Tomorrows valentines day...
And well...
I am a bit ashamed.
This year, I indulged in the halmark sweetness, the fake love that stores are selling.
I bought chocolate fish. And hello kitty valentines.
I'm going to give all thirty four valentines to the same person XD and she's going to be recieving a giant solid chocolate fish as well.
I figured that would let her know how I feel about her. :)
But anyway, I'm curious. If anyone wants to comment, tell me what you're doing for valentines. I'm going to be spending it with my girl, doing whatever she wants to do.
:D
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
Ah, medication...
Recently, by the glory glories of a strings/band concert, I was reaqquainted with someone I haven't talked to since middle school. He plays the trumpet.
But as i remember, this guy was an all around great guy. He was loud, funny, hyperactive, bouncy- the kind of guy that got suspended for arguing with the teacher. He was a cool guy. People liked him because he was loud, funny, and in your face. He was the kind of guy that would wave at trees, and run up to strangers and hug them, all the while grinning that grazy grin.
But ahem. Yes. I met up with him at the concert, and lo and behold, he was boring. Quiet. Tired looking. Kind of chubby.
WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!
So I asked him, "Hey Tarzan, what the hell happened to you?"
And there came his bleary eyed stare and slow answer, "They put me on medication for my adhd."
I was a bit let down. Yet another example of the doped up youth of today.
But this only made me wonder, how long will it be until I'm put on another mood stabilizer, and another antidepressant and another sleeping pill and so on, Until I'm a zombie too?
How long will it be until they get me?
But as i remember, this guy was an all around great guy. He was loud, funny, hyperactive, bouncy- the kind of guy that got suspended for arguing with the teacher. He was a cool guy. People liked him because he was loud, funny, and in your face. He was the kind of guy that would wave at trees, and run up to strangers and hug them, all the while grinning that grazy grin.
But ahem. Yes. I met up with him at the concert, and lo and behold, he was boring. Quiet. Tired looking. Kind of chubby.
WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!
So I asked him, "Hey Tarzan, what the hell happened to you?"
And there came his bleary eyed stare and slow answer, "They put me on medication for my adhd."
I was a bit let down. Yet another example of the doped up youth of today.
But this only made me wonder, how long will it be until I'm put on another mood stabilizer, and another antidepressant and another sleeping pill and so on, Until I'm a zombie too?
How long will it be until they get me?
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
god 'accepts' all people
http://godhatesgoths.com/index.html
----
Um...yeah.
This pissed me off. Check it out for yourself. I hate to call myself anything, label myself a goth, but we share a lot of the same interests, and the attitude toward life.
...As a direct quote from the website:
" Goths are more dangerous to children than pedophiles" - Rev. R.G. Green
Um. Ok Rev.
Another direct quote, from the bible this time:
"No man who has any blemish or defect may come near my altar: no man who is blind or lame, disfigured or deformed; no man with a crippled foot or hand, or who is hunchbacked or is a dwarf, or who has any eye defect, or who has festering or running sores or damaged testicles. For he has a defect; he must not come near to offer the food of his God. Because of his defect, he must not go near the curtain or approach the altar, and so desecrate my sanctuary.” Leviticus 21:18-24
and another:
"God is angry with us. Furious that we let open Satanists walk freely among us when the Bible teaches we should be burning them! "
...Yeah. I should definetly convert to christianity. Because the bible makes me feel so accepted :/
...The above picture is mine :) I downloaded photoshop just so I could make it XD
If you wanna use it, ask me first :D
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Whoo. Holidays.
This year for christmas my mother was nice enough to bless me with a pair of high heels, pink lipstick, a tshirt two sizes too small, and a phone that I can't use because it wasn't purchased from verizon.
She became irritated when I asked for the reciept. She then took back my presents and screamed that she would just use the money to buy herself another pair of boots, because she 'needs' a brown pair.
