AHAHAHAHA...

AHAHAHAHAH!!!! GUYS DRIVE ME CRAZY! THEY'RE PSYCHO! THEY SAY WE'RE HARD TO READ, TO UNDERSTAND! SCREW THAT! THERE'S NO WAY! I AM SO FRIGGIN' CONFUSED RIGHT NOW! THERE IS NO WAY! I GIVE UP! ON LIFE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! I WONDER IF THAT WOULD MAKE EVERYONE HAPPY IF I JUST DIDN'T LIVE ANYMORE!! WOULD IT? WOULD THAT MAKE EVERYONE HAPPY???!?!?!?!?!?!?anyway, duval lost bad to harts, aaron's pretty, dork is confusing and a big liar, i still refuse to admit that there is a thing called valentine's day, and, also, today is not it! TODAY IS FRIDAY THE FRIGGIN' 13TH!

okay, I just got ...

okay, I just got done playing like, 3 games of bowling with Jessica. I won 2, btw. But as soon as I got done bowling, I turned on Jay Leno. He's like, one of the best late night hosts, even though I lurve Kilbourn so much more! The only problem with Leno is that his chin reminds me of *~hers~*. Identical. But I turn it on and there's a pregnant woman sitting there. She said, "Thaddeus" something or other. and Jay goes, "So, you're husband is Thaddeus. Thaddeus is an odd name. I don't know many Thaddeus'." Then he names off one or two. She says, "Well, Thaddeus is an odd name, but Thaddeus is a family name. My great grandfather was Thaddeus, my grandfather was Thaddeus, My dad was Thaddeus, My husband is Thaddeus, and My Brother is Thaddeus. I refuse to name any of my children Thaddeus. Thaddeus will not be a name for my family." and that continued for a full five minutes. I was just staring at the television screen, not even blinking the entire time. As soon as that exchange was finished, I turned it. I am now boycotting Jay Leno.

DECEMBER:Loya...

DECEMBER:Loyal and generous. Sexy. Patriotic. Active in games and interactions. Impatient and hasty. Ambitious. Influential in organizations. Fun to be with. Loves to socialize. Loves praises. Loves attention. Loves to be loved. Honest and trustworthy. Not pretending. Short tempered. Changing personality. Not egoistic. Take high pride in oneself. Hates restrictions. Loves to joke. Good sense of humor. Logical.WEll, I don't know how to do all that other stuff, but lena's journal has it all...I'm honest and trustworthy, love attention, love to be loved, hate restrictions, impatient, loyal, i like to think i'm sexy, and fun to be with. I don't take pride in myself and i'm not active in games. I AM NOT LOGICAL! NEVER HAVE BEEN, NEVER WILL BE! I HATE LOGIC!but, yea, most of it's pretty true. Loyal like a dog.

I ca...

I can't control this I can't control this I can't control thisI can't control this I can't control this I can't control thisI can't control this I can't control this I can't control thisI can't control this I can't control this I can't control thisI can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this I can't control this!!And I blame it all on him. I only get sick when I see him in an unscheduled instance, such as the game. I don't know why, but I always get sick after an unexpected meeting, fight, anytime I see him. I can't control it! I don't know why I get so sick! I don't like being sick! I don't make myself sick! I'm not anorexic or anything! I force myself to eat, even when I'm not hungry! I can't loose weight, for if I do, I'll end up in the hospital, because I'm already underweight! I'm not forcing this on myself, and I don't know how to stop it! And it's obviously not one of those things that I can just make go away. Sure, I've been able to hold it back a little, but it just gets worse and worse until I make myself so sick that I can't move! I force myself to pretend I'm not sick, and force myself to pretend I'm not being bothered by him or my stomach, but both just fester and cause more damage than good in the end. I don't know how to make my stomach stay calm when I see him. Just like I have no clue how to force my heart not to beat a little faster, or a smile to come to my face when I'm not remembering that I'm not supposed to care about him anymore. I don't know how to do this. I'm trying to just forget and get over it and not let it bother me...But didn't someone say once that hiding things doesn't solve problems, that it just makes everything worse??I don't know how to correct this.

I'm so very sle...

