Sunday, October 19, 2008

Dooooood. The Academy Is... sounds purrrrrrrrrdyyyyyyyyyyy. ''D Tehe. Sideways smilie face...
Anyway: Yes, Stephy, you got stuff for commenting me 4 times. A candy county, in fact. ^^ Or, at least it would've been a candy county, had my little trolls, er, siblings not found it first. Sooo, here: A me-sized, me-shaped cookie with chocolate filling for commenting me twice. Enjoy. ^^ Oh, and trust me, you're better off knowing how to lie. It means you have a choice on whether or not you want people to know you're every secret.

And, Cassie: Yeah, well, everybody thinks I either cut myself or am bulimic. Or both, so yeah... lol Danny's such a drama queen.

*siffle* Lavi's been missing for 3 whole days.I'm sad. :<
Yeah. Anyway, I'd love to actually post something worth reading, but I've got kiddies to watch. Kiddies who are about to ingest lethal amounts of play-dough. So I gotta go. Bye.
~Love, Belinda (Even though she's too busy watching little kids to say anything interesting.)
ily all
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Friday, October 17, 2008

Replies to comments:

Jenny: Well, it's true: My ex sucks elephant balls. And his dad's balls. And his girlfriend's balls. Little whore. I swear, if he were about 20 years older, he could be the evil twin of Weird Al. He looks exactly like him. XD SRSLY. ily2, bby. Especially because you commented me twice. Good job! You get a cookie.^^

Stephanie: What?! I'm being blocked out by the FCC of the internet?! YOU SEE, STEPHI?!?!?! THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE IS AGAINST ME!!! >0< ... Or, more likely, I have a split personality who takes over while I'm asleep and posts porn on here. Yes, that makes so much more sense. And, yes, yes, come visit me sometime. Lavi too. Hell, bring the whole crew, I'd love to meet everyone on here in person sometime.

Cassie: Yes. You have the perfect attendance award of my comments for the past 3847817407 years. Which is really weird, considering I only met you about a year and a half ago or thereabouts.... But, anyway, congrats.

T-T My throat hurts. I need some tea and throat lozenges or something. Arg. I hate flu season. '-__-
It's been hellaz boring round here all day. Well, except for me just finding out that one of my best friends Sebastian cut himself recently. On purpose. *sigh* I really hope he's not going back down THAT road. He was a cutter in 8th grade, so he has a history with that crap.
But the really sick part is, I'm not so much worried about him as much as I am jealous of him. Jealous of him for being able to lie so convincingly, for being able to smile and laugh like he's okay when he's actually upset enough to mutilate himself, for being able to grit his teeth and bear it without anyone suspecting him of hurting inside. I'm always so obvious when it comes to stuff like that. I can never fake a smile or act like I don't worship the ground my crushes walk. And, I hate it. I can never keep a single secret, no matter how hard I try because I'm the worlds worst liar. The essence of the epitome of obvious.
And that just makes me so damn vulnerable, because for That Guy and every other ass-hole I ever crushed on, it means I'm a total sitting duck. They could shatter me into a trillion pieces with just a flick of their wrists and they know it, because I always end up telling them. *sigh* Some days, I just feel like I'm made of broken glass and baby flesh, because I'm just that transparent and fragile. But anyway...
I guess I'll leave the emo-ness up to the professionals for now. Broken hearts and sob stories are only sexy when the boys with the scene hair and eye-liner work them, I guess.


Why do the concepts of these videos always have to ruin the intimacy of the song for me?
Seriously, I love MayDay Parade, but did they HAVE to make this into a stereotypical, I'M SO SEXY, I GET ALL THE GIRLS, party song? I mean, it just kinda ruins it for me. It's so contrived.
*sigh* I don't know, I'm just kinda sick of the Vegas vibe in these music videos.
anyway...
Ily all.
~Love, Belinda
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Thursday, October 16, 2008

BALOGNE WITH A SIDE OF FLIM-FLAM!
hahahaha.
Myotaku has all but abandoned me now. *sobs* CASSIE IS THE ONLY ONE WHO LOVES ME ANYMORE!!!! ;~:
Damn it. Don't you people know us melo-dramatic bitches need a decent-sized audience in order to function properly? Because we do. Or, at least I do....
READ MY SHIT, DAMMIT!!!!!! ToT

...Sorry.
It's just that, as everybody should know by now, I'm the epitome of an attention whore, and I've had somewhat of a bad day, so I'm not exactly the mayor of Happy Town as it is.
Why, you ask? Dean. Martin. Fucking. Barris.
Nuff said.'-__- Yeah, shit happened today. Stupid, meaningless, trivial shit, but shit nonetheless.
I don't wanna talk about it.
I will, however, post an excerpt of the totally pwn-some, kick-ass speech I had all planned out, but never got a chance to say to Dean, because he sucks elephant balls. (Well, okay, so it's mostly just his DAD'S balls, but whatever.) So, here we go:

"Hey. Remember how, when I sent you that last letter on myspace, you said no apologies would be made? Well, that's not completely true. Because I've got one thing to apologize for: I lied to you. I'm sorry, but honestly, when I said I liked you back, I... didn't really mean it. Not at that point, anyway. I mean, after all, I barely knew you, but anyway... It wasn't you I liked, but the fact that you liked me and the fact that you were willing to admit it. So I rushed into the whole thing just as stupidly and carelessly as you did, if not more so, simply for the reason that I was starving for affection at the time and I didn't really care who it was from. So, in a way, I guess I kinda used you. And then you led me on and dumped me for her. So I guess I got what I deserved. Karma, I guess. Anyway, basically, what I'm trying to say here is: Even if you don't admit it, you made a mistake.And so did I. But I'm not looking to get revenge. There's no point in getting even- we already are."
Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnd, SCENE!!!
Yeah, I know, not my best work and probably not half as acidic as it should be, but it'll do for now. Especially because he'll never get to hear because I don't ever plan on talking to him again.

Oh, and after this week, I'm seriously considering canceling all my weekend plans and becoming a total recluse. I just feel so exhausted all the time for some reason, so I'm really not feeling up to it. Not to mention, the whole weekend routine is getting ungodly monotonous, if you ask me. Honestly, I'm just glad Margret didn't plan to go to the mall this time for once. Only problem is, she wants to go to this youth group thing instead and... I don't know, to me it just sounds like another excuse to scope for (im)possible boyfriends, and I SO don't need that right now. Getting your hopes up over and over again for someone completely out of your league just gets depressing after a while, ya know?
Anyway, sorry for boring Whoever Bothered to Read This to death with all this shizzle. There's really seldom anything to report on around here. lol No wonder everyone except Cassie has stopped reading.
Anyway, bye
Love, Belinda


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Tuesday, October 14, 2008

....
In a word: Fuck.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With a choke in his heart and a glint in his eye, the poet stepped up to the microphone.
He surveyed his audience in the manner a widower might stare at his wife’s murderer right before he vengefully spliced the Hell-spawned little bastard to pieces. Nothing but bitterness and anger in his eyes. But it was not the audience the poet was angry with. No. Rather, it was everybody but the audience, for the members of the small crowd tonight were some of his dearest and oldest friends.
However, his craft demanded conviction of the feelings his words conveyed and, besides, as his gleaming, shamrock-colored gaze swept over the crowd of spectators, it was not the observers he saw before him, but the catalysts. Yes, before his very eyes, the congregation of innocent listeners mutated into the muses of the verse he was about to read. Everybody who had ever lied to him, everybody who had ever led him on, everybody who had ever hurt him… They were all right there, seated and sneering haughtily up at him from their pit. So, once again begging God to allow his copper insides to appear golden, he took a deep, terse, jagged breath and murmured into the microphone: “Oh, darling dear, is the Devil doing cartwheels again?”
In his minds eye, he could see his tormenters’ sneers falter ever-so-slightly at this.
“Because he really didn’t have to go that far to win.”
Gradually, their confident heckling became mere nervous chuckles as it grew more and more evident that their judgment day was growing nearer and nearer by the second.
“God knows with you in my heart and mind, Satin could make my stomach face-plant onto the balance beam with just a flicker of his eyes.”
From the stage, the poet could feel their heartbeats quicken and their spines start to shudder.
“So, lest you let the terror and tyranny of the truth be revealed, bring on the flattery.”
But even as the sweat of his past tormenters started to pour and their eyes began to widen in fear, the poet felt no victory. Half because he knew the tormenters’ current prescience here was just an allusion and half because he didn‘t want revenge. Revenge never solved anything. It just brought more misery.
“Dry these eyes, silence my cries, and lie to me.”
No, what he really wanted was to heal, to forget, to not care.
“Please, please lie to me again.”
What he really wanted was to never have to remember much less write about his wretched ex-loves ever again.
“Yeah, bring on the flattery, bring on the denial, because, baby, with him, I know you’ve been conceiving.”
Not to mention, his audience might’ve never tired of listening to these sordid, forlorn poems of depression and deception, but he sure as hell got tired of writing them.
“Conceiving, in more ways than one.”
Especially since, every day these feelings and reveries ate him alive, yet never had the slightest effect on the perpetrator.
“Because it’s just so obvious that you’re dying to admit that you and me and this…”
But, then again what else was new?
“Oh, this, is not love.”
He was just another kid addicted to the role of the guy who was forever caught between wishing she cared and wishing he didn’t.
“Honey, the fact of the matter is, if not for everything, we’d make the perfect fairy tale ending.”
But on nights like this, when everybody was staring up at him, anticipating and enchanted, willing to believe every single word he said without question, the fact that he was alone in a crowd full of people was honestly just fine with him.
“But you’re dying for closure and I’ll die without continuation.”
Because, despite his desperate, forlorn, love-starved poetry, he could live without romance. What he really couldn’t live without was a captive audience.
“I know all their tricks.”
Besides, if he were to be completely honest with himself, he had never even actually come close to loving his past tormenters in the first place.
“And if ever ignorance proved to be bliss, it was when I discovered it’s not worth it.”
But that never stopped him from convincing his audience otherwise.
“I could do a million different magic tricks and dye myself a new color every hour all Summer.”
In a way, he was almost addicted to exploiting his misery for the inspiration of his poems.
“It wouldn’t change a single thing: I am who I am.”
Oh, not to say he didn’t know these words didn’t change anything, didn’t fix anything. He knew. But he simply could not stop his pen from bleeding out the words onto the paper.
“So bring on the optimism.”
I guess in a way, his subconscious thought that if he was destined to be the Edger Allen Poe of his generation, he might as well reap the benefits.
“Promise me a million different outcomes and a million different ways this is for the best…”
Sure, he might die lonely and loveless, but at least he wouldn’t die unknown and unsung. Not if he could help it.
“…Then settle for another one of my famous, feigned smiles.”
But, recently, things had started to happen that had him thinking maybe, romantically-speaking, he wasn’t completely doomed after all.
“Because…”
Like, for example, that one set of eyes in the crowd tonight. Every time he looked into those eyes, no matter how hard he tried to cling to that feeling of bitterness, of anger, of injustice that was necessary for his reading to be convincing, he just couldn’t help but forget all his past victimizers, his eternal misery muses and heart-ache.
“Because…”
Getting lost for a second or two in those eyes now, the poets mind banished everybody else in the room to the far recesses of his consciousness, and, apologetically, he concluded to her and her alone:
“Because I couldn’t bring myself to ruin everything with the truth even for you.”
There was a few seconds of silence, as the crowd took it all in, absorbed every word, every feeling, every insinuation, and then: Applause. Not polite, dutiful applause, but real, sincere, authentic, extolling applause that slapped a smile right unto the poets pensive features. “Thank you,” he said to the same mascara-clad eyes, the same feminine face that he had just apologized to.
Fortunately unaware of the special attention the poet was paying her, Emily, the girl, the owner of those eyes and that face, smiled back at him, clapping and cheering with everyone else.
Tonight, as on every other night, every other day, every other moment, Emily looked so beautiful, so pristine, so Heaven-sent, that the poet honestly could’ve broken down in tears that very instant. It literally made his eyes water just to look at her, she was so perfect.
But the fact that her boyfriend, who might as well have been her fiancée they were so close, was sitting right next to her and that she was more likely to be a homicidal transsexual from Transylvania than to give a damn about the poet probably accounted for most of her perfection.
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Monday, October 13, 2008

