16:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T16:32:33.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Keşifler.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Yeni keşiflerimden bir küçük buket:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Sweet Disposition - The Temper Trap&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hero - Regina Spektor&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;In November Sunlight - Soko&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/TUSxOYmEE0I/AAAAAAAAADs/Rq_X64mvIDg/s1600/Sun_Sky2.195113946.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/TUSxOYmEE0I/AAAAAAAAADs/Rq_X64mvIDg/s1600/Sun_Sky2.195113946.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/TUSxOYmEE0I/AAAAAAAAADs/Rq_X64mvIDg/s320/Sun_Sky2.195113946.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Çok sıcak da değil, soğuk da değil, ılık...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;In November Sunlight gibi bir sürü şarkı olsa keşke.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-7996898536054092771?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/7996898536054092771/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=7996898536054092771' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7996898536054092771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7996898536054092771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/01/kesifler.html' title='Keşifler.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/TUSxOYmEE0I/AAAAAAAAADs/Rq_X64mvIDg/s72-c/Sun_Sky2.195113946.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-7496759413595249453</id><published>2011-01-22T13:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-22T13:53:03.580-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dünyanın en duygusal, en güzel, enn güzel şarkılarından biri.</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/h8oTT9r9978?fs=1" width="425"&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;A warning sign,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;I missed the good part then I realized,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;I started looking and the bubble burst.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;I started looking for excuses.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;Come on in,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;I've gotta tell you what a state I'm in,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;I've gotta tell you in my loudest tones,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;That I started looking for a warning sign.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;When the truth is,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;I miss you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;Yeah the truth is,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;That I miss you so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;A warning sign,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;You came back to haunt me and I realized&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;you were an island and I passed you by,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;You were an island to discover.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;Come on in,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;I've gotta tell you what state I'm in,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;I've gotta tell you in my loudest tones,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;That I started looking for a warning sign.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;When the truth is,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;I miss you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;Yeah the truth is,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;That I miss you so.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;And I'm tired,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;I should not have let you go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;So I crawl back into your open arms.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;Yes, I crawl back into your open arms.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;And I crawl back into your open arms.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #fff2cc;"&gt;Yes, I crawl back into your open arms...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-7496759413595249453?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/7496759413595249453/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=7496759413595249453' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7496759413595249453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7496759413595249453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/01/dunyann-en-duygusal-en-guzel-enn-guzel.html' title='Dünyanın en duygusal, en güzel, enn güzel şarkılarından biri.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/h8oTT9r9978/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-9151570470099102294</id><published>2011-01-18T11:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T11:12:03.873-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Kırılmışlıkların kokusu, kurtulmanın ümidini bastırıyor. Tüm olasılıklardan uzaklaştırıyor beni geçmiş olanlar. Zaman geçtikçe canlar bitiyor. Şanslar bitiyor. Seyretmeye alıştım gerçi.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-9151570470099102294?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/9151570470099102294/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=9151570470099102294' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/9151570470099102294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/9151570470099102294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/01/krlmslklarn-kokusu-kurtulmann-umidini.html' title=''/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-4772478246398032471</id><published>2011-01-18T11:09:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T11:09:36.530-08:00</updated><title type='text'>old reminiscents</title><content type='html'>And your beautiful words torture me.&lt;br /&gt;Because I want to say them back to you.&lt;br /&gt;But I can't.&lt;br /&gt;I just can't.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-4772478246398032471?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/4772478246398032471/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=4772478246398032471' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4772478246398032471'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4772478246398032471'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/01/old-reminiscents.html' title='old reminiscents'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-62387406798653601</id><published>2011-01-17T10:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T10:32:37.916-08:00</updated><title type='text'>....</title><content type='html'>Being the ultimate dreamer, I take it as a bad sign that I cannot find anything to dream about.&lt;br /&gt;My dreams bore me now. &amp;nbsp;My previous dreams, now I have to space to actualize and I don't.&lt;br /&gt;For no reason. They just don't seem that important anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Nothing feels worse and better than to merely exist.&lt;br /&gt;It bores me to death but nothing passes time faster. It's not like there is a destination. There isn't. I just have to enjoy whatever I'm going through at this point.&lt;br /&gt;I literally have &lt;i&gt;nothing &lt;/i&gt;to get done. I have plenty of time in my hands to fill as I want.&lt;br /&gt;I just don't know what I want.&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I do but I'm too lazy to get it done.&lt;br /&gt;Well I just thought of something great to do. The only cure. The only...&lt;br /&gt;I'll stop this writing and go do that now.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry..&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-62387406798653601?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/62387406798653601/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=62387406798653601' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/62387406798653601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/62387406798653601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post.html' title='....'