myOtaku.com: Bloody Beauty

myO Still <3's You

Vitals

Birthday
• 1991-03-18
Gender
• Female
Location
• Ha-Ha -you wish
Member Since
• 2005-12-21
Occupation
• I like to think I am a writer.
Real Name
• You may only call me Bloody.

Personal

Achievements
• My achievements include scaring the snot out of goodie-goodie cheerleaders on a daily bases, becomeing trailor trash(behind a bar is my humble abode), and being mostly mysterious to everyone I come in contact with.
Anime Fan Since
• About......1st grade.
Favorite Anime
• Full Metal Alchemist, Eerie Queerie, Inuyasha, Ranma 1/2, Maison Ikkoku, Read or Die( Goals
• To live through my childhood, and not become a mom. (get that special person to start likeing me-Not that I obses over a guy, it's a girl!)
Hobbies
• Writing Reading, plotting the end of the world with contacts all over the world.
Talents
• Good with guns, and explosives.

myOtaku.com: Bloody Beauty

Saturday, October 7, 2006

Don't read this. Pent up depression.
So here I am again. Typing into the tiny screen. Its pixels iluminating my face. The sun has set. System of a Down is blasting into my headphones. My trans-am t shirt is soft, and my cammo pants baggy. I went to Dylans today. It was pretty fun. It was okay.
I kept feeling really depressed...distant...then I would snap back to reality, and Dylan wouldn't notice. So I go on and playfully touch his leg.
I told him I updated, but I don't want him reading that last post. It's sad. I am sad. I think I will go do something to bring myself ack to life. Swim maybe. Its 65 degrees outside, and I thik a nice chilly swim is just what I need.
Or maybe I'll find a new place to scratch on. My hand is too noticeable. Dylan said nothing about it today, and I really kind of wish he would have. But I know I would have just said Nothing again. Whats wrong with me? I need help. I need...food actually. Food is a nice tool. So is sex. But...I always feel horible afterwards. Like I am being used. I have been. I shouldn't put this in here, but no one reads this, and the occasianal person won't care. When I was a little kid...Something happened. I shouldn't tell, I know how bad it would seem. I don't think I should. But It kills me.
And Dylan shouldn't know either.
When I was about nine...For about five minutes there my hands wouldn't move. It's not as bad as it...I haven't lied to Dylan, I just left out things I had done. Things some one did. I shouldn't put this. I am going for a walk. No. I am calling Dylan. Dylan, if you read this, know I won't recall what you are talking about, or I will say nothing again. You don't need this crap.
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