My mother is quite possibly the most wasteful, selfish whore I know. She has over twenty pairs of shoes that she never wears, buys herself a new cell phone every few months, recently bought a new car that only gets 12 miles to the gallon, wears an enormous amount of makeup, has gotten plastic surgery on her breasts, goes out to eat lunch EVERY DAY, has over thirty purses, and buys a new one every week or so. Her and my eight year old brother, who is also as spoiled, hateful, and selfish as she is, live in a four bedroom, three story house. Two people live in this house. In front of this house sits three cars, all of which my mother owns. My brother has a two hundred dollar stereo in his room, which he never uses. He also has a playstation 2, a psp, two cellphones,(one for home and one for emergencies WTF) My eight year old brother has a pet golden retriever, which is currently starving to death. My brother weighs more than I do (122 lbs!) and is much much shorter than me. My mom takes him along with her to the tanning bed, and both of them sport a nice, hideous burnt toast color. He eats fast food every day, and school food as well, which isnt much healthier. My little brother is violent, loud, annoying, greedy, and heartless. just like my mother.
They have so much money.
I do not. I live with my abusive father and his phsychotic wife in a two bedroom apartment along with a stepsister, who is so homophobic that she won't let me sleep in her bed. I sleep in the floor. We can't afford food half the time. I take a shower every other day, not because i don't need to shower often, but because we can't afford to take showers every day. I pay my own cell phone bill. i do not have a car. I have a nintendo ds, but only because a friend of mine was nice enough to give one to me for my last birthday. I have a record player, which I bought for twenty bucks at a yard sale. I have a vcr player. I have a tape player. I used to have a guitar, but I had to sell it so I could help my dad pay the rent for the apartment. I walk to school while everyone else drives. I can't afford school lunch. I have four pairs of shoes, three of which were purchased at a goodwill. I don't have a purse. I've used the same backpack since I was in sixth grade.
I find it strange how people like my mother and my brother have no idea how to distinguish between 'need' and 'want.' They want things, but say they need them. They throw away money on things they want, but will not lend a dollar to people in need. (like myself)
Sigh. My father gave me a video game for a game system I do not possess. My stepmom gave me a pair of toe socks. My stepsister gave me a kids bop cd, the beatles edition. I wanted to scream.
What is it with my family and horrible gifts?
Ugh. I splurged. I had to. I took my paycheck and bought for myself a heavy wool coat and a bag of fortune cookies. I sat for hours, just opening the fortune cookies and reading my fortunes. I fed the cookies to my brother's starving dog, and felt a little bit better about myself.
Happy holidays. I hope yours was better than mine.
She became irritated when I asked for the reciept. She then took back my presents and screamed that she would just use the money to buy herself another pair of boots, because she 'needs' a brown pair.
My mother is quite possibly the most wasteful, selfish whore I know. She has over twenty pairs of shoes that she never wears, buys herself a new cell phone every few months, recently bought a new car that only gets 12 miles to the gallon, wears an enormous amount of makeup, has gotten plastic surgery on her breasts, goes out to eat lunch EVERY DAY, has over thirty purses, and buys a new one every week or so. Her and my eight year old brother, who is also as spoiled, hateful, and selfish as she is, live in a four bedroom, three story house. Two people live in this house. In front of this house sits three cars, all of which my mother owns. My brother has a two hundred dollar stereo in his room, which he never uses. He also has a playstation 2, a psp, two cellphones,(one for home and one for emergencies WTF) My eight year old brother has a pet golden retriever, which is currently starving to death. My brother weighs more than I do (122 lbs!) and is much much shorter than me. My mom takes him along with her to the tanning bed, and both of them sport a nice, hideous burnt toast color. He eats fast food every day, and school food as well, which isnt much healthier. My little brother is violent, loud, annoying, greedy, and heartless. just like my mother.
They have so much money.
I do not. I live with my abusive father and his phsychotic wife in a two bedroom apartment along with a stepsister, who is so homophobic that she won't let me sleep in her bed. I sleep in the floor. We can't afford food half the time. I take a shower every other day, not because i don't need to shower often, but because we can't afford to take showers every day. I pay my own cell phone bill. i do not have a car. I have a nintendo ds, but only because a friend of mine was nice enough to give one to me for my last birthday. I have a record player, which I bought for twenty bucks at a yard sale. I have a vcr player. I have a tape player. I used to have a guitar, but I had to sell it so I could help my dad pay the rent for the apartment. I walk to school while everyone else drives. I can't afford school lunch. I have four pairs of shoes, three of which were purchased at a goodwill. I don't have a purse. I've used the same backpack since I was in sixth grade.