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-1598132527543530384</id><published>2011-01-14T14:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-14T14:29:41.170-08:00</updated><title type='text'>While My Guitar Gently Weeps</title><content type='html'>Bu aralar inanılmaz şekilde Beatles'a takmış durumdayım. Bu yazıyı yazarken de "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" dinliyorum, herkes de dinlesin istiyorum. Bence herkes bu şarkıyı benim sevdiğim kadar sevseydi, dünya daha güzel olurdu. Buna çok inanıyorum ya.&lt;br /&gt;Bugün durup dururken bu sene ne kadar da değiştiğimi düşündüm. Ne kadar uzaklaştırdığımı insanları kendimden ve bundan ne kadar memnun olduğumu. Sorguladım da memnuniyetimi aslında. Hala sorguluyorum. Bir tarafım gerçekten o kocaman kalabalıktan kaçmış olmanın verdiği huzuru sonuna kadar yaşıyorken, bir tarafım bu tepe taklak olma durumunu yadırgıyor tabii.&lt;br /&gt;Ama tepe taklak olup yepyeni bir yere gelmiş gibi değil, aslında olmam gereken yere gelmişim gibi hissediyorum kendimi. Böyle olmalı zaten. Kendi kabuğumda olmalıyım. Kendi odamda. Beatles çalmalı işte. Sadece kendimle kurabildiğim o diyaloglar hep sürebilmeli. Ben While My Guitar Gently Weeps'te hep bunu hissetmeliyim. Kendi kendime olmalıyım. Ve sadece kabuğu kırabilenlerle.&lt;br /&gt;Bir yandan büyümüş değil yaşlanmış gibi hissediyorum hakikaten. İnsanların daha hala bıkamadığı, yeterince doyamadığı şeylerden çok çabuk bıktım. Saçmalıklarını çok çabuk anladım. Belki daha boş daha laylaylom takılsaydım, daha genç hissedecektim kendimi. Ama o paradoks hep var işte. Hep de çocuk gibi hissediyorum. Hiç büyümemişim gibi. Hala duyduğum her şeyi, gerçekten yapmam gereken zaman için not alıyormuşum gibi.&lt;br /&gt;Bu yazıya bir gazla başlamıştım da. Kaçtı şimdi o.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;The Beatles-Something (You're asking me will my love grow. I don't know! I don't know! ne güzel demiş!)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-1598132527543530384?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/1598132527543530384/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=1598132527543530384' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1598132527543530384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1598132527543530384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/01/while-my-guitar-gently-weeps.html' title='While My Guitar Gently Weeps'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-8555805105049114206</id><published>2011-01-11T14:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T14:18:37.165-08:00</updated><title type='text'>son zamanlarda dinlediğim en güzel şarkı</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 16px;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;Norah Jones-Belle and Sebastian, Little Lou Ugly Jack Prophet John&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a waste, I could’ve been your lover&lt;br /&gt;What a waste, I could’ve been your friend&lt;br /&gt;Perfect love is like a blossom that fades so quick&lt;br /&gt;When it’s blowing up a storm in May&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;Travel south until your skin turns, woman&lt;br /&gt;Travel south until your skin turns brown&lt;br /&gt;Put a language in your head and get on a train&lt;br /&gt;And then come back to the one you love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah you’re great, you’re just part of this lifetime of dreaming&lt;br /&gt;That extends to the heart of this long summer feeling&lt;br /&gt;Quiet night, you see the tv’s glowing&lt;br /&gt;Quiet night, you hear the walls are awake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;Being you I’m getting out of a party crowd&lt;br /&gt;Can I see what’s underneath your bed?&lt;br /&gt;Can I stay until the milkman’s working?&lt;br /&gt;Can I stay until the cafe awakes?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;Do you hate me in the light?&lt;br /&gt;Did you get a fright?&lt;br /&gt;When you looked across from where you lay&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;Yeah you’re great, you’re just part of this lifetime of dreaming&lt;br /&gt;That extends to the heart of this long summer feeling&lt;br /&gt;All the history of wars I invent in my head&lt;br /&gt;Little Lou, Ugly Jack, Prophet John&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;All the history of wars I invent in my head&lt;br /&gt;Little Lou, Ugly Jack, Prophet John&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a waste, I could’ve been your lover&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a waste, I could’ve been your friend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 1em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: normal;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #b45f06;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-8555805105049114206?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/8555805105049114206/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=8555805105049114206' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8555805105049114206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8555805105049114206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/01/son-zamanlarda-dinledigim-en-guzel-sark.html' title='son zamanlarda dinlediğim en güzel şarkı'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-8191963888913844329</id><published>2011-01-06T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T11:42:32.694-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sounds of Laughter</title><content type='html'>I'm stubborn but not as much as life.&lt;br /&gt;It fights back and I'm no one to win.&lt;br /&gt;It's powerful.&lt;br /&gt;So powerful that wants me to fight back just for fun.&lt;br /&gt;Life likes submission.&lt;br /&gt;Those who give in to the current are lucky.&lt;br /&gt;They don't have a chance of failing.&lt;br /&gt;Those who try hard have to risk it.&lt;br /&gt;Failures are teaching me supposedly.&lt;br /&gt;But I think they are tearing me apart.&lt;br /&gt;I start over, from nothing.&lt;br /&gt;Because sometimes life just ignores my efforts.&lt;br /&gt;Makes fun of me.&lt;br /&gt;I can almost hear it laughing.&lt;br /&gt;There...&lt;br /&gt;The sounds of laughter from somewhere I can't reach&lt;br /&gt;But so close as they are in my head only.&lt;br /&gt;If I could just break into my own head!&lt;br /&gt;Oh, it doesn't stop.&lt;br /&gt;It never does, does it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-8191963888913844329?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/8191963888913844329/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=8191963888913844329' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8191963888913844329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8191963888913844329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/01/sounds-of-laughter.html' title='Sounds of Laughter'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-6632224670248028754</id><published>2011-01-02T15:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-02T15:06:55.381-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Radikal Kararlar</title><content type='html'>Kendine saygısı olan, kendisine dikkat eden insanları ne kadar takdir ettiğimi bilmeme rağmen, kendime hiçbir şekilde dikkat etmediğimi daha yeni fark etmem beni baya bir sarsmış durumda. Kendime, bedenime, vakit ayırmıyorum resmen. Üşengeçliğin de getirdiği bir şey bu tabii ama böyle olmamalı. Bu duruma el attım. Uzun zamandır bu kadar gaza gelmemiştim. Tablolar yapıldı, yapılacak şeyler belirlendi. İşin güzel tarafı, zaman var çünkü okul yok. Bu sefer yapacağımı söylediğim her şeyi ertelememe fırsat bırakmadan yapmayı düşünüyorum. Bunların içinde kabuslarım olan, jinekolog ve dişçi de var. Kıçımı kaldırıp sonunda spor yapmak, gırtlağıma hakim olmak zaten fix menü. Eskisine göre değişik olan, keyfimi de düşündüm bu planları yaparken. Masaja gideceğimi de yazdım planlarımın arasına, cilt bakımını da yazdım. Tiyatro da yazdım, konser de yazdım. Şimdilik 1 aylık (a4'e o kadar sığdı) bir program var elimde. Buna uysam, 1 ay sonra ne kadar daha mutlu olacağımı biliyorum. Aslında böyle söyleyince, çok basit bir denklem bu. Öyleyse uyacağım aldığım kararlara. Çok uzun da değil 1 ay. Bu tablo bitince, bir 15 günlük tablo daha yapacağım, okul açılana kadar hiç değilse. Okula yenilenmiş bir enerjiyle gitmek daha güzel olacak tabii. Şu miskinliği üzerimden atmam şart. Oha kızım, çok güzel olacak yalnız!!! Şimdiden heyecanlı!