<?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-8827335108503413717</id><updated>2011-08-22T01:53:23.430-04:00</updated><category term='wish'/><category term='Hellblinki'/><category term='dream'/><category term='wounds'/><category term='universe'/><category term='star'/><category term='creation'/><category term='flesh'/><category term='paper stars'/><category term='nightmare'/><category term='hope'/><title type='text'>Another Day, Another Face</title><subtitle type='html'>Creative fallout. Words and lines, beginnings and ends. Hopefully somewhere along the way I can meld it all together into something beautiful.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Chameleon Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03650245323089905282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v05Zc07ySH8/TLOuRv4Z4uI/AAAAAAAAABc/Svpb_dorsG0/S220/65952_439232751559_526271559_5990669_6318548_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>8</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8827335108503413717.post-8653433828691651751</id><published>2011-06-06T17:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-06T17:59:59.156-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Ah, but a concept is but a flash before the birth of a belief. My concepts are bright and fadeburn to a firm belief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[..."fadeburn to firm fact" would have sounded better now that I think of it.]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8827335108503413717-8653433828691651751?l=chameleon--girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/feeds/8653433828691651751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2011/06/ah-but-concept-is-but-flash-before.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/8653433828691651751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/8653433828691651751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2011/06/ah-but-concept-is-but-flash-before.html' title='Thoughts'/><author><name>Chameleon Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03650245323089905282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v05Zc07ySH8/TLOuRv4Z4uI/AAAAAAAAABc/Svpb_dorsG0/S220/65952_439232751559_526271559_5990669_6318548_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8827335108503413717.post-6554426563644559950</id><published>2011-03-09T00:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-09T01:01:21.826-05:00</updated><title type='text'>snip snap snupt</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;--- I would dress you in frilly things and wings, glitter and flight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;--- Gladly, would I drown in a storm of your fierce love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;--- Blinking eyes against&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;      newborn sun. Limbs swing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;      over a beast of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;      metal and leather.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;      Vision goes yellow,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;      and the wind is her ocean.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8827335108503413717-6554426563644559950?l=chameleon--girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/feeds/6554426563644559950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2011/03/snip-snap-snupt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/6554426563644559950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/6554426563644559950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2011/03/snip-snap-snupt.html' title='snip snap snupt'/><author><name>Chameleon Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03650245323089905282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v05Zc07ySH8/TLOuRv4Z4uI/AAAAAAAAABc/Svpb_dorsG0/S220/65952_439232751559_526271559_5990669_6318548_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8827335108503413717.post-8647913054323191571</id><published>2011-01-25T12:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T21:44:44.226-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wounds'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nightmare'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hellblinki'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flesh'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><title type='text'>25.1.11</title><content type='html'>&lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The town had recently reinstated a long time gone tradition of having  a secondary year of senior year, so, all in all, 5 years of high  school.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I arrived on campus a little late as I tend to do, and each time I  took a handful of steps across campus, I was naked except for my combat  boots and panties. This kept happening… but either nobody noticed, or  nobody cared.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;By the time I got to my classroom, everybody else was seated. And  damn there were a lot of freakin’ people. At this point I had lost my  purse about 3 times, and my bookbag twice, so I was already frazzled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;The classroom held an assortment of kids I knew, kids I had class  with, and kids that were fuzzy around the edges. Andrew from Hellblinki  kept passing in front of the classroom window, which really wasn’t so  much as a window, but a wall of glass with reinforcements. He looked  tired and wasn’t responding to the silly faces I was making at him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;We were given sheets of paper to fill out, a lot of really random  questions and pictures from comic books. This black kid next to me for  some reason kept trying to “share” my seat…and once again, I was naked,  so obviously, also very uncomfortable. Eventually I was able to shove  him into the empty seat NEXT TO HIM.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Just before the first class was over, Andrew slammed himself up  against the glass window-wall, scaring half the class. We proceeded to  make faces at each other for the rest of class. When the bell rang, I  tried running out to meet him, but he had disappeared by that point.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I started to wander around looking for my next class, and realized…  all the merch booths from Dragon*Con were set up in the courtyard. I  started looking around, traversing the rather hilly campus. I picked up a  humongous tin of tea and opened it to take a sniff, but smelled  nothing. Coming around from behind me was the merch booth guy…I thought I  recognized him and I made an ass of myself by saying, “Oh hey! What’s  up! I haven’t seen you in awhile!” He let me give him a hug, but I  chalked that up to me startling him, and replied, “I haven’t seen you,  ever…” I blinked and walked off dazedly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Running across some friendly faces [actual friends, not faces just  hanging about, thank you very much], I asked what the fair was about.  