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Dec. 7th, 2005 @ 10:19 pm Ganked from Jen
Current Mood: crazy
Go to your Calendar and find the first entry for each month of 2005 (not including memes of course). Post the first line of it in your journal, and that's your "Year In Review."

January 05

Oh Alucard, where have you been all my life?

February 05

nothing

March 05

nothing

April 05

It's been awhile, hasn't it?

May 05

JENNNNNNNN

June 05

(Love Nothing)

July 05

What you see is a dying world...

August 05

nothing

September 05

nothing

October 05

nothing

November 05

nothing

December 05

Ganked from Jen



Haha, look at all the nothing. Sigh.
About this Entry
Aug. 24th, 2005 @ 03:46 pm (no subject)
Pure Nerd
56 % Nerd, 39% Geek, 47% Dork
For The Record: A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia. A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one. A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions. You scored better than half in all Nerd, earning you the title of: Pure Nerd. The times, they are a-changing. It used to be that being exceptionally smart led to being unpopular, which would ultimately lead to picking up all of the traits and tendences associated with the "dork." No-longer. Being smart isn't as socially crippling as it once was, and even more so as you get older: eventually being a Pure Nerd will likely be replaced with the following label: Purely Successful. Congratulations!




My test tracked 3 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:


free online dating free online dating
You scored higher than 52% on nerdiness

free online dating free online dating
You scored higher than 65% on geekosity

free online dating free online dating
You scored higher than 70% on dork points
Link: The Nerd? Geek? or Dork? Test written by donathos on OkCupid Free Online Dating
About this Entry
Jul. 21st, 2005 @ 01:34 am What you see is a dying world...
Current Mood: creative
Lately I've been trying to do more artistic, creative projects. I've gotten really into stitching, into working with the string that Jen and I got when she was here. I feel like I've been doing a pretty good job for having never sewn a day in my life, but I haven't really gotten any praise for it.

Here's the thing: for some reason, I feel like I need some sort of praise to be proud of anything I do. I can never just accept something I do for myself as being good, unless someone ELSE tells me it is. Does this come from low self esteem? Does it come from the bottomless pit of self pity and self loathing that has engulfed my soul? How emo. Why are you my justification for living, public? Why do I care so much what you think? Why, when I will never talk to most of you again? Why can't I be proud of my own hard work on my own, without someone giving me permission?

And then there is the ever present conundrum: even when someone praises me, I usually don't believe them. Why should I, when I've been lied to so often? When everyone thinks they have to tell each other how much they themselves suck and the other person is so much better at life, when it's just not true? No one tells the truth. No one.

Truth is the best tribute to the living, and we don't even embrace it. Truth is life's highest praise, our highest justification for living, and most of the time we won't stick to our beliefs, whatever they may be. We buckle under the constant pressure of an ever changing society, giving up to A) overzealous Christians or B) angsty "goth" teens who know so much about life at the ripe old age of 15. we don't stand up for what we believe in, and when we do we are persecuted for it. Now don't get me wrong, I fucking HATED those kids in high school who did stick up for what they believed in, which was trying to convert the whole universe to be just like them. Holding your own against the onslaught of various beliefs and so called answers is one thing, while trying to force people to swallow your truths by shoving it down their throats until they choke on it is quite another.

I suppose this sounds very contradictory and contrite, but I don't give a damn what you think, right?

My point is just that some people need to stop thumping their bibles and torahs and qu'ran (sp? my ignorance is astounding) and just embrace the teachings of each individually, and as one. And here is the hypocracy of it all, because I would find it extremely difficult to drag my fat ass over to the middle east to help out and preach my OWN beliefs.

But wait, why is that?

Because I don't fucking want to die.



Funny how my arts and crafts entry turned into a world lecture.
About this Entry
Jun. 27th, 2005 @ 03:43 am (Love Nothing)
First with your hands, then with your mouth.
Downpours of sweat, damp cotton clouds.
I was a fool, you were my friend. We made it happen...

You took off your clothes, left on the light.
You stood there so brave, you used to be shy.
Each feature improved, each movement refined,
and eyes like a show room.

Now we're spreading out the blankets on the beach.
The weather man's a liar, he said it'd be raining,
but it's clear and blue as far as i can see.

Left by the lamp, right next to the bed,
on a cartoon cat pad, she scrached with a pen:
"Everything is as its always been, this never happened.
Don't take it too bad, it's nothing you did,
just once something dies, you can't make it live.
You're a beautiful boy, you're a sweet little kid.
But I am a woman."
So I layed back down, wrapped myself in the sheet.
And I must have looked like a ghost, because something fightened me,
and since then I've been so good at vanishing.