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-6632224670248028754?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/6632224670248028754/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=6632224670248028754' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6632224670248028754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6632224670248028754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2011/01/radikal-kararlar.html' title='Radikal Kararlar'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-509381320448294785</id><published>2010-12-22T14:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-22T14:21:06.380-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The day that they had coffee</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;The day that they had coffee, she went home with contentment and he went home with less load.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;And the day he went away with someone else, was the day she stayed behind without even the remnants of the contentment that she had attained that day when they had coffee.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-509381320448294785?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/509381320448294785/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=509381320448294785' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/509381320448294785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/509381320448294785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/12/day-that-they-had-coffee.html' title='The day that they had coffee'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-6807276992888692687</id><published>2010-12-16T13:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-16T13:29:37.836-08:00</updated><title type='text'>16.12.10</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;I was standing alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;You didn't stop by me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;You just passed by&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Threw me a smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;You broke my heart&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;And you went by.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-6807276992888692687?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/6807276992888692687/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=6807276992888692687' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6807276992888692687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6807276992888692687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/12/161210.html' title='16.12.10'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-58091472209693867</id><published>2010-12-08T05:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T05:23:54.141-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Şehirden indim köye.</title><content type='html'>Paris'ten dönmüş bulunmaktayım dün akşam saat 6buçuk itibariyle. Nereden başlasam acaba?&lt;br /&gt;Öncelikle Paris'i bir de bu yaşta, bu kafayla, daha fazla kültür, daha fazla sanat bilgisiyle görmek, Paris'i daha çok anlamak, daha da çok sevmek, ve daha çok özleyecek olmak anlamına geliyormuş. Aynı zamanda, İstanbul'dan bu kadar hoşlanmadığım, insanlardan bu kadar nefret ettiğim ve estetik açlığımın tavan yaptığı bir dönemde Paris gibi, nereye baksan sanat, estetik, güzellik ve medeniyet gördüğün bir yere gitmek, açıkçası, ilaç gibi geliyormuş.&lt;br /&gt;Hayatımda yaya geçidinden geçmenin beni bu kadar mutlu edeceğini söyleseler çok da inanmazdım herhalde. Çünkü orada kurallar, uygulanmak için. İnsanlarda "prosedür gereği kurallar vardır, biz uymayız" mantığı yok. Kuralın uyulması gereken bir şey olduğunu ve bunun onların avantajına olduğunu biliyorlar. Normali de bu zaten. Fazıl Say'a burda saygılarımı sunarak ben de söylemek istiyorum ki, ben de Türk insanının arabesk yavşaklığından utanıyorum. Hem de çok utanıyorum. Avrupadaki düzen, organizasyon, medeniyet ve bir taraftan da burdaki kaos, her gün ayrı bir savaş, kural tanımazlık, barbarlık, hayanlık, çirkinlik, fotoğrafını çektiğin her karedeki mizahla tolare etmeye artık tahamülümün kalmadığı saçmalıklar...&lt;br /&gt;Paris'lilerin antipatik olduğunu söyleyen Türk insanı ve diğer vatandaşlar da kesinlikle bunu çekememezlikten söylüyordur, eminim. Çünkü herkes son derece yardım sever, güleryüzlü ve en önemlisi herkes işini yaparken mutlu. Metroda yolumuzu kaybettiğimizde oradaki görevliye hangi hatta gitmemiz gerektiğini sorduğumuzda, adam son derece kibar bir şekilde ben sizi götüreyim diyerek bizi doğru durağa kadar bıraktı. Çünkü onun işi bu. Bizde olsa, afralar tafralar, "ben aslında daha iyi işlere layığım da işte..." zihniyeti, sanki çok abuk bir soru sormuşsun, adamı yerinden kaldırıyorsun boşu boşuna surat ifadesi, bir de anlaması güç bir tarif "şurdan düz git sağa dön orda" gibi...&lt;br /&gt;Ayrıca İngilizce de konuşuyor herkes. Eğer derdini yarım yamalak Fransızca ile anlatıp sonra İngilizce'ye kayarsan anlayabileceğin ümidiyle Fransızca konuşuyorlar sanırım, anlıyorsun da ama. Fransızca bilmiyorum dediğin an "How can I help you?" diyen güleryüzlü birisiyle muhattap oluyorsun. Hiç antipatik falan değiller kısacası. Ayrıca herkes güzel, herkes şık, "estetik algısı" işte diyorum ya. Nasıl aradığım, özlediğim, hemen her gün İstanbul'da eksikliğini çektiğim yegane şey. Kendimi buraya ait hissetmememin başlıca sebebi, her gün minibüs caddesi denen vahşete adımımı attığımda içimde oluşan "ben aslında buralı değilim, bir gün ait olduğum yere döneceğim" hissinin sebebi. Aynı zamanda, oradaki medenilik ve estetik kesinlikle kendimi oraya çok daha ait hissetmeme sebep oluyor ve bu çok acı bir şey. Çünkü oraya ait değilim ben ne kadar uğraşırsam uğraşayım oralı olamayacağım. Ama köklerime de ait değilim. Köklerimi paylaştığım, milletim dediğim insanları gördükçe utanıyor, onlarla aramda en ufak bir ortak nokta göremiyor ve buralı olmamak istiyorum. Evet küçümsüyorum Türk milletini. Küçümsüyorum çünkü ben de onlardan biriyim, hakkım var. Geri kafalılıklarını, cahilliklerini, kültüre sanata değer vermemelerini, laubaliliklerini, kural tanımazlıklarını, vahşiliklerini, kısaca evrim noktasında bir Avrupalıdan çok daha gerilerde olmalarını küçümsüyorum.&lt;br /&gt;Biraz da güzel şeylerden bahsedeyim. 3 tam günümüz vardı, biz de her sabah bir müzeye gittik. İlk gittiğimiz Orsay Müzesi'ydi ve harikaydı. Empresyonistlerle doluydu. Manetler, Monetler, Degaslar, Sisleyler, Cezanne... Yorgunluktan öle bite bütün müzeyi gezdik, bütün resimleri ve heykelleri gördük. İçimiz sanat dolu çıktık oradan. Tam bize göre bir müzeydi. Yine gitsem Paris'e yine Orsay'a bir kez giderim. Üstelik kaldığımız otele 2 duraktı. Oradan Champs Elysees'ye gittik alışveriş yaptık, George V'de şarap içtik küçücük iki kişilik masalarında. Bir sürü fotoğraf çektik. Bir banka oturup etrafı izledik. Her taraf noel süslemeleriyle doluydu ve ışıl ışıldı. Bankta oturarak sosyalleşiliyormuş orada, bunu anladık. Hayatımda herhalde ancak bir kez başıma gelecek "Before Sunrise" anı yaşandı ve ben tabii ki kaçırdım. Güzeller güzeli bir çocuk benden sigara istedi. Turist olduğumuzu anlayınca kendi deyimiyle "small talk" yapmaya çalıştı, akşam için planlarımızı sordu, biz de bön bön bakınca çocuğa biraz da tırsarak "aman yanlış anlamayın sohbet ediyorum sadece beraber bir şeyler yapalım demeye çalışmıyorum" dedi alındı. Biz yine tabi bön bön baktık. Gitti çocuk. Kaçırdım. Salağım. Fıstık gibi çocuktu üstelik İngilizcesi baya iyiydi desene salak kız, "gel beraber takılalım" diye. Mal. Malım yani. Paris'te çok güzel bir çocuk gelip senle muhabbet etmeye çalışıyor bankta otururken, sen ona tip tip bakıyorsun. Malsın tabi.&lt;br /&gt;Her neyse. Louvre'a gittik tabii. Heykeller resimlerden daha iyiydi. Resimler hep rönesans ve öncesi olduğu için çok bize hitap etmedi. Bir de modern sanat müzesine gittik, fena değildi. En güzeli Orsay'dı işte.&lt;br /&gt;St. Michel otelimize 1 duraktı ve oraya bayıldık zaten. Sürekli St. Michel St. Germain gibi yerlerdeydik. St. Michel'deki Shakespeare &amp;amp; Co'dan çıkamadık resmen. Mükemmel bir İngiliz kitapçı. Her yerde yeni eski, antika kitaplar, üst katında bir piyano, koltuklar, oturup kitap okuyanlar, orada kalanlar, yazı yazma toplantıları, kitapçının önünde banklar ve İngilizler... Kapısından çıktığında da karşında Notre Dame ve La Seine. Daha ne olabilir ki? Şu olabilir, orada, o piyanoda Yann Tiersen çalmak, ve insanların alkışlaması... Evet... Harikaydı.