<?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-3172135940916988381</id><updated>2011-07-07T21:56:24.418-07:00</updated><category term='Sitting in class Bored'/><title type='text'>Why Not</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>NHerk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13769923767873986080</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172135940916988381.post-3692496487005915017</id><published>2009-12-06T11:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T11:53:17.084-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Replacements</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;old tracks created by a new beast.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;moonlight from stars while the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;moon takes a vacation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;opportunistic eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;i need hair dark as night,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;eyes that swallow my problems,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;fingers touching my soul.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;loneliness is not an option.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;everyone who climbs out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;of love had to climb in.&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/3172135940916988381-3692496487005915017?l=herkblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3692496487005915017/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3172135940916988381&amp;postID=3692496487005915017' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/3692496487005915017'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/3692496487005915017'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/2009/12/replacements.html' title='Replacements'/><author><name>NHerk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13769923767873986080</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172135940916988381.post-5116032854949666795</id><published>2009-12-06T11:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T11:50:11.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Calls to the Past</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;The breakdown of a fortress.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;it comes down slow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;the wall I put up &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;was bull dozed by&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;illusions of the past&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Trembling hands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I dialed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;phone buzzed &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;buzzed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;buzzed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;then went to voicemail&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I sat &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;hands shaking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I murdered self respect&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;giving into &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;up ahead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;dead ends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I sinned once more&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;it happened again,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I watched my hand grab&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;the gun and put it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;up to my head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;Phone buzzed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;buzzed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;buzzed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;then went to voicemail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;gun shot ammunition&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;of silence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;what I hoped for and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;was afraid of.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I puked twice, once for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;each call.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;still had the sick feeling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I turned on Miles making smiles&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;still had the sick feeling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I turned on porn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;jacked off&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;still had the sick feeling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;I fell asleep &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;with trembling hands &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;and a fortress under construction&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"&gt;&lt;span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px"&gt;bound to break down again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Helvetica, serif;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&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/3172135940916988381-5116032854949666795?l=herkblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5116032854949666795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3172135940916988381&amp;postID=5116032854949666795' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/5116032854949666795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/5116032854949666795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/2009/12/calls-to-past.html' title='Calls to the Past'/><author><name>NHerk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13769923767873986080</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172135940916988381.post-4765917123516921155</id><published>2009-08-04T11:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T17:58:20.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Journal Entry from 10/06/08</title><content type='html'>This is more or less what I put in my Journal.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today I went with Megan to see Bill Maher's new movie Religulous.  It reminded me of why I believe society is doomed.  If religion is fundamentally asserted into American culture, essentially apart of the American dream, than what does that say about America?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It means the fundamentals are corrupt and wrong.  However, religion is not a fundamental part of society, or at least wasn't suppose to be.  It has quietly snuck in the back door and little by little it has made its way to the front and now it is on the stage running the show.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I rediscovered an idea at the end of the movie that I once possessed and cared for.  Religion, just like so much of America, has become more of a circus than a humble belief.  