Ooh! Get me away from here I'm dying
Play me a song to set me free
Nobody writes them like they used to
So it may as well be me
Here on my own now after hours
Here on my own now on a bus
Think of it this way
You could either be successful or be us
With our winning smiles, and us
With our catchy tunes, and us
Now we're photogenic
You know, we don't stand a chance

Oh, I'll settle down with some old story
About a boy who's just like me
Thought there was love in everything and everyone
You're so naive!
After a while they always get it
They always reach a sorry end
Still it was worth it as I turned the pages solemnly, and then
With a winning smile, the boy
With naivety succeeds
At the final moment, I cried
I always cry at endings

Oh, that wasn't what I meant to say at all
From where I'm sitting, rain
Washing against the lonely tenement
Has set my mind to wander
Into the windows of my lovers
They never know unless I write
"This is no declaration, I just thought I'd let you know goodbye"
Said the hero in the story
"It is mightier than swords
I could kill you sure
But I could only make you cry with these words"

blick.

thank you patrick. thank you so much.

Be prepared to laugh out loud!
>
><< Analogies and Metaphors Found in High School Essays
> >
> >Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two other sides
>gently compressed by a Thigh Master.
> >
> > His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like
>underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.
> >
> > He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy
>who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those
>boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high
>schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of
>those
>boxes with a pinhole in it.
> >
> > She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was
>room-temperature Canadian beef.
> >
> > She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes
>just
>before it throws up.
> >
> > Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.
> >
> > He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.
> >
> > The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because
>of
>his wife's infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly
>surcharge-free ATM.
> >
> > The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a
>bowling
>ball wouldn't.
> >
> > McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled
>with
>vegetable soup.
> >
> > From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie,
>surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and Jeopardy
>comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.
> >
> > Her hair glistened in the rain like nose hair after a sneeze.
> >
> > The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry
>them in hot grease.
> >
> > Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the
>grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left
>Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19
>p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.
> >
> > They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that
>resembled Nancy Kerrigan's teeth.
> >
> > John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had
>also
>never met.
> >
> > He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East
>River.
> >
> > Even in his last years, Grandpappy had a mind like a steel trap, only
>one
>that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.
> >
> > Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.
> >
> > The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this
>plan just might work.
> >
> > The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating
>for
>a while.
> >
> > "Oh, Jason, take me!"; she panted, her breasts heaving like a college
>freshman on $1-a-beer night.
> >
> > He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a
>real duck that was actually lame. Maybe from stepping on a land mine or
>something.
> >
> > The knife was as sharp as the tone used by Rep. Sheila Jackson Lee
>(D-Tex.) in her first several points of parliamentary procedure made to
>Rep.
>Henry Hyde (R-Ill. ) in the House Judiciary Committee hearings on the
>impeachment of President William Jefferson Clinton.
> >
> > The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg
>behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.
> >
> > It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with
>power
>tools.
> >
> > He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if
>she were a garbage truck backing up.
> >
> > She was as easy as the TV Guide crossword.
> >
> > Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any
>pH
>cleanser.
> >
> > She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs.
> >
> > Her voice had that tense, grating quality, like a generation thermal
>paper
>fax machine that needed a band tightened.
> >
> > It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to
>the
>wall
> > >>

i dyed sophie's hair. it's pretty. bloop.

What Teen TV Stereotype Are You?
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tee hee! that's funny, i'm not that bad. maybe a teeny but, but on the whole i'm, uh, okayish i guess.

ho, ho! this is hilarious! i got it from char's blog. she said something about being happy because home grown isn't coming and good charlotte is. this kid totally ripped on her and then sort of apologized in a quote that will follow (eventually). it's funny because the other day i was like, "good charotte sounds like shit. they're like hip hop, emo, punk, and death metal all mushed together." ha! i'm not alone!!!!!! here's the proof:

"I ATTACK NO ONE...but dont bag on Home Grown and praise good charlotte (does benji wear more make up everyday or what) im really not a person to bag on people but come on...good charlotte blows... i mean...have you actually heard them play? The only thing more complexing then watching those idiots on stage is trying to figure out what kind of music they are playing... is it punk?...is it rap?...is it pop?...is it shit?...i think so! Love to all once again. Even Char though I disrespected her before...I am sorry...I just have a strong opinion about crappy ass bands like good charlotte...if you like em fine...but Home Grown has actually worked to the point that they are at...and they are also a hundred times the band that GC is...so i will say no more!"

forgive me, they relieve stress


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Personality?

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Your Secret Fetish Is Piercings!

Not only is the pain a big rush, as you know, piercings are a great sexual enhancer.


Sure, you may not be able to get a job with your punctured face,


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Kiss and suck away, but don't get your piercings locked with your lover's.



What's *Your* Secret Fetish? Click Here to Find Out!

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You are definitely a sexual glutton, taking as much as you can ;)



Are *You* Bisexual? Click Here to Find Out!

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well, duh

You Are a Wild Woman!

Put down the whip and unlace those come-fuck-me boots!


You definitely qualify as kinky - and not just occasionally.


You've exhausted every fantasy, but you're always open to new ones.


Your sexual encounters are usually spiced with role-play, bondage, new positions,
props, and fun fetishes.



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hey, whadya know, i am a cancer


Find out which But I'm A Cheerleader girl you are.


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You Have a Submissive Ass!

Bend over, because I'm your master.

I'm going to spank you harder and faster.

Beat your ass good until it burns.