&lt;br /&gt;Son gün Montmartre'a gittikten sonra orada sıkıldık ve başka bir şey yapmaya karar verip 4 günde 3. kere St. Michel'e gitmeye karar verdik. Başka bir tarafından çıktık metronun ve yanlışlıkta ters yöne giderek kendimizi bir anda, arayıp bulamadığımız, gitmeden dönmek istemediğimiz Cafe de Flore'un köşesinde bulduk! Cafe de Flore, eskiden Sartre'ın Camus'nun Simone Beauvoir'ın takıldığı, buluştukları cafe ve hemen hemen her şeyi o zamanlardaki gibi! Çok güzeldi üstelik fincanlarını tabaklarını çok beğenmiştik ve öğrendik ki satıyorlarmış! Cafe de Flore'un defterini aldım ya inanılmaz bir şey! Kıyamıyorum kullanmaya, ne yazsam içine yeterince güzel olmayacakmış gibi geliyor! Harika bir final oldu bizim için Cafe de Flore.&lt;br /&gt;Dönerken ise, daha hava alanına gelir gelmez, Türkiye gerçeğiyle karşılaştık. Check in için sırada beklerken arkamızdaki kıro ötesi adam, trafikte olduğu gibi sağdan sağdan önümüze geçebileceğine inandı. Ulan insan sırası o araba da değil ki, nasıl geçeceksin yani? "Bulduğun boşluğa dal, bir sonraki adımı düşünme" mantığı işte, anlatabiliyor muyum? Gürültülü gürültülü bağıra çağıra kıro kıro konuşanlar, sırada önümüze geçip ben bir şey soracağım sadece diyen Türk adam... Türklerin olduğu check in bölümünün çılgınca kötü kokması, daha uçağa bindiğim anda suratımı kaplayan iğrenme ifadesi çünkü insanların çirkinliği ve kıroluğu... Sabiha Gökçen'e iner inmez burnuma gelen bok kokusu... Evet realiteye döndüm. Ama anılarım bu realiteyi daha tolare edilebilir hale getirecek diye düşünüyorum. Çünkü ben kafamda, hala Paris'teyim, anılarım hala çok canlı ve böyle bir şansım olduğu için de çok mutluyum ve minettarım sahip olduğum hayata, her şeye rağmen.&lt;br /&gt;Bir gün, mutlaka Paris'te yaşayacağım. Hayatımın bir bölümünü orada geçireceğim. Orada okuyacağım, Fransızca öğreneceğim.&lt;br /&gt;Hayatımın en güzel günlerini geçirdim orada. Umarım tekrar tekrar ve tekrar gidebilirim. Umarım orada olmadığım zamanlarda, İstanbul'u tolare edebilirim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-58091472209693867?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/58091472209693867/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=58091472209693867' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/58091472209693867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/58091472209693867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/12/sehirden-indim-koye.html' title='Şehirden indim köye.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-1578827827124667587</id><published>2010-11-29T15:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T15:31:13.467-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doğumgünü</title><content type='html'>Yine bir doğum günü, yine bir yaş, yine bir yıl daha...&lt;br /&gt;Ne zamana kadar önemi var? Bilmiyorum. Sanırım artık pek de önemi yok.&lt;br /&gt;18 olunca her şey duracak zannediyordum. 18 olunca, artık büyümeyeceğim 18 olarak kalacağım gibi geliyordu. Çünkü hep o yaşı bekliyordum. Ehliyet alacaktım, aldım. İstediğim yere girecektim, girdim, gördüm, sıkıldım, girmiyorum artık. Kendimden sorumlu olacaktım, şimdi bütün evrak işleri için ben koşturuyorum. 18 olmak, cüzdanımdaki kart sayısının fazlasıyla artması demek oldu. Nüfus müdürlüğüne, muhtarlığa, emniyete sayısız geziler düzenledim 18. yaşımda. Banka kuyruğu denen şeyle tanıştım, sevmedim. Türkiye'yi, hatta belki Türkiye gerçeğini, yüzleşmek zorunda kaldığım için, anlayabildim. Onu da sevmedim. Yetişkin olmak güzel değilmiş pek de. Güzellikleri de var tabii. Kendimden sorumlu olmak bir yandan da, bu yaşın hakkını verebildiğimi, yapmam gerekenleri yapabildiğimi, hayatımı daha çok sorumluluk altında idare edebildiğimi görmek, güzel. Mecbur kalmasam bunlara daha güzel olacaktı. Hep çocuk kalsaydım, sorunlarım yüzeysel kalsaydı daha güzel olacaktı. Ama yaşamış olduğum yıllara yıllar eklendikçe, sorunlar, dertler derinleşiyor, ciddileşiyor belki de. Bugünküler, yarın, öbür gün, daha çerez gelecek. Okuyorum en azından. Okul, ne kadar kötü olabilir ki? Bunun bir de, "para kazanma derdi" versiyonu var, er ya da geç karşılaşacağım.&lt;br /&gt;Büyümek büyümek ve büyümek istemek, 18i bitirip geriye bakınca o kadar saçma, o kadar anlamsız geliyor ki.&lt;br /&gt;İlk defa bir doğum günümde, kimlerin eğlenmek için, kimlerin benim için orada olduğunu anladım bu yıl. Hiç önemli de değildi doğum günüm. Hiç. Kimseyi göreyim, bir şeyler yapayım gibi bir sıkıntım yoktu. Sevdiğim ve beni seven insanları görmek için bir bahaneden öte bir şey değildi bugün. Bu cümlenin bu kadar anlamlı olacağını tahmin etmemiştim. Beni seven insanları gerçekten gördüm. Görebildim. Ayırt edebildim. Beni sevdiğini söyleyenlerden bahsetmiyorum. Seven. Ve ilk içgüdümle, "kalabalık istemiyorum!!!" diyerek ne kadar haklı olduğumu da anlamış oldum.&lt;br /&gt;Tek bir kişiyi düşündüm, arasın, mesaj atsın, kutlasın istedim. Diğerleri önemli değildi o kadar. Önemli olacaklar yanımdaydı zaten, o hariç. Kutlamadı, aramadı. Çok mu önemli aslında? Değil. Sevmediğim, nötr olmaktan öte, hazzetmediğim bir sürü insan da laf ola beri gele kutladı bugünü. Çok mu anlamlı bir şey doğum günü kutlamak? Değil. Saçma hatta. Güzel olacaktı kutlasaydı hem de güzel bir şekilde kutlasaydı. Ama kutladı diye her şey mükemmel olmayacaktı. Tamam oldu işte olmayacaktı. Kutlamadığı için de bitti bu iş tamam değil. Bunun ayırdına varmam ilginç. Normalde göremezdim bunu. Ee, 19 olduk tabii. Büyüdük.&lt;br /&gt;Doğum günü dileğim olabilirse eğer, sağlık mutluluk, sevdiklerimle birlikte olmak ve huzur dışında, bir de onun bunlara, hayatıma, mutluluklarıma, sebep ve ortak olmasını istiyorum.&lt;br /&gt;Ve sevginin, bana bilmediğim derinliklerini hissettiren, öğreten, hayatımı bu kadar güzel yapan, içi dışı bir, her şeyden daha önemli ve değerli olan ve bana da böyle hissettiren birkaç tane güzel insana, çok teşekkür ederim, varlığımı bu kadar değerliymiş gibi hissettirdikleri için. Onlar olmasa, hayat çekilmez olurdu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for making this trivial existence seem worthy and like more than what it is.&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for making this trivial existence feel so good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-1578827827124667587?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/1578827827124667587/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=1578827827124667587' title='1 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1578827827124667587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1578827827124667587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/11/dogumgunu.html' title='Doğumgünü'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-6260020430558267375</id><published>2010-11-27T10:10:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T10:10:03.965-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Child's Reverie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;The essence of life is hidden in a child's heart&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;It's hidden in the clouds, it's the hope in his eyes&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;It's the colors that the sun spreads around.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Life's at it's peak, when you and I meet&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Under the old yet strong tree&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;And make a promise, knowing none of us will keep.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;When we still want to believe it childishly,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;When we fool ourselves to believe in eternity,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;That's when this miracle can unfold and fill you.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Life's hidden in the heart of a child.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Because he believes that the blossoming flower&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Can understand him, though it can't answer.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;He believes the sun goes to sleep every night,&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;And rises each morning to wake us all up.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;He knows nothing but he feels the most.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;His naked mind is open and empty as a sheet&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;It's flawless, like the early morning sea..