I find it strange how people like my mother and my brother have no idea how to distinguish between 'need' and 'want.' They want things, but say they need them. They throw away money on things they want, but will not lend a dollar to people in need. (like myself)
Sigh. My father gave me a video game for a game system I do not possess. My stepmom gave me a pair of toe socks. My stepsister gave me a kids bop cd, the beatles edition. I wanted to scream.
What is it with my family and horrible gifts?
Ugh. I splurged. I had to. I took my paycheck and bought for myself a heavy wool coat and a bag of fortune cookies. I sat for hours, just opening the fortune cookies and reading my fortunes. I fed the cookies to my brother's starving dog, and felt a little bit better about myself.
Happy holidays. I hope yours was better than mine.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Satanism is the best thing thats ever happened to me
Ok. I'm not saying any religion is better. I respect people's beliefs, and for the most part, am very polite. I don't bash people, and usually, people are civil, and they don't bash me.
Throughout my life, I've struggled with religion. When I was a kid, my parents dragged me into Christianity. They forced me into dresses and shoes that were too small for my feet. They made me grow my hair out long, because that was feminine, and then they would fix it every sunday, so I would look good and presentable for the masses. They made me pray before meals, before bedtime, which I thought, even then, was kind of silly. They told me that a man called jesus was always watching me, and that if I didn't be careful and be good, all the time, then I would go to a place underground and burn and be tortured- forever.
I was told this often. It depressed me, the fact that I was only about seven or eight years old (i can't remember the exact age) and I had already sinned so much, that I could never really redeem myself and be perfect.
When i was nine, I was sent to a vacation bible school. When I went there, I immediately realized that I was different. According to these people, I was a 'heathen' who was nothing in the eyes of the lord. I hadn't been baptized, cleansed of my sins.
People excluded me because of this. None of the other kids would talk to me. It made me feel horrible. So I did what most kids do when they want to be accepted- I conformed. I didn't even realize what I was doing at first. It was during the 'closing prayer' at the end of the service, and the youth pastor said, " Anyone who has not been baptized, saved from their sins, please come forward"
And I came foreward. I didn't really know what was going on. The pastor asked me if I was ready to become well, to accept Jesus into my heart, and I, a nervous little girl, said yes. I didn't even know what it meant. It was in front of all those people...and I liked it, how they cheered when I said yes, how people slapped me on the back, told me how great I was. I liked how people suddenly started talking to me, how kids came knocking at my door, asking me to come play with them.
So I was baptized. It was in the spring. I was nine. I still didn't really understand. My parents spent hours fixing my hair just so I could be dunked underwater in a heavy robe. Afterwards, i changed into a low cut shirt and a leopard print miniskirt. People patted me on the back and praised me.
I didn't understand.
When I was eleven, I started reading the bible. Immediately, I distrusted it. It just didn't make sense to me. It went against all the science I had been taught in school, and all logic that I knew.
but I didn't say anything. It didn't matter anyway. After three years of kids hanging around me just because I was a christian, they started to look closer. They didn't like me anymore. I may have been christian, but they knew I was different.
I converted to athiesm. It caused many fights, with friends and family. I was depressed. I attempted suicide, many times, and failed, all before i turned fifteen.
Atheism, to me, didn't feel right. it felt better than Christianity, but it wasn't me. It wasn't anything really. To me it was like this big arguement, this big fight, going against everything, snarling and snapping at everyone, "No! You're wrong! You're ALL wrong!"
When i was fifteen, a friend of mine was arrested for narcotics possesion. I wasn't surprised. He was big pill popper, and bought heroin, cocaine, and hallucinogens.
His parents threw away all of his possesions, all his books and clothes. He called me, crying, the day after he was arrested, telling me to 'save his books.'
I went by his house and collected an armload of books from the curb. Among them, was the Satanic Bible, written by Anton lavey.
It caught my attention. Out of curiosity, i cracked it open.