They are twisted organizations hellbent on raising revenue instead of helping their fellow man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, I realized that people interested in the circus of religion are desperate for meaning and understanding of their life.  People can't stand to not know what is out there or what's in themselves.  Fuck you, Your alone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3172135940916988381-4765917123516921155?l=herkblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4765917123516921155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3172135940916988381&amp;postID=4765917123516921155' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/4765917123516921155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/4765917123516921155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/2009/08/journal-entry-from-100608.html' title='Journal Entry from 10/06/08'/><author><name>NHerk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13769923767873986080</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172135940916988381.post-8915834981311414034</id><published>2008-10-08T21:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T22:48:17.982-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thoughts on the Political Wasteland of 2008</title><content type='html'>Its funny... Most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Americans&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; get excited about choosing who will be the next ruler of the free world.  In fact, they &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; vote at all.  And why should they?  They're time is tied down in lustrous gossip and relentless digging in the news to find out who is fucking who in Hollywood.  Thank god I say.  These people are too stupid for politics anyway.  They would show up at the polls on that early November morning, barely having enough energy to tear themselves away from Rachel Ray.  When they got there, they would surely break something, and it would probably be our two party system.  Then they would leave the polls with a grin on their face not knowing they created history.  But they will never show up because they're complacent with letting other people make &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;decisions&lt;/span&gt; for them, lazy scum.  It takes work to become educated and vote.  And &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; something that Americans are unwilling to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Election day is rapidly approaching.  Knowing that American people are simple minded both &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;candidates&lt;/span&gt; are smearing shit into the others mouth with negative ads.  I think it's great.  Lets get some of those dumb redneck fucks who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know there dick from a hole in the ground to come out and vote on the basis that Obama is a terrorist.  Shit,  If the only way to get the dumb out is to call your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;opponent&lt;/span&gt; a retard, so be it.  All that means is that Obama has to talk enough shit so he can get the crack smuggling city folk to believe that McCain is an old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;turd&lt;/span&gt; that will drop dead at any moment.  And after he's dead, we'll have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Jesus&lt;/span&gt; freak on our hands.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In dire situations like these I always go to someone for advice.  That person is usually Dr. Thompson.  After reading some fun Gonzo I came to a passage where Dr. Thompson describes that we should all be proud of our votes when we leave the poll.  Will you be proud of your vote in twenty years?  It will always bring a smile to my face to know that I voted &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;against&lt;/span&gt; that evil bastard George Bush.  It will be something I will brag about to my children when they get old enough.  I will vote that way again.  Obama, you better win or else all bets are off, we will be officially screwed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3172135940916988381-8915834981311414034?l=herkblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8915834981311414034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3172135940916988381&amp;postID=8915834981311414034' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/8915834981311414034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/8915834981311414034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/2008/10/random-thoughts-on-political-wasteland.html' title='Random Thoughts on the Political Wasteland of 2008'/><author><name>NHerk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13769923767873986080</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172135940916988381.post-9129759777076851706</id><published>2008-04-04T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T13:44:00.205-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I sit down tonight with no real topic to talk about. I just had what I would consider to be my first real fight with my girlfriend. I have a bottle and am swimming in a lake that I have never been in before. I am listening to the doors in my apartment with a bottle, with a computer, with feelings that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;betray &lt;/span&gt;me, with nothing but truth in my heart. I feel alone but am with the only things that will last me forever. Where do I go from here? I guess I will explore that land that so many have been too, but seems so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;different&lt;/span&gt; to those of us that are just arriving. What will become of me once I say goodbye to one lifestyle and commence the next? A job, I suppose. Weird questions flood my mind. It's like the levies broke inside my head and all the inhabitants will be forced to evolve or be killed. What the hell just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;happened&lt;/span&gt; with that girl? Are you capable of love, or will it drive you mad? Were you better off before or after her? The more I think about it the less I know. The more knowledge I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;acquire&lt;/span&gt; the more I realize that there is no answers. I am growing tired of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;insistent&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;babbling&lt;/span&gt; in my mind, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;insistent&lt;/span&gt; voice of everyone else telling me what to do. They have no real purpose except to keep me from my path, and believe me, this crime should be punishable to death by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;eclectic&lt;/span&gt; chair. This would only be for our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;convenience&lt;/span&gt; for it would allow us to continue our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;pathetic&lt;/span&gt; lives and dive into more important issues like where the fuck is my wallet?