&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;His dreams are not yet limited by knowledge&lt;/b&gt;&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/5258542323974904308-6260020430558267375?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/6260020430558267375/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=6260020430558267375' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6260020430558267375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6260020430558267375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/11/childs-reverie.html' title='A Child&apos;s Reverie'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-7779747788080926014</id><published>2010-11-24T12:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-24T12:17:25.192-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cruz.</title><content type='html'>Bu şarkıyı yazmaktan da dinlemekten de, Christina Aguilera'dan da bıkmayacağım.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slowly drifting into the peaceful breeze.&lt;br /&gt;Tongue tied and twisted are all my memories.&lt;br /&gt;Celebrating a fantasy a come true&lt;br /&gt;Packing all my bags, finally on the move.&lt;br /&gt;I'm leaving today. I'm living it. I'm leaving it to change.&lt;br /&gt;As I'm driving I'm captured by the view.&lt;br /&gt;So much beauty, the road becomes my muse.&lt;br /&gt;The heat is rising and my hand surfs through the wind.&lt;br /&gt;Cool calm collected is the child that lies within.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-7779747788080926014?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/7779747788080926014/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=7779747788080926014' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7779747788080926014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7779747788080926014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/11/cruz.html' title='Cruz.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-6253206812464289372</id><published>2010-11-23T14:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T14:29:13.381-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprise, surprise</title><content type='html'>Never in my life had I experienced such a dramatic change of ups and downs. I went from being a wreckage to flying over the clouds. Remembering what I was complaining about just a few days ago makes me realize for the thousandth time that to make something happen, I just have to ask for it sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;And I never thought something so silly could be able to make me feel so good. Today I probably did one of the most idiotic things in my life and never could I have imagined such a perfect response from the person I think of most of the time. He understood. He got it. He didn't find it stupid. Anybody would think it was weird, he didn't. He didn't give an awkward pause for a response but instantly, he did just what I did. And it's weird because it's not like him to do that. But then again, what I did wasn't like me either. I had lost all hope about him but now it's coming back to me again. I really wonder, can it really be? And I don't hesitate now to answer, why not?&lt;br /&gt;I won't ruin it with questions, I will try not to make it seem like a milestone to what I really want to achieve. I'll take what happened today as if it will have no further consequences and just be content about it. Isn't it enough, after all? What happened was one of the cutest, sweetest things that could have happened and why expect more?&lt;br /&gt;I am so amazed at people who are surprised when they get disappointed although it's them who always take everything as signals, messages, all for the future. What you're living, what makes you happy at the moment is important. Why the greed? It's meaningless and illogical. Why does it always have to mean something more? Or in other words, why does there always have to be a further meaning? Sometimes there isn't but still what happened feels good. Drowning in predictions about the future, what a simple matter "actually means"...&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy it, don't ruin it. That's what I do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-6253206812464289372?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/6253206812464289372/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=6253206812464289372' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6253206812464289372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6253206812464289372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/11/surprise-surprise.html' title='Surprise, surprise'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-6318128035609549054</id><published>2010-11-22T14:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T14:36:33.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Recovered Mind 2</title><content type='html'>I have recovered, truly. My mind is at ease finally. I needed a shock-treatment it seems and I got it in one of the most possible painful ways. My vision is cleared now and I can see all I have to be thankful for again. My senses work as they should and I can judge fairly again. I needed to be cut short of breath to get myself to breathe properly again, so I was.&lt;br /&gt;The storm passed.&lt;br /&gt;I got myself together again. Somehow, my routine doesn't seem so boring now. I maintain the feeling of gratitude once again and it feels so comforting.&lt;br /&gt;Today, everything felt good. Even being back at school felt good. Seeing the people I didn't like didn't bother me. Small talk didn't bother me. I was happy to be exactly where I was, with all the wrongs, all the flaws, it felt good, beautiful. I dream of the days ahead of me and a feeling of excitement conquers me. I feel lucky to have the opportunity to escape and get away. It is a gift, it is bliss. I'm so thankful that at such a young age, I have understood that, if there is nothing you can do to change your life entirely at the moment, you can at least meet that change at brief encounters. You can escape for brief periods of time and find peace, remind yourself that it exists and then come back to real life. After such a get-away experience, real life seems better. It fills you with new energy and love for life and until it runs out, you're good to go. I am truly thankful to be able to have that get-away.&lt;br /&gt;I suddenly feel like I haven't felt in such a long time. But the feeling isn't new, it isn't strange. I remember this feeling clearly. This is my joy, my eagerness to live -for no particular reason-. I am, after all, back to being Pollyanna again.&lt;br /&gt;Gratitude is such a bliss. Gratitude is what will always put better things along your path.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-6318128035609549054?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/6318128035609549054/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=6318128035609549054' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6318128035609549054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6318128035609549054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/11/confessions-of-recovered-mind-2.html' title='Confessions of a Recovered Mind 2'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-924447193541091598</id><published>2010-11-22T14:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T14:25:38.267-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Confessions of a Recovered Mind</title><content type='html'>Have you ever felt so content with everything,&lt;br /&gt;For just being how they are?&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever had that feeling,&lt;br /&gt;Coming to terms with all errors&lt;br /&gt;Smiling at all flaws?&lt;br /&gt;The brief moment that you realize&lt;br /&gt;Everything's properly placed&lt;br /&gt;That brief moment,&lt;br /&gt;You're thankful you're alive.&lt;br /&gt;Happiness doesn't demand perfection.&lt;br /&gt;Not even permanence.&lt;br /&gt;It's just a moment worth a life-time.&lt;br /&gt;It's a single moment, makes life worth living.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-924447193541091598?