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The first thing that leapt to mind was something I would rather forget. My ex boyfriend. I have no idea why I picked him, but it was mainly because of the chemistry I thought we had. I changed too much of myself to fit him, and I am still disgusted about that even though that whole affair was more than four years ago. He had nothing at all in common with me, except that we were both from New York, and we both were weirdos. I guess he liked me because I was lonely, and for the fake chemistry.
I cherish my life. A few years ago, I would not have wanted my life, but now I realize how lucky I am to have it as good as I do. To quote the Korn song I “got the life”. I used to be so confused in what I wanted out of life and how to get there, but now I have somewhat of a game plan. It’s not perfected yet, but I will continue to work on it as I grow older and gain more “life experience points”. I look forward to and cherish my future right now.
Unbelievably, I have not had the chicken pox yet. I suppose that could be a bad thing, but I am knocking on wood right now. It would be great if I could get through my entire life without having the chicken pox. I want to be one of the few who manages to skip that obstacle. I read in a magazine that some mothers expose their babies to chicken pox on purpose, so they get it earlier in life, so it will not kill them later. Smart idea, or just weird? Who would want to expose their babies?
I turned twenty years old yesterday. It’s hard to believe that just ten years ago I was a child, and ten years from now I will be a real adult. I hope I am competent. Right now I feel like a teenager in so many ways, and I feel like a child in more ways. I don’t feel like an adult yet. When I turned eighteen, I did not “feel eighteen” either. I still felt like a kid. I know I have changed, but I don’t know when I’ll actually see these changes, or when others will see them.
Are they roses that grow in China? Or roses painted on china plates? I guess if they grew in China, they would be Chinese roses. A china rose may even be an actual flower made out of china. It’s one of those stupid things that you have to hide away in a glass case to prevent anyone (especially pets, small children, or the elderly) from breaking it. That’s the one fear I had when I walked into antique stores with my mom when I was little; that I would break some precious “antique” artifact that supposedly had value.
There’s so much to say about chocolate! Why does almost every woman love chocolate? Surprisingly, most of the guys I know don’t really care much for it, but all the women and girls I know love it to death. Maybe there’s a difference in taste buds with the two genders. I don’t even want to fathom the mystery because it just won’t be any fun. The only kind of chocolate I don’t like is the dark kind. It’s not sweet enough, and the white chocolate is just a little too sweet for my taste. Hershey’s is my favorite kind.
I went to one of those new radical Christian churches recently. This place was enormous. It looked more like mall than a church, and it was complete with coffee shop and bookstore. Isn’t there a verse in the Bible that says you should not turn God’s house into a marketplace? I walked in, and it was so loud. They had disco lights, and huge screens that projected the pastor’s image to every member of the congregation. The band was as loud as most rock concerts, and everyone got up and sung. That’s not my idea of a real church.
I have a very annoying character called Natasha in one of my stories. She’s supposed to be Russian (my boyfriend actually created this character) and she is a maid. She is in love with a man she can never have and it’s literally tearing her up. Not only does she have to clean his house day in and day out, she has to clean up her heart. The character is scheduled to die a most gruesome death quite soon, so perhaps she will be put out of her misery. I really hate her. So romantic, yet so pathetic.
It is so difficult to keep a clear head when you are angry or jealous. When I get jealous, I literally feel like my whole head is on fire and all these pissed off words just keep tumbling out of my mouth. I know that the feeling will typically not last long (at the longest – three days), but I still get this overwhelming urge to yell and scream like a child having a temper tantrum. Sometimes I can suppress that urge, and I would like to think I am getting better at learning to control my jealous outbursts.
Cliché Romantic Date
That’s what this one guy wants to take me on. He knows full well I have a boyfriend, yet he is dead set on asking me out and continually pressuring me to date him. I have been as firm as possible with him, and I am not relenting at all. I do not like him one bit. He said he would like to take me out to dinner and a movie, and then a long walk on the beach. No lie. I don’t like the beach that much. I’d rather go for a walk in the forest.
