<?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-1556928705249675878</id><updated>2012-02-16T13:02:08.642-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Stuff</title><subtitle type='html'>Thoughts, Feelings, and such.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-3140401662857078209</id><published>2008-09-20T12:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T12:17:57.143-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Im Sorry</title><content type='html'>In the end when it comes down to it&lt;br /&gt;i love you, no other words can say how i feel right now then those&lt;br /&gt;i know you don't care anymore but this is when i need you more then anything and being "just friends" isn't enough. I've never felt a pain as bad as this. I've had the stupid break-ups but those do not hurt as bad as this. I'm done. I'm sorry that i need you in my life and that i want you here by my side. But, I need to move on. I can try, but i'll never forget you or that love i have for you. I will always hide it, from this day forward.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1556928705249675878-3140401662857078209?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/3140401662857078209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=3140401662857078209' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/3140401662857078209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/3140401662857078209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/09/im-sorry.html' title='Im Sorry'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-8221616441404912356</id><published>2008-06-15T17:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T17:49:23.075-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"father"s day</title><content type='html'>there is a meaning behind the word father, am i right?&lt;br /&gt;A father is someone who is always there for their children, someone who cares, who wants to protect his children, who loves them, and all these other things.&lt;br /&gt;Well my father is no longer my father, i look at him as nothing more then a man who lives in my mothers house. He is everything a father isn't. I wouldn't mind this holiday if I had a real father to celebrate it with. I mean when he picks fights with you on HIS day.... its not right.&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/1556928705249675878-8221616441404912356?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/8221616441404912356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=8221616441404912356' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/8221616441404912356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/8221616441404912356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/06/fathers-day.html' title='&quot;father&quot;s day'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-8002254542762672208</id><published>2008-06-09T16:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-09T16:45:10.455-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weirdd</title><content type='html'>Some weird stuff has been going on...&lt;br /&gt;Don't know how to explain it.&lt;br /&gt;Deff scared to death...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstttt - Last night, Don't know if i was dreaming or not, but I believe that someone was in my house, now your probably thinking I'm a lunitic or something but I do believe there was, wether it be (weird I know) a ghost, or a real person, they were deff trying to tell me something. ANDDDD, I heard the sound of a car crash, this is something I have heard before but there was nothing out side of my window, I checked the other neighborhood and everything, And this is just the begining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today- I thought I heard a loud bang on my window, Like a huge rock hitting it or something, I went out to investigate, and Nothing... No rock, Not any trace of anything hitting the window. As I was getting dressed, A freaking computer speaker falls over, it was originally in the middle of my desk. There is NO way that it could have fallen on its own, I mean it sits in the middle of the desk for gods sake. And all of the power to my room was cut off. My room and sisters room are on the same circuit, and her room had power... Just FREAKINGGG ME OUT A LITTLE... =]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh, I don't know or have a clue what any of this means but it means something... grr.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1556928705249675878-8002254542762672208?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/8002254542762672208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=8002254542762672208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/8002254542762672208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/8002254542762672208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/06/weirdd.html' title='Weirdd'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-8961743926335867713</id><published>2008-06-08T09:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T09:39:23.961-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I've</title><content type='html'>I have fallen into my own ways,&lt;br /&gt;Only a few of you know what I have been through, and its not that great. I am trying to change I am, but I gave in. I gave into the pressure of friends and family. The best thing someone has ever told me "Don't care what others say." But I can't say I don't care, because I do, thats part of the reason I am falling. I am sick of hearing that I am stupid, have no common sense, don't deserve what I have, well people who say that can pretty much suck it. I'm just so sick of everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1556928705249675878-8961743926335867713?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/8961743926335867713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=8961743926335867713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/8961743926335867713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/8961743926335867713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/06/ive.html' title='I&apos;ve'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-698960660336978661</id><published>2008-05-29T22:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T22:14:53.352-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Just..</title><content type='html'>Just when I thought things would get easier, they have not. Not by any means.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The guy I like... Over, no more.&lt;br /&gt;2. The guy I got close to... Things are weird now that we see what we did wrong, and I'm lost.&lt;br /&gt;3. My uncle.. As a lot of you know. He has a condition where his spine is turning into one bone, this is a very painful condition. Well we were playing family volleyball, and he landed on his tail bone (attached to your spine) and he went to get up and could not walk. He has two compression fractures. This is the moment of my life, where I had saw the strongest person in my life, just fall apart, and what did I do, I did just that. He went into surgery and all is well, so far.&lt;br /&gt;4. I have to be home this weekend- PLEASE text me because I'm going to be bored/upset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&gt; ughhhh&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1556928705249675878-698960660336978661?