They told me it wasn’t due to the  first-day-of-the-second-senior-last-high-school-year, but due to AQUA,  the new aquarium setting up down the road, and warned me the booths  weren’t going to be here all day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I walked on and heard terrifying screams.&lt;br /&gt;Blood curdling screams.&lt;br /&gt;And someone yelling my friend’s name.&lt;br /&gt;“KARSON!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary  was yelling Karson’s name, facing what looked to be a portable. There  was a struggle going on in the portable, and Mary kept screaming, though  not moving. I took a couple of steps up meaning to open to door, when  Karson flew out and ran behind me. Her shirt was barely hanging on and  she had no pants on. A guy stepped out of the portable, naked except for  a towel over his junk. Karson was strangely calm, though she made it  clear she wanted to leave. The guy just stared at us as Mary and I  walked Karson away, up the hill to take her to … somewhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;That’s when I saw her back.&lt;br /&gt;Right along her shoulder blades, her  skin had been torn away in huge chunks. Where flesh had gone missing, it  was just black. Dried, crusted blood ran all along the border of her  massive wounds, and down her back. There were fingernail marks on the  rest of her back too. When I gasped and started crying, she was calm  still, but asking me what was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“YOUR BACK! What did he DO?!”&lt;br /&gt;“What do you mean, my back? What, what is it?”&lt;br /&gt;“It — it looks horrible!”&lt;br /&gt;“What is it?!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point, she’d gotten panicky and was trying to see her back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I blinked, and where the huge black pits of emptied flesh once were, were now well healed scars.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p  style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;“Nothing…nothing,” I said, and we carried on up the hill.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8827335108503413717-8647913054323191571?l=chameleon--girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/feeds/8647913054323191571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2011/01/town-had-recently-reinstated-long-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/8647913054323191571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/8647913054323191571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2011/01/town-had-recently-reinstated-long-time.html' title='25.1.11'/><author><name>Chameleon Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03650245323089905282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v05Zc07ySH8/TLOuRv4Z4uI/AAAAAAAAABc/Svpb_dorsG0/S220/65952_439232751559_526271559_5990669_6318548_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8827335108503413717.post-4463606075128609912</id><published>2010-10-11T20:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-11T20:49:03.490-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wingless</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;In a fit of anger o'er a mortal man&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;I drank deep of the Faerie wine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;I was silly and I was lost, so&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;I ripped away the wings that clung&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;          to either side of my spine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;I pinned them to the wall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Where the light caught the sparkle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;And sent it shimmering&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;'Cross my face.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;My fingers stretched and arched&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;And ached and strained&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;To seize the points of brightness&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;That stuck in my eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;          while they did naught but rain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8827335108503413717-4463606075128609912?l=chameleon--girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/feeds/4463606075128609912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2010/10/wingless.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/4463606075128609912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/4463606075128609912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2010/10/wingless.html' title='Wingless'/><author><name>Chameleon Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03650245323089905282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v05Zc07ySH8/TLOuRv4Z4uI/AAAAAAAAABc/Svpb_dorsG0/S220/65952_439232751559_526271559_5990669_6318548_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8827335108503413717.post-7114427267733728528</id><published>2009-12-23T21:59:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-25T12:44:38.055-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nightmare 23.12.09</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Kevin and I were throwing a party at our new apartment. My mom had been over earlier, with a bag of old clothes she was going to give to Goodwill. I salvaged many pieces, and was wearing one of the dresses. I had planned on only wearing the dress until after Aaron (our old boss) showed up, then I could change into comfier clothing. When he arrived, he complemented me quite a bit, and then the apartment changed into a log cabin, in the woods.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Everybody we'd invited (which was apparently the whole of the Target Flow [third shift] team, plus some others) was there and milling about. Martha, a small hispanic woman was tracing my wing tattoo, and asking if I'd preformed a ceremony before getting them. I responded that I hadn't, and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"  &gt;she&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"  &gt; responded by spraying my back with what looked to be water, but felt hot and slightly burning. She then commented they looked a little worn and I amended that I had to get them touched up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"  &gt;A few moments pass of chatting with others, and I'm sitting in the kitchen when Martha and another girly I don't know come running up to me, and drag me away, whispering about how I "have to see something" and "can't tell anyone". At first they seem excited, happy. Then it turns all negative nerves, and I can see it in the air, like how the space above the pavement on a hot day looks slimy and shimmery.