Clock Without Any Hands
I think I actually saw one of those once. But aside from my personal observances; it sounds like something one of my characters would wear. Damien Mortifer wouldn’t even really need a clock… he’d always know what time it was anywhere in the world. Being older than anything in the universe except the goddesses, he would be connected to time in all its many confusing forms. Time zones confuse me. I do not understand why we have them. I used to think that was how Santa Claus got to everyone’s house in one night; time zones.
Close to Heaven
My story is in my head, and I’m going to talk about another character, Anastasia. Right now, she’s as far from heaven as she can be; she’s trapped in Damien’s lair. I have a pretty unique idea for the story, but I don’t know how my boyfriend (the creator) will like it. I was going to have some people come down to rescue Ana from Damien, but they will be captured by his demons, or Amelia. Then once they are captured, my evil character Cleopatra will have room to grow on earth. She is Damien’s kind-of daughter.
I saw the class of 2008 graduate from high school. Right now, the doors are not closed anymore. They are wide open, and the new alumni can go wherever they please and do whatever they wish. The world is theirs to take on, and they are strong. I dedicate this entry to them, to my friends who have finally gotten out. I love you and I care for you, even if I do not show it at times. The Holy Spirit will be guiding you in whatever you choose to do with your life. It will be blessed.
I used to be on cloud nine
Your motives were not righteous
So I rose
To another cloud
Where you could never find me
I hid myself
Inside the white
Wishing you could be there
You are dark
Dirty, full of pain
For your safety,
Your return to grace
The strength to defeat
I still love you
I wish I could have you
My white cloud calls
There is nothing
For me in you
For you in me
I have lost appeal
I gained what you lack
Kennedy and I are working on a poem together and it has to do with clouds. It’s motivational and inspirational. I always want to write more religious poems and stories and things, because the story I am working on right now (XIII) is absolutely anti-God. I made the story take on a Nietzschean point of view, because God did turn out to be dead. As a matter of face, he never existed in the story, so that doesn’t fit in exactly with Nietzsche’s perspective. The gods in the story are the Greek gods and goddesses, and Jesus didn’t exist.
I think the horror movie industry has demonized the cute, funny clown. That Pennywise clown from
scared the shit out of me. So did that Jigsaw thing from
. I wasn’t really sure what that was, but it looked kind of like a clown. Speaking of the
movies, the only one I saw was
, and that had some bloody, gruesome, disgusting moments. I would rather have read a book with that plotline than watched a movie. It was too much blood; it didn’t make me physically sick or anything, just disgusted at the movie industry.
My code name is something my friend Adam made up. You take the first three letters of your last name, and then the first two letters of your first name. Jam them together and you get something that sounds like a Jedi name. If your name is John Smith, your code name would be Smijo. It is kind of elementary school-like, but that method can come up with some interesting character names. My username for this website is also a sort of code name. dr1nk1ngm3rcury comes from a Smashing Pumpkins song, the name of which is “Ava Adore”.
I am currently in love with coffee. It’s like a special treat for me, because I only have it on certain mornings, and it calms me down. It puts me in a writing mood, or a reading mood. That may just be the common stereotype that writers sit in coffee shops with their laptops and write like that, but I really believe that coffee fires my creativity. Or it could be the early morning that does it; I like feeling that I have a whole day ahead of me to work on my creative endeavors. Coffee is the morning.
For the duration of our vacation to California, my grandma was complaining about being cold. She is 83 years old and weighs about 96 pounds. Her skin is like tissue paper and she hardly eats. Her stomach is the size of a watermelon seed. No wonder she’s always cold! We had to sleep in the same bed during the trip, and she curled up into a ball, and stole all the covers from me, which is no hardship because it was literally around 80 degrees in the house, and she was still cold after that. I don’t understand her.
I’m going to make a hideous entry about my boyfriend. We’ve been dating almost four years. He wants to marry me, and I’m getting cold feet about it. He has not officially proposed or anything, but I am getting less and less sure. If this was the beginning of our relationship, I would have been gung ho for marriage, but now I’m like… let me finish college first, please? And by finishing college, I mean finishing grad school too. I want to delay marriage for as long as it takes me to become mature enough to love someone.