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/698960660336978661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=698960660336978661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/698960660336978661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/698960660336978661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/05/just.html' title='Just..'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-855219022649113253</id><published>2008-05-25T01:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T01:42:36.858-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Well..</title><content type='html'>As some of you know, My house has been a very very rough spot to be at the last..well soccer season, before that even. I'm to this point of not even knowing what to do. My dad seems to think that he is the best and likes to control everything I do. My mom on the other hand is accepting that I am going to be 17 in like 4 months, and she is starting to give me that space that I need. This weekend, a fight occured, Dad saying I haven't done anything for them, I don't do chores and I expect the world? Well, he is wrong, with soccer I was never able to do anything in the week so I did what I wanted on the weekends, this pissed him off, He started telling me I couldn't do anything, and then today, ONE DAY after my season ends and I have time to do something, he yells at me because I wasn't doing it correctly, or just doing something stupid. I left, Aunts house until monday, anyone have any ideas??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&gt;don't know what to dooooooooooo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--Morg&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1556928705249675878-855219022649113253?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/855219022649113253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=855219022649113253' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/855219022649113253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/855219022649113253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/05/well.html' title='Well..'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-6938842616459392378</id><published>2008-05-22T20:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-22T20:23:29.769-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Horoscope.</title><content type='html'>Today I got on yahoo.com, like I do everyday, But today this is what my horoscope was:&lt;br /&gt;"You're in charge of your feeling today, which means it's a lot easier to confront people who usually freak you out for some reason. Show a friend how it's done!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I confronted the one person that has intimidated me since I have started soccer. He told me ever since I had an incredibly hard practice that he is really happy with my work rate, that I work my butt everyday, and have since that practice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess it was a mission of mine to impress him, I have never felt good enough, but now that I have talked to him about things I can do, or what not, I feel like I have let a weight off my shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love how life works, I read my horoscope wondering..."What the...?" and now, I know life gives you hints, simply reading something can determine how your day goes. Its amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1556928705249675878-6938842616459392378?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/6938842616459392378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=6938842616459392378' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/6938842616459392378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/6938842616459392378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/05/horoscope.html' title='Horoscope.'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-1453500491324522131</id><published>2008-05-20T21:40:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T21:50:47.123-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A new me?</title><content type='html'>I have been thinking a lot lately about how I act, What I do, the things that I say, and have decided that I try this &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;new&lt;/span&gt; start one more time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I have been talking to someone that I talk to on a normal basis, but things got a little to out of hand. I love this kid to death, but the things that were said are not things that we should exactly encourage. I realize that this is wrong, thats the important thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, For this boy that I like, he is nice, funny, smart, and knows how to make me laugh, he is my friends EX, see a problem? Well I do. There are pro's and con's for each side, but I have decided that I will in fact date him...Still no problem...He has these days that make me wonder if he really likes me or not. He acts like it for a few days, and then we just don't talk. I am not going to be doing all the talking, he really needs to drop those habits of his, and just step up... Problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need to start over, I have all the time in the world now that soccer is over, I am pushing myself to new challenges, like taking two honors classes next year, and by starting to get more evolved in my school. Ex) Joining Link Crew, Wanting to be on student council, picking up dance, and a travel soccer league. Basically, just keeping myself as busy as possible and by making as many friends as I absolutely can. I realized that I am not totally happy with all of my friends, having many many more would give me that confidence boost I have been needing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;More Later.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1556928705249675878-1453500491324522131?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/1453500491324522131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=1453500491324522131' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/1453500491324522131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/1453500491324522131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/05/new-me.html' title='A new me?'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-6841909481965301641</id><published>2008-05-20T21:04:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T21:05:29.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Right Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 102, 204);font-size:130%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;I have changed, this I know. I like people I never would have before, I give people more chances then they deserve. I have a "good life", parents who are still together, who love me, who are wayyy to protective. I believe in God with all of my heart. I have overcome many obstacles that have been put in my way. I have many friends and a guy who likes me for me. I have what some others don't have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"&gt;Yet, I am not happy? Why, I have no idea, it makes no sense to me. There is a reason I am not happy, maybe its because I'd rather see others happy, not myself. I walk away from fights and lose friends over it. Life is confusing, I don't even remember how to think. I have the right morals and the right decision making skills to make others happy, but I don't know how to even make myself happy?... That is a problem.