I'm so very sleepy. I have a sleep headache, but I was awoken by my mother walking in my room to turn off my television and my light. I was having a nice little dream about falling asleep in the arms of Draco Malfoy, with my brother (who just happened to be Ronald Weasley) lying next to me with a girl who looked quite a bit like a brunette cheerleader. And there was a teacher that was strict and corrupt, and I think it was Snape, but he wasn't very greasy. He was very clean, and also had a girl there. We were all just lying there, watching Lizzie McGuire and I was teasing Draco, cuz I was lying on his chest and he wasn't wearing a shirt, so I was biting and licking and stuff like that. Then the phone rang for me, and the cheerleader answered it and the conversation went, "Hello? Crystal, oh, yes, she's right here." and she handed me the phone and lizzie mcguire went off and I woke up cuz it I heard someone behind me. I looked up and my mom said "Go back to sleep." and I kind of whimpered when I said, "It's too late." Gosh, it was so great. I lurve me Drakey Wakey!

My poetry, written mostly in 10th grade. Not much has changed.

Burning BrightIn the NightHate in sightTurn out he lightDie in frightscream loud, with all your might.Hate the lighthate the sighthate the nightfire brighthate the frighthate the rightscream again, with all your might.___________________However you see me,I no longer care.You can’t hurt meSo go on, stare.You’re never going to like me, and I’ll never fit in.You’re not going to change me,I’m the same as I’ve always been.I’ll do what I like,do what I want,do what’s right,and not be what I’m not._____________________My world has changed.Nothing’s the same.Pain took over.Nothing’s as tame.They ask, “What’s happened?”I can’t really say.All I know isI don’t want to stay.Where was everyone?When I needed them?Where was everyone?When I couldn’t comprehend?My world is in shambles,ripped to shreds.What happened?Where were my friends?________________________The tear stained pillows lieunder the headof the girl who no longer cares.The blankets strewn all over the blue carpeted floorwith no concern for the air conditioner on high.The girl that doesnt think she deserves to liveto die.The girl whowears a fake smile andlaughs at what is not funny.The girl who is notpretty enoughsmart enough.The girl that doesnt want to live butdoesnt know how to end it.This girl liesslightly breathingon her tear stained pillows.

The Ex-Duvalian Drug Dealer

Okay, So I've become completely obsessed with finding a certain ex-duvalian drug dealer. I've tried to find anything to keep my mind off the cheating asshole that was my first boyfriend, so I took to reading old journals and looking through old notebooks. I remembered him so well. I remembered his voice and his hair, his jokes and his flirtatious nature, that he happened to have only with me, though. I remembered Kings Island, and Blennerhassett Island. I remembered Lena and I complimenting him on his butt. I don't remember even looking, though. I remember talking to him all the way home from the Island, and I remember a few days later, Shalena saying he was staring at me as I walked away, and...Wow...I remember how perfect everything was if I got to talk to him. The amazing thing is I remember that feeling. It was...not happiness...not love...Peace? Maybe. I don't know. I just remember him so well....Now I'm trying to think of ways to find him. Donnie, maybe? His cousin would definitely know where he was, wouldn't he? But Donnie's not all there, and I'm not trying to be mean. It's just a fact--he's in special ed, along with his younger sister, Jaime. I don't know how much they would know though, I mean, their grandmother probably doesn't keep them in touch with him.Josh also had other ties to Duval. Some not as obvious as others. There's always the Sellers sisters, but I would have to be a complete psycho to inquire about him to either of those girls. Unfortunatley, the one that I am completely convinced would be very well aquainted with the boy's whereabouts is the one person at Duval that frightens me more than any other entity in this universe--The Wiley, with the power of God and The Look that can kill.Would I be stupid enough?? Would I be brave enough?? Would I be obsessed enough?? Would I be ambitious enough?? I say no to two, yes to two. Which two will take over, I wonder? Ask again in a week...