Now I do as I please, and I lie through my teeth.
Someone might get hurt, but it wont be me.
She'll probably feel cheap, but I'll just feel free,
and a little bit empty.
No, it isn't so hard, to get close to me,
there will be no arguements, we'll always agree.
And I'll try and be kind, when I ask you to leave,
we'll both take it easy.

If you stay to long, inside my memory,
I will trap you in a song tied to a melody.
And I'll keep you there so you can't bother me.
About this Entry
May. 13th, 2005 @ 09:17 pm (no subject)
Current Mood: happy
JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!

JENJENJENJENJENJENJENJENJENJENJENJEN


JEN.



Jen-ness.
About this Entry
Apr. 8th, 2005 @ 09:05 pm It's been awhile, hasn't it?
Current Mood: enraged
I am depressed, suprise suprise.

I have been having no relationship problems for a while, which is amazing. Robert and I fight so much. But we stopped for a little while. And then....and then this. This. This bomb got dropped. It's the most ridiculous thing, and it broke my heart. Crushed the shredded remains of my self esteem.

I am not the beauty I thought I was.

You are not the beautiful soul I accused you of being.

I feel so lonely, but almost everyone I know has done this. Has gone through this. It is nothing, though. Nothing at all, just...god, I don't even know. It broke my heart way too easily. It's so stupid.

I am so lonely, so fucking sick of sitting here alone, weekend after weekend. I tried to make plans this weekend, they fell through. No big shocker there.

I cannot believe how ill this whole thing makes me, how...disgusted. Used. Abused. Vile.

You are not a fucking animal. Men are not fucking animals.



You just act like pigs, that's all.


I fucking hate this. Life.

I hate how fucking emo and goth everyone is. I read this girl's journal, and I've been peeking at her friends' also. It makes me so fucking sick. They are all in high school, most of them about two years younger than I am, which is not that much, I know. I'm not a wise, sage old woman, I know. But jesus. They're so fucking...ugh. Okay, here's a quote from one little girl's journal:

(from journal xXtragic_endingsXx) (gimme a fucking break)
"you don't know what pain is until your not allowed to take any medicine to stop it"

and also

"anybody want to kill me with a razorblade?"

You think suicide is so fucking cool? You think it is so fucking in style? You don't know what pain is, you sick fucks. You cowards. If you thought your life was so fucking tragic, you'd go through with it and save the world some fucking grief, you god damn cowards. You make me sick. You taint the world with your vile fucking words and your poor poor, suburban tragedies.

I may come off as a hypocrite in this one, but I will disagree. I don't want to die. I don't think it's cool. I don't think my life has all the tragedy of a Greek saga. My life has its ups and downs, that's true. More downs lately. But I've seen what true depression is. I've cleaned the blood dripping off of my best friend's arm after what she did to herself. I don't show my depression off like a fucking accessory, to be waved around and worn like a fucking necklace. I'm not proud of my grief.


I'm out of high school.
About this Entry
Jan. 29th, 2005 @ 12:08 am Poetic Stab in the Dark
Current Mood: calm
There was a sinner, sinned against,
and a saint- a sinner.
The sinner was unsmiling,
but this saint's a grinner.

The saint, he was a manic one,
in his eyes lies glimmer.
Self righteousness, the likes of which,
off his tongue it slithers.

The sinner was an innocent,
on her cheeks tears shimmer.
She fears her mind and soul are lost,
and her heart has withered.

Which heaven sent and which hell bent?
The truth will make you shiver.
For one's a sinner, sinned against,
and the saint's a sinner.
About this Entry
Jan. 24th, 2005 @ 12:08 am 6 out of 7 red flags...
Current Mood: predatory
How delightfully appalling.

I dunno. I don't have much to say. Nothing deep, nothing complex, nothing even interesting.

I'm still trying to find a job. I'm having about as much luck as my father. That is to say, none at all.

School is the same as it ever was. A girl was murdered on Wednesday night. I did not know her, but I know the most intimate details of her death. Who was there, where they sustained their injuries, who the culprit was, even where the victim was stabbed, I know. But this girl's last name? A mystery. Isn't that odd how things are?

Count: 6 out of 7.
Verdict: I am in an abusive relationship.
Notable fact: I am the abuser.

How quaint.
About this Entry
Jan. 16th, 2005 @ 12:03 pm Oh Alucard, where have you been all my life?
Current Mood: embarrassed
I had the /hottest/ dream last night about Alucard from Hellsing. How dorky is that?

Not the movie. The anime.
Yeah, dorky.