My life changed. My personality changed. I became quieter, speaking only when i felt absolutely nessessary. I was polite, focused, and intense. I held respect for those who respected me, and disdain for loud, ignorant people. I stopped paying attention to what other people thought about me, I still indulged in drugs every now and then, yes, but somehow, through doing drugs only when i wanted to, instead of when i needed to, I weaned myself of them completely. My grades got higher. I felt better. I felt accepted.
I became a laveyan satanist.
For a while, people didn't even know. My parents knew, and they still scoffed at me whenever it was mentioned (which wasnt often) but other than that, not many people knew.
But of course, people always find out. Someone noticed my inverted cross necklace, which i wore at all times, usually hidden under my shirt, more for my comfort than anything. And then they started asking. They got curious. Rumors were started.
But the funniest thing was that they weren't true. I was a satanist, but I didn't kill babies. I didn't drink blood. I didn't burn churches or break into homes at night. I didn't deal drugs or corrupt children. I didn't perform 'satanic' rituals or participate in orgies. In fact, I was quite the opposite. I got good grades and read and pretty much kept to myself. I spoke intelligently and painted beautiful pictures that made the art teacher swoon and exclaim over my talent. I wrote morbid short stories, and was referred by several teachers to go to a special school for writers such as myself. I played the violin, rather well, despite the fact that I performed in combat boots, and dark sunglasses. I didn't cake on makeup, or wear clothes that were too revealing. Although I like both girls and boys, I didn't chase after them like most people do. I wasn't boy or girl crazy. People generally liked me, although they didn't believe in what i believed in.
You could say that converting to satanism is the best decision that I've ever made. I'm so much happier now. It's a lot easier to be happy and let other people have their beliefs and be happy when you've got something of your own that you truly believe in.
I think, when i turn eighteen, I'm going to get a tattoo of the inverted cross on my shoulder. Just a small one, on my shoulderblade, so it'll be easier to cover up and hide. It'll just be a little reminder, my safety blanket, something I can look at when i'm feeling nervous or sad. It'll be something to comfort me, make me happy. I want to be a phsychiatrist, so it'll have to be something I can hide under work clothes. I'm not ashamed of my religion, but I don't think it'd go over too well with clients.
I'm not trying to convert anybody. I'm just tired of the bad reputation satanism's getting. It's mostly a lot of 'goth' kids wanting to shock, painting inverted crosses on their foreheads and wearing pentagrams, being general assholes. Not all of them are, but a great deal of them are rude and ignorant, spewing expected comments about drinking bats blood and killing sheep and murdering their parents. It's people like that that make everyone think satanists are horrible, and evil.
I'm not like that though. And I don't know any real satanists that are. Most of us are intelligent people who dress just like normal and pretty much are normal.
As I said before, I'm not trying to convert anybody. Some people aren't interested in religion.
But if you are.....
http://www.churchofsatan.com/
Here you go. :)
Throughout my life, I've struggled with religion. When I was a kid, my parents dragged me into Christianity. They forced me into dresses and shoes that were too small for my feet. They made me grow my hair out long, because that was feminine, and then they would fix it every sunday, so I would look good and presentable for the masses. They made me pray before meals, before bedtime, which I thought, even then, was kind of silly. They told me that a man called jesus was always watching me, and that if I didn't be careful and be good, all the time, then I would go to a place underground and burn and be tortured- forever.
I was told this often. It depressed me, the fact that I was only about seven or eight years old (i can't remember the exact age) and I had already sinned so much, that I could never really redeem myself and be perfect.
When i was nine, I was sent to a vacation bible school. When I went there, I immediately realized that I was different. According to these people, I was a 'heathen' who was nothing in the eyes of the lord. I hadn't been baptized, cleansed of my sins.
People excluded me because of this. None of the other kids would talk to me. It made me feel horrible. So I did what most kids do when they want to be accepted- I conformed. I didn't even realize what I was doing at first. It was during the 'closing prayer' at the end of the service, and the youth pastor said, " Anyone who has not been baptized, saved from their sins, please come forward"
And I came foreward. I didn't really know what was going on. The pastor asked me if I was ready to become well, to accept Jesus into my heart, and I, a nervous little girl, said yes. I didn't even know what it meant. It was in front of all those people...and I liked it, how they cheered when I said yes, how people slapped me on the back, told me how great I was. I liked how people suddenly started talking to me, how kids came knocking at my door, asking me to come play with them.