The Ex-Duvalian Drug Dealer

Okay, So I've become completely obsessed with finding a certain ex-duvalian drug dealer. I've tried to find anything to keep my mind off the cheating asshole that was my first boyfriend, so I took to reading old journals and looking through old notebooks. I remembered him so well. I remembered his voice and his hair, his jokes and his flirtatious nature, that he happened to have only with me, though. I remembered Kings Island, and Blennerhassett Island. I remembered Lena and I complimenting him on his butt. I don't remember even looking, though. I remember talking to him all the way home from the Island, and I remember a few days later, Shalena saying he was staring at me as I walked away, and...Wow...I remember how perfect everything was if I got to talk to him. The amazing thing is I remember that feeling. It was...not happiness...not love...Peace? Maybe. I don't know. I just remember him so well....Now I'm trying to think of ways to find him. Donnie, maybe? His cousin would definitely know where he was, wouldn't he? But Donnie's not all there, and I'm not trying to be mean. It's just a fact--he's in special ed, along with his younger sister, Jaime. I don't know how much they would know though, I mean, their grandmother probably doesn't keep them in touch with him.Josh also had other ties to Duval. Some not as obvious as others. There's always the Sellers sisters, but I would have to be a complete psycho to inquire about him to either of those girls. Unfortunatley, the one that I am completely convinced would be very well aquainted with the boy's whereabouts is the one person at Duval that frightens me more than any other entity in this universe--The Wiley, with the power of God and The Look that can kill.Would I be stupid enough?? Would I be brave enough?? Would I be obsessed enough?? Would I be ambitious enough?? I say no to two, yes to two. Which two will take over, I wonder? Ask again in a week...

Just wrote this, posted it on fiction press....wanted to put it on something more....private?

The blood flowed freely, and the young red head knew that these marks would be incredibly hard to cover by morning. She didn't care, though. All that mattered was the burning sensations the small pin was making and the smaller traces of blood she could barely see, willing her to go just a little deeper. She knew that this was wrong, that these scratches shouldn't make her feel better. They stung so bad, but made her whole world feel better. They opened her, like she used to be, open to the entire world. She didn't like to hide, to pretend to be what she wasn't, but that was what she had been doing for a little over a month, and she couldn't handle it any longer. The scratches somehow made her herself again, even if it only lasted for a few seconds while the needle gently slipped over her delicate skin, like a ballpoint pin on thin paper. Her thoughts wondered as she kept scraping mercilessly. "They all call me Ms. Perfect, Ms. Wonderful," she thought as she made an H in the midst of the white and red that she no longer saw as her skin, but as her canvas. With an A came the thought, "I'm always so sickeningly sweet and so fake." And a T brought, "But I can see through it all." Next, an E finally broke the skin as an "I hate him," came flooding out of her tears. But instead of another H to continue her masterpiece, she produced another M below the A. She could feel her emotions, flowing slowly out of these scrapes, like cold air out of a new air conditioner on the hottest day of the summer. It felt so good as she drew another E, and finally, the tears came to an anticlimactic close. She felt, if only for a few seconds, she felt it all end, and it felt so good. Yea, she knew that these marks would be hard to cover the next day. She had never done anything like that, and how could anyone hide the words "HATE ME" tattooed over their perfectly freckled, small, and pale arm? Long sleeves it was, it was winter. And nobody cared anyway.

Just wrote this, posted it on fiction press....wanted to put it on something more....private?

The blood flowed freely, and the young red head knew that these marks would be incredibly hard to cover by morning. She didn't care, though. All that mattered was the burning sensations the small pin was making and the smaller traces of blood she could barely see, willing her to go just a little deeper. She knew that this was wrong, that these scratches shouldn't make her feel better. They stung so bad, but made her whole world feel better. They opened her, like she used to be, open to the entire world. She didn't like to hide, to pretend to be what she wasn't, but that was what she had been doing for a little over a month, and she couldn't handle it any longer. The scratches somehow made her herself again, even if it only lasted for a few seconds while the needle gently slipped over her delicate skin, like a ballpoint pin on thin paper. Her thoughts wondered as she kept scraping mercilessly. "They all call me Ms. Perfect, Ms. Wonderful," she thought as she made an H in the midst of the white and red that she no longer saw as her skin, but as her canvas. With an A came the thought, "I'm always so sickeningly sweet and so fake." And a T brought, "But I can see through it all." Next, an E finally broke the skin as an "I hate him," came flooding out of her tears. But instead of another H to continue her masterpiece, she produced another M below the A. She could feel her emotions, flowing slowly out of these scrapes, like cold air out of a new air conditioner on the hottest day of the summer. It felt so good as she drew another E, and finally, the tears came to an anticlimactic close. She felt, if only for a few seconds, she felt it all end, and it felt so good. Yea, she knew that these marks would be hard to cover the next day. She had never done anything like that, and how could anyone hide the words "HATE ME" tattooed over their perfectly freckled, small, and pale arm? Long sleeves it was, it was winter. And nobody cared anyway.

Just wrote this, posted it on fiction press....wanted to put it on something more....private?