I like the word. Howie Day wrote a song called “Collide” that is on one of the Now CDs. I stopped collecting them after volume 20, when I stopped listening to mainstream music on the radio. I have Now volumes 14-20 and I plan to have no more. I barely collect CDs anymore either. I go to the discount store and get CDs from obscure bands for less than eight dollars. I download everything else, or individual songs when I don’t like the artist or the CD in general. When free downloading becomes illegal, I swear I will cry.
Come With Me
I have a rant to make about a particular song. It’s called “Come Here Boy” by Imogen Heap. I don’t care too much for the artist; I like one song she wrote and that’s it. I heard “Come Here Boy” and was slightly disgusted. It’s so slow; when I hear a seductive song, I want it to be fast with either a dance or a rock feel to it. Slow love songs get on my nerves. I can’t stand “From this Moment On” by Shania Twain, or any of Bryan Adams’s love songs. They make me sick.
When I went to California, we went into the “gay district” of San Francisco. The rainbow flag was up everywhere, and there was an HIV clinic right in the middle of the district. My thirteen year old cousin found that funny as hell. I think we should all have freedom of sexuality, and my religion states that it is all right to be gay or lesbian, just as long as you do not act on those behaviors. It is not a sin to be gay because God made you that way, but marriage is prohibited in my religion.
Damien Mortifer made a concoction that is a powerful aphrodisiac. His evil “daughter” Cleopatra figured out how to make it, and so she will use it for more evil deeds, such as seducing the living crap out of Tsunami. That is going to go so wrong in the story, and I cannot wait to write the scene… that’s going to be so much fun. I love writing these seductive scenes. I hate the character of Cleopatra/Natasha. She is going to get her just desserts… just wait and see… The story is “published” on my FictionPress for anyone who cares.
I keep having these pitiful romantic/pathetic dreams about making a confession. The subject of my dreams always gives me something to ponder and laugh about somewhat, but it is annoying to continually be dreaming about it because it is something I will probably never have, and will never see again. I do have a funny suspicion that someday we will end up together again, maybe in 2016 or what have you, but I’m not even sure I want to meet the subject of my dreams. He only makes me happy in the dreams, and he never could in reality.
In July of 2003, I believed I was being controlled. Unfortunately for me, I did not know what control really was until around July of 2007 and on. Then I basically learned the hard way. It sucked major ass, and then I figured out a way to deal with it. I’m still trying to get my life straightened out. On the surface, it’s not that hard, but I still think it is… just a little. I guess it’s because I appear to lack control in what I do. I try to hide most of my motivations so nobody knows.
There was a sign in the lounge at my community college. This is exactly what it said, word for word: “Please put chairs and tables back where they belong. Thank you for you’re corporation in this matter.” This is supposed to be a college, I thought to myself. A place for higher learning, and yet they still have grammar mistakes in a sign! I guess they need a copy-editor for everything they put out. That gets on my nerves; when people are so careless. A few days later, I returned to the lounge and “corporation” was replaced with “cooperation”.
Count the Stars
I remember a long time ago… it was April 12. I constantly mention this date and have referred back to it countless times in conversation with people who have no idea what the hell I am talking about, but I don’t care. It means something to me. April 12 is the day I counted the stars. I lay on my back, on the grass, alongside the best guy friend I had never really bothered to know better. He would have been the best boyfriend I ever could have had, but I was too stupid and hopelessly romantic.
I lack courage to do most of what I want in life. I have to really rally myself up and think positively to get over my fears. It requires a lot of motivation on my own part, and it is exhausting. Then I do what I wanted to do and find out “that wasn’t so difficult, was it?” I love that sensation of relief. Each time I try, it makes me just that much stronger, so I can be more courageous and more of a go-getter in this life. I will liberate myself from all of my assorted fears.
I have often been called a coward. People have told me that I “need to grow a backbone” and that I need to be more “assertive”. It is the hardest uphill battle I have ever known, and I am going to be brave by the end of my life. I know I will, but I know it will take a major amount of work and prayer and faith on my part. Bravery does not come naturally to me. I felt like I had to fight tooth and nail to get everywhere I am right now, and to be happy.
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