&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/1556928705249675878-6841909481965301641?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/6841909481965301641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=6841909481965301641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/6841909481965301641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/6841909481965301641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/05/life-right-now.html' title='Life Right Now'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-1713532630980142634</id><published>2008-05-20T21:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T21:04:33.196-04:00</updated><title type='text'>For You My Friends</title><content type='html'>To you who say I can't do something,&lt;br /&gt;to you who think I can't so something right,&lt;br /&gt;to you who think I am not strong,&lt;br /&gt;to you who say I am not capable of playing a sport,&lt;br /&gt;to you who say or think bad things about me,&lt;br /&gt;to you who doubt me in any way shape or form,&lt;br /&gt;to myself who doubts I can do anything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will prove you wrong,&lt;br /&gt;I will prove myself wrong.&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/1556928705249675878-1713532630980142634?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/1713532630980142634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=1713532630980142634' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/1713532630980142634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/1713532630980142634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/05/for-you-my-friends.html' title='For You My Friends'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-5043518640524013340</id><published>2008-05-20T21:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T21:03:22.404-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Home</title><content type='html'>Some say home is where the heart is,&lt;br /&gt;well I have lost all heart for what should be my "home"&lt;br /&gt;I don't even spend that much time at home&lt;br /&gt;but when I do it is 'cause I am fighting with my mom or dad,&lt;br /&gt;they are so tight on me, but what about my sister,&lt;br /&gt;she treats my parents like crap, and cusses at them,&lt;br /&gt;I don't do that, I respect them, and I still get punished.&lt;br /&gt;I miss being a little kid and not have any responsibilities,&lt;br /&gt;cause now, every time I turn around I am in trouble for&lt;br /&gt;not doing something, not doing it correctly, doing something&lt;br /&gt;that I was told to do, and its stupid; And they wonder why&lt;br /&gt;I want to move away to go to school..... amazing isn't it.&lt;br /&gt;I mean who wouldn't want to move away for college!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;--2 years and some months :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1556928705249675878-5043518640524013340?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/5043518640524013340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=5043518640524013340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/5043518640524013340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/5043518640524013340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/05/home.html' title='Home'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-8570770084157507425</id><published>2008-01-06T17:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T17:33:30.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Friends they come and go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;the true ones never leave&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;They love you no matter what&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;You can call them crying at 4&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;and they will ask "who's ass am i beating?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;they don't care what you look like&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;They dont care how much you mess&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Up but they will promise to stay by100%&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt; They won't hurt you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;They won'ttalk bad about you when your not around&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;they will always tell you they are sorry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;and you will always end the night happy,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;with out a fight. I have many good good&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;friends in my life. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;But I have 3 bestfriends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Erika- you have been there for me no matter whatyour like my sister. i love you to death&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Tyler-DOODE amazing times, i think we talkedabout them the other night. (= your honestlythe ONE guy i can tell everything too and won'tlook at me any differently, ily!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff99ff;"&gt;Manda- i sooo love you! mannny mannny good timeshahah i can tell you ANYTHING and feel completelyconfident that we will keep it to ourselves, we havehurt each other to much not to learn that! ILY (never will change)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends are life, deal with it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1556928705249675878-8570770084157507425?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/8570770084157507425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=8570770084157507425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/8570770084157507425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/8570770084157507425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/01/friends.html' title='Friends'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-8235667246069564205</id><published>2008-01-06T17:30:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T17:30:19.642-05:00</updated><title type='text'>2007</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;the year 2007 has made me think to myself what an amazing year it has been.i have had a wonderful time with all of my friends, and sure i have been a meanie everyonce and a while, but this year, i have changed in sooo many ways. I am more mature, and more accepting of everything and everyone. i am a lot more laid back and a ton of other stuff. i think about the bad things that have happened in 2007, and realized that i have gained SO much more then i have lost. i have made friendships stronger, i have lost those who really didnt care about me. i fell in "lust" and thought it was the real deal, but i learned how to love and what that feels like.I will look at 2008 with open eyes and an open mind. 2007 was great, but 2008 will be sooooooooo much better. (=&lt;br /&gt;-Yay!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1556928705249675878-8235667246069564205?