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/924447193541091598/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=924447193541091598' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/924447193541091598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/924447193541091598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/11/confessions-of-recovered-mind.html' title='Confessions of a Recovered Mind'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-9064435814308274375</id><published>2010-11-18T17:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-18T17:18:12.105-08:00</updated><title type='text'>same old</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Slowly slowly dying…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;I don't see no light…&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;There is no rising sun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;I look deep beyond.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;I'm deprived of my tears&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;I cannot cry and it's fair&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Cause there is nothing to cry about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;I'm deprived of my laughter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;I can barely ever smile&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Cause there is nothing to smile about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; min-height: 14.0px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;All I feel is&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Weariness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;All I feel is&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;Loneliness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;All I feel is&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;The same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"&gt;The same.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-9064435814308274375?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/9064435814308274375/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=9064435814308274375' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/9064435814308274375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/9064435814308274375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/11/same-old.html' title='same old'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-6365633305781998863</id><published>2010-11-18T16:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-18T16:55:51.436-08:00</updated><title type='text'>dull adj. sıkıcı, donuk, renksiz, soluk, tatsız; fersiz, kör, mat; sersem, duygusuz, ruhsuz</title><content type='html'>http://www.jango.com/stations/263855461/tunein?song_id=9639&lt;br /&gt;(Dido feels the same apparently)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do you know when what you're feeling is just a direct result of your needs or it is genuine? How do I know that what I'm feeling so intensely is because I desperately need to feel something that intense or because he makes me feel this way? The former seems more likely but it doesn't change anything. I tell this to myself and nothing changes. I keep on feeling what I'm feeling, dreaming what I had been dreaming and thinking what I had been thinking.&lt;br /&gt;My life had never been duller than this. The meaning of the word "dull" cannot fulfill any kind of circumstances more than these. I have, and choose not to have no kind of social life at school. I don't want to see most of my "friends", I usually don't have the energy to do anything but I force myself to do things because time doesn't pass otherwise. Frankly, I am not unhappy. I am pretty content with everything. Contentment has almost become a characteristic feature of me, which makes life dramatically more different than the other way around. But there is absolutely nothing going on. There is nothing I look forward to (besides Paris - which is huge I admit but I don't mean stuff like that). &amp;nbsp;I feel lonely very often but I choose to be this way. I can't stand people. I guess the routine I used to find peace in has become a little too monotonous. I need to make little changes at least. If you took my picture every minute per a whole day, I guess in %90 of the pictures my expression would look exactly the same. Why can't I enjoy life the way I used to? Why do I get bored so easily? I go meet with the people that I love and after an hour I'm thinking about driving back home because I get so exhausted and bored of the talk. But I force myself to stay there to pass time. This isn't how life should be. This wasn't who I was. Yes I have changed drastically these last few months in a very positive way but this new feeling of "constant boredom" came with the alterations.&lt;br /&gt;I must admit that a small part of me likes this routine a lot. No surprises, no ups and downs, tomorrow kind of predictable. I want no bad surprises of course. But I used to live with action in my life. Life felt more interesting, I did things that I found interesting or at least fun. Now I don't find any of what I used to do fun or interesting. They just seem to me unnecessary. I don't know what this new person I have become, considers to be enjoyable.&lt;br /&gt;I can't disentangle this knot however hard I think on it. You know what I REALLY wanna do? I wanna stay in front of the TV for a looong time and never get bored, never leave the house, never talk to anyone, see anyone. I guess I have these feelings because I don't like my current social-state. How can I? I don't like talking to anyone!!! Nobody is interesting, nobody talks about things I wanna listen to. I wish there were more people that I liked and didn't bore me.&lt;br /&gt;I really really hope this passes soon.&lt;br /&gt;I know the cure. But I'm so sick of asking for it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-6365633305781998863?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/6365633305781998863/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=6365633305781998863' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6365633305781998863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/6365633305781998863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/11/dull-adj-skc-donuk-renksiz-soluk-tatsz.html' title='dull adj. sıkıcı, donuk, renksiz, soluk, tatsız; fersiz, kör, mat; sersem, duygusuz, ruhsuz'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-3244277562955475002</id><published>2010-11-14T15:12:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T15:12:50.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Song</title><content type='html'>However I far away, I will always love you&lt;br /&gt;However long I stay, I will always love you&lt;br /&gt;Whatever words I say, I will always love you&lt;br /&gt;I will always love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-3244277562955475002?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/3244277562955475002/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=3244277562955475002' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3244277562955475002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/3244277562955475002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/11/love-song.html' title='Love Song'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-4027756119966799087</id><published>2010-11-12T02:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-12T02:38:35.228-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ot gibi yaşamak.</title><content type='html'>Şu anda kedim parkeleri yalıyor. Çok enteresan değil mi?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hüzünlüyüm baya, dün akşamdan beri. Galiba Jane Eyre okumak, izlemek, o modda olmak bana yaramıyor. Eksikliğini hissettiğim her şeyi hatırlatıyor çünkü. Şu 9 günlük bayram tatilinde (bugünü de say çünkü okula gitmedim 10 olsun) teknik olarak okumam gereken 4 kitap var. 2sini bitirmem diğer 2sini de en azından yarılamam lazım. Tabii her biri 100 sayfa olsaydı 4 günde çatır çutur bitirirdim hepsini. Gel gör ki 500, 400, 200, 300 gibi sayfa sayıları olunca, ne yapacağım lan ben paranoyasına girmemek imkansız. Sürekli bir takım sorumluluklar altında olmak sıkıyor adamı tabii. Ne yapacağım? Hepsini okumayacağım. TK'dan muhtemelen kalacağım ve bir ilk olacağım okulda -withdraw edemezsem-.&lt;br /&gt;Her neyse, hüzünlü olmamın sebebi ödevlerim değil, neyse ki.