The blood flowed freely, and the young red head knew that these marks would be incredibly hard to cover by morning. She didn't care, though. All that mattered was the burning sensations the small pin was making and the smaller traces of blood she could barely see, willing her to go just a little deeper. She knew that this was wrong, that these scratches shouldn't make her feel better. They stung so bad, but made her whole world feel better. They opened her, like she used to be, open to the entire world. She didn't like to hide, to pretend to be what she wasn't, but that was what she had been doing for a little over a month, and she couldn't handle it any longer. The scratches somehow made her herself again, even if it only lasted for a few seconds while the needle gently slipped over her delicate skin, like a ballpoint pin on thin paper. Her thoughts wondered as she kept scraping mercilessly. "They all call me Ms. Perfect, Ms. Wonderful," she thought as she made an H in the midst of the white and red that she no longer saw as her skin, but as her canvas. With an A came the thought, "I'm always so sickeningly sweet and so fake." And a T brought, "But I can see through it all." Next, an E finally broke the skin as an "I hate him," came flooding out of her tears. But instead of another H to continue her masterpiece, she produced another M below the A. She could feel her emotions, flowing slowly out of these scrapes, like cold air out of a new air conditioner on the hottest day of the summer. It felt so good as she drew another E, and finally, the tears came to an anticlimactic close. She felt, if only for a few seconds, she felt it all end, and it felt so good. Yea, she knew that these marks would be hard to cover the next day. She had never done anything like that, and how could anyone hide the words "HATE ME" tattooed over their perfectly freckled, small, and pale arm? Long sleeves it was, it was winter. And nobody cared anyway.

i'm so fr...

i'm so friggin' miserable in my life right now....I feel like i have no one. I feel like I've lost everything and everyone over the past 2 weeks....Exactly 2 weeks right now....I'm not going to cry again. I haven't cried this week. I'm not going to cry now. I'm always so miserable. I have no feelings, other than misery. I try to hide it. I run around at lunch, biting people, laughing with the people who will actually talk to me, which are all younger bandies, TRYING to act like I'm over this, TRYING to act like I don't care that he's always there. Trying to act like I can sit there and feel like I'm part of a group, part of a crowd. Trying to act like I'm real, and that I believe that this situation is real. I try to act like I don't think that he'll realize his mistake and come back to me. Damn it! I said I wouldn't cry. I have no one. I have nothing. I am no one. I am nothing...WHY CAN'T I JUST FUCKIN' DIE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! THAT'S ALL I WANT, THAT'S ALL I'VE EVER WANTED, THAT'S ALL THAT CAN MAKE THIS GO THE FUCK AWAY, THAT'S ALL THAT CAN MAKE ME FUCKIN' HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!! the only time I was ever happy was when I was with him, I need him! No one else has ever cared. No one else ever felt the need to talk to me, no one wants to be near me, and honestly right now, I don't want to be near anyone else. I just wish that every now and then I could feel something other than pain. I just wish I could make it all go away, just make it my life just go away....that's all i've ever wanted....even in fourth and fifth grades, all I wanted to do was die. I knew even then that I'd never amount to anything. I'd never be pretty, or popular, or have good grades, or be anywhere near the status of Felicia, or BreAnn, or Jessica Coy, or Lena, or anyone. I've never equalled any of them, and I never will. I mean, how fuckin' pathetic is an 18 year old girl whose first boyfriend, who happens to be only 14, just cheated on her, then broke up with her after four months??? There's nothing out there for someone as pathetic and stupid as me, so why should I continue???

AUGH!!!!

you just don't know how horribly frustrating this is getting! It still doesn't seem real, you know? I really still can't believe that it's over, and it's annoying! I just keep thinking about him and me and kissing and...well, other stuff...I just keep wishing that I could still do that stuff...I miss that stuff...But now we're not together, so we can't do stuff anymore. No stuff, no kissing, no holding hands, no touching, flirting, hell, everyone's told me I shouldn't even be talking to him, but I can't bloody well help it, now can I?? I don't want to completely lose him! I don't want to lose him at all, and I can't help but still believe that there is some way, some little thing, that I can do to make him come back to me...A certain way that he wants me to be, something I can say, anything to keep him as mine! I mean, I really can't digest this information, because it just doesn't seem real!! It isn't real, it can't be, but I know it is! I HATE REALITY!!! I wish that I could just dream all the time about me n him...then I wouldn't have to face that we're not together anymore...that I can't kiss him, touch him, feel him....I need his touch...It makes me happy, the only thing that's ever made me happy is his touch, his kiss, his love...I miss him....