So I was baptized. It was in the spring. I was nine. I still didn't really understand. My parents spent hours fixing my hair just so I could be dunked underwater in a heavy robe. Afterwards, i changed into a low cut shirt and a leopard print miniskirt. People patted me on the back and praised me.
I didn't understand.
When I was eleven, I started reading the bible. Immediately, I distrusted it. It just didn't make sense to me. It went against all the science I had been taught in school, and all logic that I knew.
but I didn't say anything. It didn't matter anyway. After three years of kids hanging around me just because I was a christian, they started to look closer. They didn't like me anymore. I may have been christian, but they knew I was different.
I converted to athiesm. It caused many fights, with friends and family. I was depressed. I attempted suicide, many times, and failed, all before i turned fifteen.
Atheism, to me, didn't feel right. it felt better than Christianity, but it wasn't me. It wasn't anything really. To me it was like this big arguement, this big fight, going against everything, snarling and snapping at everyone, "No! You're wrong! You're ALL wrong!"
When i was fifteen, a friend of mine was arrested for narcotics possesion. I wasn't surprised. He was big pill popper, and bought heroin, cocaine, and hallucinogens.
His parents threw away all of his possesions, all his books and clothes. He called me, crying, the day after he was arrested, telling me to 'save his books.'
I went by his house and collected an armload of books from the curb. Among them, was the Satanic Bible, written by Anton lavey.
It caught my attention. Out of curiosity, i cracked it open.
My life changed. My personality changed. I became quieter, speaking only when i felt absolutely nessessary. I was polite, focused, and intense. I held respect for those who respected me, and disdain for loud, ignorant people. I stopped paying attention to what other people thought about me, I still indulged in drugs every now and then, yes, but somehow, through doing drugs only when i wanted to, instead of when i needed to, I weaned myself of them completely. My grades got higher. I felt better. I felt accepted.
I became a laveyan satanist.
For a while, people didn't even know. My parents knew, and they still scoffed at me whenever it was mentioned (which wasnt often) but other than that, not many people knew.
But of course, people always find out. Someone noticed my inverted cross necklace, which i wore at all times, usually hidden under my shirt, more for my comfort than anything. And then they started asking. They got curious. Rumors were started.
But the funniest thing was that they weren't true. I was a satanist, but I didn't kill babies. I didn't drink blood. I didn't burn churches or break into homes at night. I didn't deal drugs or corrupt children. I didn't perform 'satanic' rituals or participate in orgies. In fact, I was quite the opposite. I got good grades and read and pretty much kept to myself. I spoke intelligently and painted beautiful pictures that made the art teacher swoon and exclaim over my talent. I wrote morbid short stories, and was referred by several teachers to go to a special school for writers such as myself. I played the violin, rather well, despite the fact that I performed in combat boots, and dark sunglasses. I didn't cake on makeup, or wear clothes that were too revealing. Although I like both girls and boys, I didn't chase after them like most people do. I wasn't boy or girl crazy. People generally liked me, although they didn't believe in what i believed in.
You could say that converting to satanism is the best decision that I've ever made. I'm so much happier now. It's a lot easier to be happy and let other people have their beliefs and be happy when you've got something of your own that you truly believe in.
I think, when i turn eighteen, I'm going to get a tattoo of the inverted cross on my shoulder. Just a small one, on my shoulderblade, so it'll be easier to cover up and hide. It'll just be a little reminder, my safety blanket, something I can look at when i'm feeling nervous or sad. It'll be something to comfort me, make me happy. I want to be a phsychiatrist, so it'll have to be something I can hide under work clothes. I'm not ashamed of my religion, but I don't think it'd go over too well with clients.