&lt;br /&gt;Ben neden hüzünlenirim? Beni genelde "hüzün" kelimesini kullanmaya sevk eden tek şey yalnızlıktır. Kendi başıma olmaktan keyif alamadığım nadir günlerde, aynı anda içimde hiçbir şey yapma şevki barındıramamaktır. Kitaplar okumam, filmler izlemem, piyano çalışmam hatta banyo yapmam gerekirken ben bunların hiçbirini yapmak için kendimi şu koltuktan kaldıramıyorum. Bu da saniye başı hissedilebilecek, kesintisiz bir sıkıntı hissine dönüştürüyor kendini. Bu bayramda çok sıkılacağımı bildiğimden belki de. Evet evet, bu bayram baya sıkıcı olacak.&lt;br /&gt;Ot gibi yaşamaya alışınca - okula git, eve gel, ödev yap - , bu rutinden kopmak bir sıkıntı bastırıyor insana çünkü şimdi okula gitmeyip ne yapacağım sorusu geliyor. Hiçbir şeyi çok çok zevk alarak yapamamanın olayı bu. Neyse ki Paris'e gitmeme çok az kaldı. Bugün ayın 12siyse, sadece 20 gün kaldı! Tabii ortada ne otel rezervasyonu var ne benim Schengen var ama onlar halledilir 20 günde. Schengenciğim sağolsun 2 günde çıkıyor zaten. Artık Fransız konsolosluğunun bana vize vermeye gerek duymaması hatta üstüne davet etmesi lazım bence çünk bu kaçıncı Fransız Schengen... Yunanistan'a giderken bile Fransız Schengen. Hiç bunları düşünmüyorlar... Şu anki ot hayatımdan kurturacağı için içime su serpen olay budur. E normal de aslında, hayatımın şehrine gidiyorum bir kez daha.&lt;br /&gt;Mesela şu an yazmaktan da sıkıldığım için, bırakıyorum bu yazıyı.&lt;br /&gt;Kedim de gitti zaten.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-4027756119966799087?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/4027756119966799087/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=4027756119966799087' title='1 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4027756119966799087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4027756119966799087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/11/ot-gibi-yasamak.html' title='Ot gibi yaşamak.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-2478578471274408008</id><published>2010-11-08T11:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-08T11:51:36.774-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Paramore demiş ki;</title><content type='html'>Maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul that love never lasts.&lt;br /&gt;And we've got to find other ways to make it alone and keep a straight face.&lt;br /&gt;I've always lived like this, keeping it comfortable - distance.&lt;br /&gt;Up until now I had sworn to myself that I'm content with loneliness&lt;br /&gt;Because none of it was ever worth the risk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ben yazsam da en fazla bu kadar olacaktı ne de olsa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-2478578471274408008?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/2478578471274408008/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=2478578471274408008' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2478578471274408008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/2478578471274408008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/11/paramore-demis-ki.html' title='Paramore demiş ki;'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-7579957682085865228</id><published>2010-11-06T16:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T16:42:15.529-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Hopeless Romantic Is Not Likely To Change</title><content type='html'>I don't know why it took me so many years to realize that I am a genuine romantic. I am driven by emotions contrary to what most people think of me. I value feelings more than I value reason. And finally it makes sense to me now as reason is mathematical, solid, a square while feelings are what makes us human, they enable art and understanding of beauty. Feelings are what make life fun. They make life endurable as well as miserable. One doesn't exist without the other anyway, that's not the point. We are lifeless without emotions.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. What I found it hard to admit to myself was probably that I need romance in my life. I can't survive without romance. I need that heart to heart connection that is deeper than anything else. I need my heart to beat like crazy when I look into someone's eyes. I need to be left sleep deprived because I can't stop playing a perfect day in my head with a certain person. But I need the truth of it. I won't buy the lie of it, the fake of it anymore. Although even that would feel good enough if I could believe.&lt;br /&gt;I won't try to satisfy myself with fragments of the whole anymore. Because now that I have confessed the truth of my nature and I have come to terms with it, there is no point in trying to fit a square into a circle. I cannot be fooled by shallow acts neither can I be made happy. I will not be modest in my wishes as modest realizations of my wishes will not do me any good.&lt;br /&gt;My heart is more open than ever and it feels like I'm waiting for that moment to come. Everything is in its right place. Everything is set, ready. That day when it will all start just has to come, to make me the happiest person in the world. Naturally I don't wanna be miserable. I don't wanna love and not be loved back. I've been through that story a million times. Now it's the time I deserve equally and mutually felt love. The one that doesn't change in circumstances. I know I'll get it. I just don't know when.&lt;br /&gt;I wanna finish this by some of my favorite Shakespeare lines;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Let me not to the marriage of true minds&lt;br /&gt;Admit impediments. Love is not love&lt;br /&gt;Which alters when it alteration finds,&lt;br /&gt;Or bends with the remover to remove:&lt;br /&gt;O no! it is an ever-fixed mark&lt;br /&gt;That looks on tempests and is never shaken;&lt;br /&gt;It is the star to every wandering bark,&lt;br /&gt;Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.&lt;br /&gt;Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks&lt;br /&gt;Within his bending sickle's compass come:&lt;br /&gt;Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,&lt;br /&gt;But bears it out even to the edge of doom.&lt;br /&gt;If this be error and upon me proved,&lt;br /&gt;I never writ, nor no man ever loved.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-7579957682085865228?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/7579957682085865228/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=7579957682085865228' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7579957682085865228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/7579957682085865228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/11/hopeless-romantic-is-not-likely-to.html' title='A Hopeless Romantic Is Not Likely To Change'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-1123050414942052669</id><published>2010-11-03T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T08:10:19.617-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pollyanna</title><content type='html'>Yazmak istediğim şeyler var biliyorum ama kafamı toparlayamıyorum. Belki de en iyisi böyle başlamak dedim ben de.&lt;br /&gt;Hayatımda belki hiç bu kadar hızlı büyümemiştim. Hiç böyle hızlı değişmemiştim. Çok memnunum böyle olmasından. Asla sahip olmadığım türden bir huzura sahibim şimdi.&lt;br /&gt;Pollyanna'nın ne kadar derinlere kadar köklerini sardığını görüyorum kendimde, mutluyum. Kendimi kandırdığımı söyleyecek olan bir çoğunluk var. Öyle olsun. Kendimi kandırarak çok daha mutlu bir hayat geçiriyorsam, ne zararı var?&lt;br /&gt;Anlamıyor insanlar işte. Kırılgan bir çin vazosuyum zannediyorlar. Çok yüksekten düşersem kırılacağım parça parça olacağım sanıyorlar. Aman kendini kaptırma diye vaazlar veriyorlar. Neyse ki anlamalarına ihtiyacım yok artık. Kendimden hiç şüphe etmiyorum. Ne kadar güçlü olduğumu biliyorum.&lt;br /&gt;Ağlamayı da seviyorum ben diyorum, yüzüme boş boş bakıyorlar. Depresif oluyorum o zaman da. E hani Pollyanna'ydım? Öyleyim işte aslında. Ağlamaktan bile keyif alıyorum. O acıyı da yaşamalıyım çünkü. Zaten içime kadar işleyecek acılar yaşamıyorum neyse ki. Ufacık bir şeyde dağılmıyorum. Görmüyorlar.&lt;br /&gt;Umudumu ben de anlamıyorum. Neden bu umut? Neden bir sonuç olduğuna inanıyorum çok içten bir yerlerde, bu durgun çizginin sonunda? Ne bir kanıt, ne bir işaret varken, inanıyorum safça. Mantıklı mı diye sorgulasam, ben de çok mantıksız buluyorum. Ama kötü bir haberin bile suratımda huzurlu bir gülümsemeye yol açması bundan tamamen. "Önemli değil" diyorum, sanki neticeyi önceden biliyormuşum da, onun zamanını bekliyormuşum gibi.