It was *so* hot though. MMm.

I am a weirdo dork. Sigh.

I've always had the weirdest dreams, ever since I was tiny. I remember dreams from before I was old enough to talk. When I lived with my mom (from birth-12 years old), I would always follow her around the house in the morning while she got ready for work to tell her my dreams that night. She'd get so frustrated. She makes fun of me for it still.


God. SO. HOT.

Does anyone else have dreams about cartoon characters? Book characters? At least tv and movie stars are real....ish. Anyone else have a list of cartoons they'd do if they were real? ME ME I DO!
About this Entry
Jan. 3rd, 2005 @ 12:55 pm (no subject)
my pet!




my pet!





LOOKIT HOW AWESOME! Click them, and move your mousie around, they will play!
About this Entry
Oct. 25th, 2004 @ 11:53 pm A REAL update, ladies and gents. Oh fuck, i lied.
Current Mood: indescribable
I am a little depressed. I have been slammed repeatedly lately with how much I want my independence, and exactly how far away from it I truly am. I cannot figure out how to get around these problems either.

I want my own place, and my own car. I want a job, simply for the income. I... you know what, fuck this.


No one really reads this but jen, and it doesnt matter. I might be done with livejournal.


Call this an epiphany, im done.
About this Entry
Oct. 6th, 2004 @ 11:21 pm What a lame update.
Current Mood: relaxed
I want to speak, but I cant breath.
I wish I could see, but I'm too blind to look.
Can't hear, for the covers pulled over my head.
How did I get here?

Where do I even begin?

I wish I could write you a song. I wish I could put it to words. Am I naive enough to dare to hope it will last?

Perhaps.



Through the ups and downs, the stars will always shine for us. For you. For everyone who has ever known this feeling, the stars still shine.
About this Entry
Aug. 17th, 2004 @ 12:43 pm My life!
Current Mood: satisfied
Wee! I'm signed up in college! Sort of. Community college. Does anyone think less of me? I don't care! It's all taken care of and paid for! ha hAA!

Monday, Wednesday, Fridays:
Intro to Philosophy- 11 oo - 11 5o
Art History Survey I- 12 oo - 12 5o

Thursdays: (get this)
YOGA: 2 oo - 2 5o

How awesome is that?? Yoga? Hah!
And NO classes on Tuesdays! Wee!

Replies, please!
About this Entry
Aug. 11th, 2004 @ 02:19 am Confessions
Current Mood: satisfied
This is a story about a boy. A boy on the verge of what he thinks is manhood.

This is a story I never wanted to hear.
Please tell me.
This is the story I torture myself with.
Be honest with me.
This is what makes my heart bleed.
What I begged you for.

DON’T TELL ME.

Whispered implications and harmless friendship. His best friend is in the room, hers is down the hall. It is dark, the pitch black of the cleft between a lover’s legs. The door has been left conveniently coincidentally unlocked. And left open.
He lies awake, trembling with many emotions. Nerves, maybe even a profound sadness for the things to come, but that is doubtful. Mainly all he knows is the one feeling that arises in men, the unbiased opinion of a man, and a man’s needs. But he is yet a boy.

No one hears the bare feet on the thick, lush carpet, or the sound darkness makes as it slips over nearly naked flesh. An inaudible hiss. A small, slim, taught instrument, this body. Intended for use. And use it shall get.

Then again, maybe it happened differently. Maybe he slept soundly, doubting (and yet hoping) for the upcoming events in a dream. Maybe she was naked in this hallway, all shyness stripped away with the flimsy layers of cloth that supported it.

But who is to say?

I don’t want to hear this.
Please for the love of fuck just say it.

She slips between the covers with a lovers’ caress, either awakening him or calming him. A squeak of springs commits the slight, slim figure to joining the tight, lightly muscled one.

A girl, and a boy.

Because now, all that makes a boy a man and a girl a woman is the act that has yet to come.

There are shallow whispers in the depths of this darkness, loss of innocence is on the breath of these children tonight. Bluff talk of love, soul mates, and forever.

Children. Mistaking an eternity for two nights of lust.

Lust. Lust is the dying ember of a campfire while love is the fiery inferno of hell itself.

There is talk, and then there is none.

Did her kisses send shivers down your spine? Did her lips send jolts from head to toe? Do mine?


What followed was the Act. Not the act of love, for neither could have handled that, but an Act none the less. Clumsy motions in two bodies not in sync with one another. One responding too slowly, or anticipating the other incorrectly.
And then…the Act is through. A sour feeling in the air. And a whisper of bare feet on lush carpet.