&lt;br /&gt;I would rather &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;destroy&lt;/span&gt; all that I know then become apart of that stinky orgy I call conformity.   Conformity will destroy all that I know taking what I love and making it everyone e&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lse's&lt;/span&gt;, either way I'm fucked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3172135940916988381-9129759777076851706?l=herkblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/feeds/9129759777076851706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3172135940916988381&amp;postID=9129759777076851706' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/9129759777076851706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/9129759777076851706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-sit-down-tonight-with-no-real-topic.html' title=''/><author><name>NHerk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13769923767873986080</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172135940916988381.post-5080550450140445001</id><published>2008-03-27T11:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-27T11:30:43.937-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfect Start to My B-Day</title><content type='html'>I step outside to smoke a birthday &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cigarette&lt;/span&gt;.  I know they will kill me, but why not? its my birthday.  Its 12:08 A.M. I was born later that day some 22 years ago.  As I sit patiently smoking, watching the rain my brain turns on.  What the Hell, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;haven't&lt;/span&gt; heard from that bastard for awhile.  I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;listening&lt;/span&gt; to goodbye's echoed off the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;apartment&lt;/span&gt; walls from nearby girls leaving their boyfriends apartment.  I hear car engines turn over, back out, and leave to some unknown destination.  The Rain trickles and that smell of being clean drowns out my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;cigarette&lt;/span&gt;.  At that moment nothing matters.  I am there as an observer, nothing more.  Every person, car, railing, chair, everything was exactly were it needed to be.  It was a moment of bliss.  A moment that has come and gone numerous times in my life.  But I always hope it will visit me one more time.  You never know when it will come, but when it does you know it has to leave.  I thought about many things that night, but after awhile I was tired.  I wrestled my way out of the chair and went inside...  22 yrs ago I was born...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3172135940916988381-5080550450140445001?l=herkblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5080550450140445001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3172135940916988381&amp;postID=5080550450140445001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/5080550450140445001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/5080550450140445001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/2008/03/perfect-start-to-my-b-day.html' title='Perfect Start to My B-Day'/><author><name>NHerk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13769923767873986080</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172135940916988381.post-3981439486491548191</id><published>2008-03-22T13:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T13:52:00.749-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Night We</title><content type='html'>We were in the same apartment, the same room , the same &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;consciousness&lt;/span&gt;, but we were not on the same bed. We sat opposite one another and talked about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;similarities&lt;/span&gt;. We both spoke of the future, and what lies just past the horizon. I was excited because I was graduating. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;excitement&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wasn't&lt;/span&gt; because I was done with school, but because I was free again. She spoke of School to come, experiences she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; wait to turn into memories. We both spoke of the past, relationships that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; end when they should have, mistakes we made, mistakes we fixed, and high school. We stayed away from the present, knowing that neither of us wanted to confont that ugly beast. And Then, it was quiet. usually the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;quiet is&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;disturbing&lt;/span&gt; because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; afraid of my thoughts. But our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;quiet&lt;/span&gt; was perfect. It was the last &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;piece&lt;/span&gt; to the puzzle; together we finally put that peice were it belonged and created something neither of us will forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night was a good night, but i cant happen but think about the reprucussions of my words and actions.  Does she think I'm crazy, or does she finally know?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3172135940916988381-3981439486491548191?l=herkblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3981439486491548191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3172135940916988381&amp;postID=3981439486491548191' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/3981439486491548191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/3981439486491548191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/2008/03/we-were-in-same-apartment-same-room.html' title='The Night We'/><author><name>NHerk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13769923767873986080</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172135940916988381.post-7108395885546460813</id><published>2008-03-19T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-12T10:22:50.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vegas</title><content type='html'>I went to Vegas a few weeks ago. The entire trip was plagued with high speed driving, drinking, and cards. Its always dangerous when someone gets behind the wheel with nothing to loose. Its even worse when they believe that everyone else in the car is in the same boat as them. We made it to Vegas, lord only knows how in one peace, and began are night with shots and beer.&lt;br /&gt;I remember thinking that if we keep the pace than none of us are going to make it to midnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A walk down the strip reminded me why this is the freak capitol of the world. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Luckily&lt;/span&gt; I was stoned and drunk, a combination that makes staring at the wall fun. People of all races stumbled around &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Las&lt;/span&gt; Vegas looking for true happiness. A plethora of cultures clashed and a giant orgy commenced, all to keep us freaks entertained. what we will give up for one night at the freak show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A shock that night was sent my way. One of the blows that knock the wind out of you even though you never were touched.  