&lt;br /&gt;Bir yandan da kendimi kandırıyor olmaktan korkuyorum bu konuda. Bir şey olmazsa üzüleceğimden, kırılacağımdan değil. Ama kandırmıyor olmak istiyorum, içgüdülerim haklı çıksın istiyorum. O hayal, uyumadan hemen önce, rüyalarıma yol gösteriyor.&lt;br /&gt;Ve ben mutluyum her şeye rağmen. Çok sık gelgitler yaşıyorum içimde, o anlamsız his, burukluk hissi -evet tam da bu- gelip gidiyor sürekli. Ama genel tabloyu etkilemiyor bu. Küçücük değişkenler değişiyor sadece denklemde, sonuç yine aynı oluyor, ya da bir eksik, bir fazla. Değişim sadece küsüratlarda.&lt;br /&gt;Aslında hayat da böyle. Virgülden sonraki değerlere takıyoruz kafayı pek de bir şey değişmeyeceğini fark edemeyerek.&lt;br /&gt;Sürekli bir şey bekliyorum. İnanılmaz bir huzurla bekliyorum hem de. Bir şey olacak. Ne acaba? Her ne ise, çok güzel olacak, sadece bunu biliyorum. Bu kadar temiz duyguların karşılığı çirkin bir şey olamaz.&lt;br /&gt;Heyecanlanıyorum bazen. Saçma da geliyor aslında. Hiçbir şey yokken heyecanlanıyorsun diyorum.&lt;br /&gt;Evet Pollyanna'yım ben. Hayatın sıkıcılığından kendine nasıl olduğunu bilmediği bir gelecek koyup onu düşünüp heyecanlanan bir Pollyanna'yım.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-1123050414942052669?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/1123050414942052669/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=1123050414942052669' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1123050414942052669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/1123050414942052669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/11/pollyanna.html' title='Pollyanna'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-8866994445361498442</id><published>2010-11-02T13:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T13:40:29.162-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Peace Of Mind</title><content type='html'>I have had enough of this chaos. Now it's time for peace.&lt;br /&gt;This city, this chaos, this marathon has worn me out.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not talking about a temporary situation. This can't be mended by a vacation.&lt;br /&gt;I want the vacation to be how I spend my life.&lt;br /&gt;I've found ways for this to come true.&lt;br /&gt;I have dreams, plans though not sophisticated enough yet as they are brand new.&lt;br /&gt;Every single time I have a chance to isolate myself, I feel free.&lt;br /&gt;When I lose all contact with the reality of life, I feel free.&lt;br /&gt;When I'm connected with nature and the sea, I feel free.&lt;br /&gt;And all the other times that I'm running after trivial things,&lt;br /&gt;My mind occupied by ideas that don't really matter,&lt;br /&gt;When I tire myself calculating the future,&lt;br /&gt;And feeling things that are superficial,&lt;br /&gt;I feel the life being sucked out of me, I feel chained, I feel locked.&lt;br /&gt;This city has become a prison for me.&lt;br /&gt;And I know nobody talks about this at the age of eight-teen.&lt;br /&gt;Everyday, I find peace in dreaming of a future where I am by the sea,&lt;br /&gt;Just breathing...&lt;br /&gt;And life: requires no more effort than what it takes to breathe.&lt;br /&gt;That dream has become my consolation.&lt;br /&gt;Otherwise, life will become a living hell.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want my life to be reduced to weekends,&lt;br /&gt;And a one week holiday for a whole year's effort.&lt;br /&gt;What I am asking for is more than what a spoilt brat would ask&lt;br /&gt;I can't survive otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;I'm too tired to be eight-teen.&lt;br /&gt;I'm too old to be eight-teen.&lt;br /&gt;How I can relate to Jane Eyre.&lt;br /&gt;How naturally grown up she is.&lt;br /&gt;Life, humans made her so, they wore her out.&lt;br /&gt;And now here I am, although there is no deadline to this,&lt;br /&gt;Waking up with a feeling of days counting down.&lt;br /&gt;There is no guarantee that I'll ever end up in my dream.&lt;br /&gt;But I can't live otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;I am simply not cut out for this chaos.&lt;br /&gt;I am not fast or ambitious or blind enough to endure this let alone like it.&lt;br /&gt;I see the same streets with the same implicit feeling of disgust.&lt;br /&gt;And I can't feel any more like an outsider, a foreigner;&lt;br /&gt;Just someone who doesn't belong at all.&lt;br /&gt;I feel in my very core that I am obliged to go.&lt;br /&gt;A feeling that has no beginning in time or no end.&lt;br /&gt;It seems to have been there all along.&lt;br /&gt;But I thank my higher power, for giving me a way out of this mess.&lt;br /&gt;I have all the comfort I need in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;I actually do have a strange peace of mind.&lt;br /&gt;Strange -because it's almost too peaceful.&lt;br /&gt;That is the reason I'm so comfortable in my laziness.&lt;br /&gt;My conscience clean, my wounds not bleeding forever.&lt;br /&gt;I am lucky to have you here.&lt;br /&gt;Why would the rest matter?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-8866994445361498442?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/8866994445361498442/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=8866994445361498442' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8866994445361498442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/8866994445361498442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/11/peace-of-mind.html' title='Peace Of Mind'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-4386073075592034296</id><published>2010-11-01T14:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T14:57:18.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Şu anki durumum:</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #bf9000;"&gt;Bir şeyleri dert etmeye "üşenip" daha az efor gerektirdiği için mutlu olmak.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-4386073075592034296?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/4386073075592034296/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=4386073075592034296' title='1 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4386073075592034296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4386073075592034296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/11/su-anki-durumum.html' title='Şu anki durumum:'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5258542323974904308.post-4023095346587272000</id><published>2010-10-28T10:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T10:25:50.616-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate school at 19.</title><content type='html'>This year, I learned how it feels to have a guilty conscience 7/24.&lt;br /&gt;Made guilty by schoolwork, as a surprise. Undone schoolwork.&lt;br /&gt;I can't keep track. I just can't. I am putting effort into it. I put even more than I ever have. But it is not enough. Somehow, I can never get things done in time. I can never check all the things on my to-do-list.&lt;br /&gt;I have to find a way around this.&lt;br /&gt;It sucks when you always know somewhere in your mind that you have things to do and you aren't doing them. Because as a human being you need to have fun as well.&lt;br /&gt;It's so silly of me, writing about these things. Actually I'm supposed to be doing homework just at this second but instead I'm writing about it.&lt;br /&gt;I think I have built a self-mechanised phobia. I wonder if I'll ever be able to read for pleasure again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5258542323974904308-4023095346587272000?l=pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/feeds/4023095346587272000/comments/default' title='Kayıt Yorumları'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5258542323974904308&amp;postID=4023095346587272000' title='0 Yorum'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4023095346587272000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5258542323974904308/posts/default/4023095346587272000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://pollyannas-suicide.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-hate-school-at-19.html' title='I hate school at 19.'/><author><name>polly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04332163670949466571</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_l7pZ1KiWCJs/THXIYAITztI/AAAAAAAAAC0/kBAnlHTK6WI/S220/36486_444181171348_656266348_5911569_2217245_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