I'm not trying to convert anybody. I'm just tired of the bad reputation satanism's getting. It's mostly a lot of 'goth' kids wanting to shock, painting inverted crosses on their foreheads and wearing pentagrams, being general assholes. Not all of them are, but a great deal of them are rude and ignorant, spewing expected comments about drinking bats blood and killing sheep and murdering their parents. It's people like that that make everyone think satanists are horrible, and evil.
I'm not like that though. And I don't know any real satanists that are. Most of us are intelligent people who dress just like normal and pretty much are normal.
As I said before, I'm not trying to convert anybody. Some people aren't interested in religion.
But if you are.....
http://www.churchofsatan.com/
Here you go. :)
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Things I notice
Things my mom says when she's drunk:
"Let me tell you a secret."
Things people automatcally do:
Accredit my bad mood to my period, which is strange because I don't get one.
....Thats all for now. Not much has been going on except for the fact that I got off probation, and have since then been subsisting on poprocks, which has surprisingly gotten me down a size.
Whoo. fun. anorexia.
"Let me tell you a secret."
Things people automatcally do:
Accredit my bad mood to my period, which is strange because I don't get one.
....Thats all for now. Not much has been going on except for the fact that I got off probation, and have since then been subsisting on poprocks, which has surprisingly gotten me down a size.
Whoo. fun. anorexia.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Goal reached.
Goal one was reached. I lost 5 pounds on a three day fast.
I celebrated by eating an apple this morning with my daily coffee, and by accepting a cookie from a skinny pothead friend who's always trying to offer me food.
I ended this celebratory school day by smiling a big, wide smile, at a joke someone had told me, and then preceded to laugh, and grin, until the skin on my cracked, chapped lips tore and bled.
I stumble home in a daze. I eat a strawberry poptart covered in peanut butter, for energy. I wash it down with green tea/koolaid and bring it back up. I weigh myself.
Before the food, I was a much sought after 125 lbs. After, I'm a hideous 128.
Ah well. I suppose we all have our days where we allow ourselves to eat.
...I haven't even started this anorexia thing again (yet) and already people are asking me if I'm ok. They say, "You're really pale" or some shit.
I don't really feel like writing. I don't feel like talking either. But it's funny how just as soon as you feel like shit, EVERYONE suddenly wants to talk to you, text you, and whatnot.
A rather sad example of this is my girlfriend. She wants to hang out with me soon. I feel like shit. I don't want to see her.
This outburst of cynical thoughts has made me question our relationship. I barely know her. She doesn't seem to really have an interest in me.
Cynical me says "BREAK UP"
Nice me says "DON'T YOU'LL HURT HER"
Blah. I have no idea what to do. I'm fucking sick and tired. Of everything. Drugs, anorexia, and bipolar disorder. I'm done. I'm going to go take a bottle of ambien, pass out for a few days...
I celebrated by eating an apple this morning with my daily coffee, and by accepting a cookie from a skinny pothead friend who's always trying to offer me food.
I ended this celebratory school day by smiling a big, wide smile, at a joke someone had told me, and then preceded to laugh, and grin, until the skin on my cracked, chapped lips tore and bled.
I stumble home in a daze. I eat a strawberry poptart covered in peanut butter, for energy. I wash it down with green tea/koolaid and bring it back up. I weigh myself.
Before the food, I was a much sought after 125 lbs. After, I'm a hideous 128.
Ah well. I suppose we all have our days where we allow ourselves to eat.
...I haven't even started this anorexia thing again (yet) and already people are asking me if I'm ok. They say, "You're really pale" or some shit.
I don't really feel like writing. I don't feel like talking either. But it's funny how just as soon as you feel like shit, EVERYONE suddenly wants to talk to you, text you, and whatnot.
A rather sad example of this is my girlfriend. She wants to hang out with me soon. I feel like shit. I don't want to see her.
This outburst of cynical thoughts has made me question our relationship. I barely know her. She doesn't seem to really have an interest in me.
Cynical me says "BREAK UP"
Nice me says "DON'T YOU'LL HURT HER"
Blah. I have no idea what to do. I'm fucking sick and tired. Of everything. Drugs, anorexia, and bipolar disorder. I'm done. I'm going to go take a bottle of ambien, pass out for a few days...
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