Panic infiltrated my body and I began to loose sight of what the best procedure would be... I lost myself briefly. but later after debunking the trouble and creating peace once again all throughout the creatures and inhabitants of my head, i continued my drinking. I figured madness would be the best method to get to the other end of the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arrived at my resting area. the problem was that i had no key. The nimrods behind me were distracted by the sex that floated around the city in abundance. finally, they exploded from an overcrowded elevator and saved me by letting me into the room. Luckily they got there when they did because my brain was staring to play savage tricks on me. They saved me from falling out of line with the puzzle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A brief reminder why I don't trust humanity was thrown my way as I was tucking myself in for bed. My brain some how tangled and wrestled with this idea and news for the entire night. However, when I awoke it was go time. I figured shit out, got through the fucked up part of the trip and prepared myself for the long, terrifying road home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3172135940916988381-7108395885546460813?l=herkblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7108395885546460813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3172135940916988381&amp;postID=7108395885546460813' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/7108395885546460813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/7108395885546460813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/2008/03/vegas.html' title='Vegas'/><author><name>NHerk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13769923767873986080</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172135940916988381.post-6337985247964317650</id><published>2008-03-19T14:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T14:26:44.410-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sitting in class Bored'/><title type='text'>What's in a name?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Sanity&lt;/span&gt; in a name?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Conceptualized&lt;/span&gt; in your Brain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Is popularity in a name?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or are you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;indigenous&lt;/span&gt; to lame.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Is intelligence in a name?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or, have you snapped and gone insane.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Is Murder in a name?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or, are you innocent but still to blame.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Is Guilt in a name?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or, do you ignore the sting of shame.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Is love in a name?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or, is it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;despicable&lt;/span&gt; like a stain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;suicide&lt;/span&gt; in a Name? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Or, are you detached from your evolutionary chain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ain't&lt;/span&gt; Shit in a Name, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;except a trap for all your pain.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3172135940916988381-6337985247964317650?l=herkblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6337985247964317650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3172135940916988381&amp;postID=6337985247964317650' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/6337985247964317650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/6337985247964317650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/2008/03/whats-in-name.html' title='What&apos;s in a name?'/><author><name>NHerk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13769923767873986080</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3172135940916988381.post-4398968094804662266</id><published>2008-03-19T13:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-06T13:46:41.551-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Religon and the Miltary</title><content type='html'>The other day (it was Sunday) I was driving home and noticed the lack of colors, that usually floods the streets of Logan. The colors were replaced by solders wearing white shirts and ties marching to a drum beat that I have never been able to hear. The religious soldiers were all going to the same place, moving almost step for step in unison. It reminded me of machines, a thoughtless body marching and never asking why, or where they were going. Well, to Heaven I guess, while the rest of us will go on living and withstanding their attempts to turn us into copies.&lt;br /&gt;Ironically, the other day (it was Sunday) I was reclining at my house, in Sandy, when my younger brother waltzed through the door bragging about how wonderful the military is. He told a story about being forced to make his bed four times until he got it perfect. He continued to tell me about marching and how if you step out of line well... Jesus had it easy. The most amazing part of his entire story was the transformation I witnessed inside of him. He use to think for himself, but now he has turned into a thoughtless body marching and never asking why or where he is going to end up. Heaven I guess, while the rest of us will still be living our lives.&lt;br /&gt;I strongly believe that religion and the military are bureaucracies that were created for specific functions, but both create an externality that is unacceptable for me, and if you read this blog should probably be unacceptable for you. That externality is the stealing of individualism. The coercion to turn all that is infected with their ideology into a conforming, thoughtless citizen. Think for Yourself, don't let others or groups tell you how to live or feel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3172135940916988381-4398968094804662266?l=herkblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4398968094804662266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3172135940916988381&amp;postID=4398968094804662266' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/4398968094804662266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3172135940916988381/posts/default/4398968094804662266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://herkblog.blogspot.com/2008/03/religon-and-miltary.html' title='Religon and the Miltary'/><author><name>NHerk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13769923767873986080</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