Then let my friends take their turns.



What Ass Do *You* Have??

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Although you look like a cartoon character, you lead a soap opera life.


Stop picking the wrong guys, and your glamourous life won't have a Marylin Monroe
ending.



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You Are An Intense Kisser!

Deep tounging, nibbling, and locking lips for hours are on your agenda.

You've been known to wear lovers out with your kiss,

before getting to anything else on the menu.

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Take the What
animal best portrays your sexual appetite?? Quiz

i wrote a harmony for "my dreams escaped" yesterday. my sister helped a tiny on the bridge. (sort of.) fun, fun.
_
i saw joshua bell in concert last night. he is so incredible. when he plays, even if i've heard the piece a thousand times, it's as though it is an entirely new piece. he's so beautiful. i got his autograph and (this will sound pathetic) his bow hair. i had so many things i wanted to tell him and so many questions i wanted to ask, but when i got to him i couldn't say anything. it was amazing. poeme (pretend you see an accent over the e) was so sensual and full of emotion. i fell in love with it. i want to see him again. oh, it was amazing. and he shook my hand! mine! my ordinary, little hand, and he smiled. i know that's not incredibly significant, but i'm going to pretend it is. and he smiled at me as i was leaving. oh i was so happy. he is a god. i've never seen anyone or heard anything as beautiful and magnificent as he. oh, it was heaven.

i wrote a song. it's called "my dreams escaped". here are the lyrics:

i’ve been around so long
i can’t take this anymore
i’ve hit the ground so hard
and i’ve crashed against the shore

my hopes have shattered
my dreams escaped
they leave me here with only pain
my tears have splattered
upon the bed
i wanna fall asleep in your arms again

i’ve given you love and been wronged
you stripped my heart down to its core
i was lifted up, but then scarred
when you cast me to the floor

my hopes have shattered
my dreams escaped
they leave me here with only pain
my tears have splattered
upon the bed
i wanna fall asleep in your arms again

and here i stand
waiting to hold you
longing for your lips to touch my face
please hold my hand
take me away from here
somewhere where your arms will keep me safe

‘cause i’ve been around so long
i can’t take this anymore
i’ve hit the ground so hard
and i’ve crashed against the shore

my hopes have shattered
my dreams escaped
they leave me here with only pain
my tears have splattered
upon the bed
i wanna fall asleep in your arms again

i wanna fall asleep in your arms again

i just had a complete emotional break down. want to know what spurred it? a mouse. actually, two mice, but that’s still pathetic. of course it wasn’t only because of them. it was everything accumulated to this massive amount of stress, and then the mice just pushed me over the edge. they got out of their cage. now two of my snakes are hungry and the mice are chewing up my clothes. i was fine at first, then i was throwing things everywhere and yelling at my sister, and then i felt so horrible for yelling at her because i lover her so much and she was only trying to help me. so i started sobbing and collapsed amidst the chaos of my room, longing for the eradication of the chaos in my life.
_
my life is a mess. not quite as messy as it has been, but so difficult and painful. i have reduced my number of lovers to two. i didn’t shed the others on my own, as the quotes from the previous entry tell. and i’m down to my two favorites, so it should be all shiny and happy for me. but it’s not. i have to leave both of them or stay with both of them. i can’t only leave one. they mean so much. together they would be the absolute perfect guy. no, they would be more than perfect. i need both of them to keep me sane, or i can’t have either. and i don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. it’s a lot more complicated than it seems on the surface, but it is impossible to explain months of love and lust and passion and jealousy in any way that would even begin to make sense. but that’s the beauty (and the misery). it’s nonsensical.
_
also to do with my lovely guys, one has one-and-a-quarter other girls with whom he fools around occasionally. the quarter is because one he isn’t sure of and doesn’t mean much yet. unfortunately, this quarter is my friend. i love her. i am beginning to fall in love with him. which is another reason i can’t decide what to do about him/them/her/it/whatever.
_
another element to my despair is that i am suffocating in my current group of friends. i like them all well enough, and most of them are incredible people ...as individuals. as a group i cannot take them much longer. not all of them of course. there are five girls and two guys whose company i’m sure i will [almost] never tire of. you know who you are, and i apologize because i feel as though i’ve been neglecting you with the new “group” i seem to have acquired. i will try to spend more time with you because i miss you and love you. this being specifically directed towards the laurakimiali part of my life.
_
as well as spending more time with them, i want to expand my social group. a few feeble attempts have so far resulted in nothing more than an occasional nods of acknowledgement in passing. i think the problem may be that i have already been stereotyped by several people and they or their friends are ignorant causing difficulties surrounding the sparking of new friendships.
_
i am also terrified of getting older. i will not drive because it is a sign of losing childhood innocence (sort of). it means responsibility and growing up, and that frightens me to the point of tears. don’t get me wrong, i’m looking forward to being an adult, i just don’t want it yet. i’m not ready. and i’m graduating at the end of next school year! ahhh! that means college, moving out, getting my own place, a job ...eventually marriage, kids, and getting fat. and i don’t know what i want to do yet, which adds yet another horror. i don’t have a whole lot of time left to figure it out. but how am i supposed to? i’m just a kid. a lost kid.

fuck. kill me now please. kill me or save me. get me out of this hell. i can't take it. i can't, i can't. i'm dying here.

"i love you claire ...i just never thought i'd fall in love with someone so emotionally fucked up."
~cody
_
"ahh, she's not really my type anymore. she has to many guys. she's such a slut."
~mike