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:courier new;font-size:85%;"  &gt;They take me to the bathroom, where there is a blond-haired child's head in the toilet, facing the tank. Someone's hand grips it by the hair and pulls it out, to show it's just a head, with a bit of spine coming out. The eyes are white. I stumble out of the room with a gasp and a scream,  and into the living room where everyone else is. Kevin comes over to see what's wrong, and, upon seeing the head, almost falls over backwards, screaming,  "No. Nooo. Noooo! Not thi-- no!" and starts scratching his face. At this point, everyone else is screaming. When I look back, the head has grown a body, really disjointed and long, and it is pushing itself out of the toilet. I look back at Kevin, who's head at this point has become viciously decapitated. The person from the toilet is making its way towards me when I am finally able to wrench myself from the dream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8827335108503413717-7114427267733728528?l=chameleon--girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/feeds/7114427267733728528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2009/12/nightmare-1223.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/7114427267733728528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/7114427267733728528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2009/12/nightmare-1223.html' title='Nightmare 23.12.09'/><author><name>Chameleon Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03650245323089905282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v05Zc07ySH8/TLOuRv4Z4uI/AAAAAAAAABc/Svpb_dorsG0/S220/65952_439232751559_526271559_5990669_6318548_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8827335108503413717.post-4095217281545915031</id><published>2009-11-06T08:50:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T08:52:58.604-05:00</updated><title type='text'>II-I</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The weekend holds promises&lt;br /&gt;of friends and fires,&lt;br /&gt;marshmallows and magic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where gravity&lt;br /&gt;turns to levity&lt;br /&gt;of the heart and mind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8827335108503413717-4095217281545915031?l=chameleon--girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/feeds/4095217281545915031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2009/11/ii-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/4095217281545915031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/4095217281545915031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2009/11/ii-i.html' title='II-I'/><author><name>Chameleon Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03650245323089905282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v05Zc07ySH8/TLOuRv4Z4uI/AAAAAAAAABc/Svpb_dorsG0/S220/65952_439232751559_526271559_5990669_6318548_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8827335108503413717.post-8030973855551892859</id><published>2009-10-02T23:31:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T00:13:56.723-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wish'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='star'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='universe'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hope'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dream'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paper stars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='creation'/><title type='text'>I-I.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I dusted off the jar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;that holds a universe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;and popped its&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;vacuum seal.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Reading of Fey and Wood,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I wished stars into being&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;and dropped them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;into that Ocean of Dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8827335108503413717-8030973855551892859?l=chameleon--girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/feeds/8030973855551892859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2009/10/ii.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/8030973855551892859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/8030973855551892859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2009/10/ii.html' title='I-I.'/><author><name>Chameleon Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03650245323089905282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v05Zc07ySH8/TLOuRv4Z4uI/AAAAAAAAABc/Svpb_dorsG0/S220/65952_439232751559_526271559_5990669_6318548_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8827335108503413717.post-8910611566459352738</id><published>2009-10-02T22:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T22:56:48.183-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I feel strange today...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;There's a hollowness somewhere.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Not empty. Empty implies something was there. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;This. This is hollow. Vacant. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;A needful space. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I can't tell precisely where it lies.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;It's heavy. And makes my heart irregular. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:times new roman;" &gt;pitterpatterpitterp a t t e r   p  i  t  t  e  r patterpi   t  t er&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I don't know if it's inside me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Or around me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8827335108503413717-8910611566459352738?l=chameleon--girl.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/feeds/8910611566459352738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2009/10/i.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/8910611566459352738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8827335108503413717/posts/default/8910611566459352738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://chameleon--girl.blogspot.com/2009/10/i.html' title='I.'/><author><name>Chameleon Girl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03650245323089905282</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_v05Zc07ySH8/TLOuRv4Z4uI/AAAAAAAAABc/Svpb_dorsG0/S220/65952_439232751559_526271559_5990669_6318548_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
