﻿<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?><rss version="2.0"><channel><title>andyru's Xanga</title><link>http://www.xanga.com/andyru</link><description>Latest Xanga weblog from andyru</description><language>en-us</language><ttl>60</ttl><image><title>The Weblog Community</title><url>http://s.xanga.com/images/xangalogobutton.gif</url><link>http://www.xanga.com/andyru</link></image><item><title>Monday, September 26, 2005</title><link>http://www.xanga.com/andyru/355312384/item.html</link><guid>http://www.xanga.com/andyru/355312384/item.html</guid><pubDate>Mon, 26 Sep 2005 06:14:03 GMT</pubDate><description>&lt;P dir=ltr style="MARGIN-RIGHT: 0px"&gt;a long time ago, a close friend once told me that i have an aversion to familiarity. its true. i love living for the risk of things,&amp;nbsp;taking that leap of faith, the explosiveness of life.&amp;nbsp;three years later, i still find myself struggling to settle, longing for a new unknown to explore. everything just feels so old, i find myself hardening to things left and right. perhaps thats the reason i drown myself in a demanding, hectic life, yearning for something fresh to invigorate me, though in the back of my mind i know the next thing i find can only be temporary. i cant help it. i have a very fiery, passionate character, and i cannot help but throw myself headfirst into everything i do. its a strength that is just as much a flaw. sometimes i feel that the only thing that awaits me is apathy.&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P dir=ltr style="MARGIN-RIGHT: 0px" align=left&gt;i cant remember what it feels like to experience something for the first time. what it feels like to be surprised. ive come to expect the worst from everyone, from everything, but hope for the best. i cant remember the last time i was honestly surprised by something. i miss the&amp;nbsp;simple joy of&amp;nbsp;discovering new things, enjoying small surprises. i miss the feeling of accomplishing something so great, you know that it'll take a lifetime to forget. i miss the feeling of euphoria that just&amp;nbsp;erupts inside when something good happens to you. i cant remember what it feels like to be driven, what it feels like to have the rush of adrenaline flowing in your veins with every step you take, what it feels like to live your life with passion and purpose.&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P dir=ltr style="MARGIN-RIGHT: 0px" align=left&gt;however, life moves on, with or without you. you do, or you dont. you wont, or you cant. we do what we think is right, what&amp;nbsp;we think is good,&amp;nbsp;no matter how old it gets. sometimes you even have to lie to yourself to keep yourself going.&amp;nbsp;suck it up kiddo, its life.&lt;/P&gt;</description><comments>http://www.xanga.com/andyru/355312384/item.html#firstcomment</comments></item><item><title>Monday, May 09, 2005</title><link>http://www.xanga.com/andyru/259175095/item.html</link><guid>http://www.xanga.com/andyru/259175095/item.html</guid><pubDate>Mon, 09 May 2005 15:53:35 GMT</pubDate><description>&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; alpha iota class&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;&lt;IMG src="https://webspace.utexas.edu/ahl85/foormal%20class.JPG?uniq=29id0x"&gt;&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;This is OUR time now. Let that be known.&lt;/P&gt;</description><comments>http://www.xanga.com/andyru/259175095/item.html#firstcomment</comments></item><item><title>Wednesday, April 14, 2004</title><link>http://www.xanga.com/andyru/80277948/item.html</link><guid>http://www.xanga.com/andyru/80277948/item.html</guid><pubDate>Wed, 14 Apr 2004 02:03:30 GMT</pubDate><description>&lt;P&gt;jacked from nance's profile..&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;the question, "why do children suffer?" has no answer, unless it's simply, "to break our hearts."&amp;nbsp; once our hearts get broken, they never fully heal.&amp;nbsp; they always ache.&amp;nbsp; but perhaps a broken heart is a more loving instrument.&amp;nbsp; perhaps only after our hearts have cracked wide open, have finally and totally unclenched, can we truly know love without boundaries. &lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; - &lt;B&gt;if i get to five&lt;/B&gt;&lt;/P&gt;</description><comments>http://www.xanga.com/andyru/80277948/item.html#firstcomment</comments></item><item><title>Tuesday, March 16, 2004</title><link>http://www.xanga.com/andyru/72078286/item.html</link><guid>http://www.xanga.com/andyru/72078286/item.html</guid><pubDate>Tue, 16 Mar 2004 03:46:24 GMT</pubDate><description>&lt;P&gt;heh i was walkin around my sister's apartment when i tripped on this funnylooking book. i picked it up and read the cover. this excerpt caught my attention&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;"Unfortunately, most of us have little sense of our talents strengths, much less the ability to build our lives around them. Instead, guided by our parents, by our teachers, by out managers, and by psychology's fascination with pathology, we become experts in our weaknesses and spend our live tryin to repair these flaws, while our strengths lie dormant and neglected."&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;is that not often too true? our weaknessess have often become the focus of our efforts. both sides can be argued, but its interesting how trends reverse themselves after overcompensation.&lt;/P&gt;</description><comments>http://www.xanga.com/andyru/72078286/item.html#firstcomment</comments></item><item><title>Tuesday, January 20, 2004</title><link>http://www.xanga.com/andyru/57647729/item.html</link><guid>http://www.xanga.com/andyru/57647729/item.html</guid><pubDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2004 04:07:06 GMT</pubDate><description>&lt;FONT color=#666699&gt;
&lt;P&gt;heh just for kicks im gonna leave this up from last time.&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;SPAN class=blacksmall&gt;&lt;B&gt;"The more things change, the more they stay the same. &lt;/B&gt;I'm not sure who the first person was who said that. Probably Shakespeare. Or maybe Sting. But at the moment, it's the sentence that best explains my tragic flaw: my inability to change.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/SPAN&gt;&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;&lt;SPAN class=blacksmall&gt;I don't think I'm alone in this. The more I get to know other people, the more I realize it's kind of everyone's flaw. Staying exactly the same for as long as possible, standing perfectly still... It feels safer somehow. And if you are suffering, at least the pain is familiar. Because if you took that leap of faith, went outside the box, did something unexpected... Who knows what other pain might be out there, waiting for you. Chances are it could be even worse. &lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;So you maintain the status quo. Choose the road already traveled and it doesn't seem that bad. Not as far as flaws go. You're not a drug addict. &lt;FONT color=#cc3366 size=2&gt;You're not killing anyone... except maybe &lt;B&gt;yourself &lt;/B&gt;a little.&lt;/FONT&gt; 
&lt;P&gt;When we finally do change, I don't think it happens like an earthquake or an explosion, where all of a sudden we're like this different person. I think it's smaller than that. The kind of thing most people wouldn't even notice unless they looked at us really close. Which, thank God, they never do. "&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;-ephram brown&lt;/P&gt;
&lt;P&gt;&lt;B&gt;&lt;FONT color=#666699&gt;heh like i said before, something that makes ya think. not really describing me though - sometimes my flaw&amp;nbsp;seems to be&amp;nbsp;more of my inability to not change. jon once told me that i have an aversion to familiarity, and i think he's right. heh i totally live for the risk of things. taking that leap of faith is what life is all about for me. the adrenaline rush, the pressure, the sense of urgency - i love it. when&amp;nbsp;you do change, it may not seem large to the outside eye, but to your own eye its the the earthquake of a lifetime.&lt;/FONT&gt;&lt;/B&gt;&lt;/P&gt;&lt;/SPAN&gt;</description><comments>http://www.xanga.com/andyru/57647729/item.html#firstcomment</comments></item></channel></rss>