But maybe not. Maybe it was an excellent experience.

Don’t tell me.
Oh please let me know you love me.

One thing is certain. This boy, not yet a man, and this girl, not yet a woman, shared one thing these nights.

That something was nothing.











Wasn’t it?
About this Entry
Aug. 2nd, 2004 @ 02:42 am Thanks Jen :)
1. Take five books off your bookshelf. [Or on your desk, for the lazy]
2. Book #1 -- first sentence
3. Book #2 -- last sentence on page fifty
4. Book #3 -- second sentence on page one hundred
5. Book #4 --
next to the last sentence on page one hundred fifty
6. Book #5 -- final sentence of the book
7. Make the five sentences into a paragraph:

1: The Gunslinger- Stephen King: The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed.

2: Tehanu- Ursula K. Leguin: And growing, he became a wiry boy, endlessly active, driven; no use on the farm; no patience with animals, plants, people, using words for his needs only, never for pleasure or the give and take of love and knowledge.

3: Blood of the Fold- Terry Goodkind: He hadn't expected laughter.

4:The Odyssey- Homer: He kept Apollo's holy grove at Ismaros...

5: American Gods- Neil Gaiman: He walked away and he kept on walking.

He kept Apollo's holy grove at Ismaros...but he walked away and he kept on walking. And growing, he became a wiry boy, endlessly active, driven; no use on the farm; no patience with animals, plants, people, using words for his needs only, never for pleasure or the give and take of love and knowledge. The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed. He hadn't expected laughter.
About this Entry
Aug. 2nd, 2004 @ 02:35 am Haha! All so correct!

Undies
LJ Username
Your Undies
Who will see you in them mitsolha
Who wants to see you in them rainingfordays
Who will steal them yourxaddiction
This Quiz by lovely_mouse - Taken 25143 Times.
</a>
New - Kwiz.Biz Astrology




My Store
What
Type of store tobacco store
Amount of money you make in a week $734.57
Number of customers in one day 328
Special Item
Is it a success? (8) - Without a doubt. - (8)
This Quiz by lovely_mouse - Taken 173 Times.
</a>
New - How do you get a guy to like you?

About this Entry
Jul. 24th, 2004 @ 02:41 pm Me ME meemememe
1. Who are you?
2. Are we friends?
3. When and how did we meet?
4. Do you have a crush on me?
5. Would you kiss me?
6. Describe me in one word.
7. What was your first impression?
8. Do you still think that way about me now?
9. What reminds you of me?
10. If you could give me anything what would it be?
11. How well do you know me?
12. When's the last time you saw me?
13. Ever wanted to tell me something but couldn't?
14. Are you going to put this on your LiveJournal and see what I say about you?
About this Entry
May. 13th, 2004 @ 11:05 pm (no subject)
Who is in your celebrity family? by cerulean_dreams
User Name
MomWhitney Houston
DadJim Carrey
BrotherAshton Kutcher
SisterCameron Diaz
DogShilo
BoyfriendOrlando Bloom
Best friendMilla Jovovich
Created with the ORIGINAL MemeGen!



Weeeee!
About this Entry
Apr. 21st, 2004 @ 08:47 pm "The Truth About Gay Animals"
Current Mood: Dramatic, I know.
Current Music: thunder
No, truly. That was a show on tv tonight. The Trio channel.

Our lives are turning, changing...blowing past us, into this tumultuous wind. Unsure of where we place our feet, we move unsteadily on, as new birds flapping still wet wings. So we fly. We spread our beautiful wings and flap away from what we know. Good luck, my lovelies. Good luck to you brave featherbrains. Hah. Good luck.

As for me...well. My migration pattern is as unpredictable as ever. Graduation is on my 18th Birthday. May 17. I will have closed another chapter on this life, another section sealed off. From here...I don't really know. I am unable to care for myself, unfit and incapable of supporting myself, so I must once again follow at the footsteps of those that can provide, which takes me, coincidentally, once again away from my loved ones.

As Jen said, it is a stormy night. The weather does not bode well. But we are in Oklahoma, where things are so much worse.


Windswept and rainwashed, I give myself to you. My lovelies.


My friends.
About this Entry
Apr. 4th, 2004 @ 12:30 pm Liquid antagonist?
Current Mood: frustrated
Man, shopping for prom is fucking tough. I can't find what I want, at all...i want to be bondagey and corsetted up, but nobody sells what i had in mind. Blah. like, 3 weeks left.


I love this:
"The rain drummed on. The fire in the hearth hissed its ill will for its liquid antagonist."



So close to graduating...
About this Entry