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/8235667246069564205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=8235667246069564205' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/8235667246069564205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/8235667246069564205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/01/2007.html' title='2007'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-8158362916061987622</id><published>2008-01-06T17:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T17:29:35.017-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Love;–noun&lt;br /&gt;1.&lt;br /&gt;a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;2.&lt;br /&gt;a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;3.&lt;br /&gt;sexual passion or desire.&lt;br /&gt;4.&lt;br /&gt;a person toward whom love is felt; beloved person; sweetheart.&lt;br /&gt;5.&lt;br /&gt;(used in direct address as a term of endearment, affection, or the like): Would you like to see a movie, love?&lt;br /&gt;6.&lt;br /&gt;a love affair; an intensely amorous incident; amour.&lt;br /&gt;7.&lt;br /&gt;sexual intercourse; copulation.&lt;br /&gt;8.&lt;br /&gt;(initial capital letter) a personification of sexual affection, as Eros or Cupid.&lt;br /&gt;9.&lt;br /&gt;affectionate concern for the well-being of others: the love of one's neighbor.&lt;br /&gt;10.&lt;br /&gt;strong predilection, enthusiasm, or liking for anything: her love of books.&lt;br /&gt;11.&lt;br /&gt;the object or thing so liked: The theater was her great love.&lt;br /&gt;12.&lt;br /&gt;the benevolent affection of God for His creatures, or the reverent affection due from them to God.&lt;br /&gt;13.&lt;br /&gt;Chiefly Tennis. a score of zero; nothing.&lt;br /&gt;14.&lt;br /&gt;a word formerly used in communications to represent the letter L.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;-verb (used with object)&lt;br /&gt;15.&lt;br /&gt;to have love or affection for: All her pupils love her.&lt;br /&gt;16.&lt;br /&gt;to have a profoundly tender, passionate affection for (another person).&lt;br /&gt;17.&lt;br /&gt;to have a strong liking for; take great pleasure in: to love music.&lt;br /&gt;18.&lt;br /&gt;to need or require; benefit greatly from: Plants love sunlight&lt;br /&gt;19.&lt;br /&gt;to embrace and kiss (someone), as a lover.&lt;br /&gt;20.&lt;br /&gt;to have sexual intercourse with.&lt;br /&gt;21.&lt;br /&gt;to have love or affection for another person; be in love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;All of these are the "definations" of love, but do they really say what love is?&lt;br /&gt;Love- is a word I have yet to understand. I know that it means this much; the uncontainable happiness you feel when you with the person, even thinking about them; the uncontrolable care you have for a certain person; The obsession of that person, thinking about them all the time, them and only them; most importantly, its when you care about another person more then you care for yourself; you would rather see that person happy then you; you would want to be the one in pain, not them; you want to consintaly be around them all the time; and you just want to hold them in your arms no matter what time of day it is. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;This is not even the real definiation it is just what I have come to decide on what love is, from what I have experienced, sure, I probably do not know what love is, but i am willing to try to love someone and mess up, and then know what to expect when the right one comes along, it will be better then anything I have ever experienced (= And for that love to come, I can not wait, but I am willing to wait a lifetime for it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1556928705249675878-8158362916061987622?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/8158362916061987622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=8158362916061987622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/8158362916061987622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/8158362916061987622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/01/love.html' title='Love'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-5423160904715240916</id><published>2008-01-06T17:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T17:26:05.982-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Life is about mistakes, and messing up, and not looking back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Life is about not having any regrets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Its about learning to deal with the problems you are faced with&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Its about living like its your last dayits about finding love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;and finding that one person who you want to spend your last days with&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;its about loving your friends and loving every minute of it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Life is just about being crazy and having fun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;and being happy and pleasing yourself, and no one else.&lt;br /&gt;Life is beautiful, so enjoy it while you have it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1556928705249675878-5423160904715240916?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/5423160904715240916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=5423160904715240916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/5423160904715240916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/5423160904715240916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/01/life.html' title='Life'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1556928705249675878.post-370769563605414686</id><published>2008-01-06T17:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T17:24:33.911-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Miss You</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;i miss you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The times we had together where cut short&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;from my actions and from yours&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;together we could have been perfect.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;we were perfect until i had to mess that up &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;now my heart is longing for what i miss &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;and i won't ever get that back.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#cc66cc;"&gt;i miss....you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1556928705249675878-370769563605414686?l=morganrholt.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/feeds/370769563605414686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1556928705249675878&amp;postID=370769563605414686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/370769563605414686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1556928705249675878/posts/default/370769563605414686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://morganrholt.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-miss-you.html' title='I Miss You'/><author><name>Morgan Holt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10718062540016568487</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_4aUuHYF51FU/R4FSFBwAwtI/AAAAAAAAAAM/OeiUYJL5AXs/S220/Picture+116.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