Replies to comments:

Lavi: No. For me, it is not good to be in love. Because for me, as always, it hurts like hell and it'll only get worse from here because I am the epitome of desperate for him to care but way too pathetic to do anything about it.
And, thanks for saying I'm mature, but at this point I don't really think it matters whether or not I'm a little kid. The point it, he just doesn't like me that way. And, quite frankly, it sucks, but, hey, what else in new, right? This happens every time. Immer wieder.

Jenny: Well... To be honest, I wish I would've gone without a date. It was hella awkward, everybody thought me and Justin were going out.''-__- Dates are so bloody over-rated. lawlz. Octagons.

Cassie: Bby, let's face it: I'm a whore. I end up liking everybody in one way or another, so you'd actually be more correct in saying the entire male population.

*deep breath* Hi, guys. How are you all doing? Wie geht's? Gut/good? Gut/good.
I, on the other hand, am exhausted. Couldn't sleep at all last night. ''-__- Don't know why, I was just so restless.
Oh, and just because God knows I can't go a single day without mentioning him on here at least once, about Candyman: It's hopeless. I give up. I swear, that guy might as well be gay with how unattainable he is. And don't any of you dare try to convince me otherwise, because chances are I'd probably believe you, and a single shred of false hope right now would pretty much be a loaded gun to my head.
But, anyway...
Homecoming was pretty fun.
We laughed and danced and camera-whored the night away. Although I kinda wish I wouldn't have gone with Justin. It was really awkward, because everybody thought we were dating and the entire time, I was like: "No. Oh, hell, hell no." lol Poor Justin! XD
And then, my friend Sebastian started making out with his girlfriend right in front of his ex, who is my bestest friend ever, Margret, and, well, put it this way: HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A WOMAN'S SCORN.
She didn't do anything, but I could tell she was really pissed, which I don't blame her for, because, quite frankly: It is the cruelest, stupidest, most hurtful thing you can do to be all lovey-dovey with your current boyfriend/girlfriend in front of your ex. I've been in that situation before, and it is nothing short of a miracle that I did not break down in tears. Seriously. It hadn't even been 2 weeks since we'd broken up and already He Whose Name I Can No Longer Say Without Vomiting was all over another girl RIGHT. IN. BLOODY. FRONT. OF. ME.
Yeah, not one of my best moments.
But that's a story for another day...
The kids in my English class were turning one of the Berenstine Bear books into porno. Which actually wasn't that hard, because when you really think about it, some of the lines in that book sound kinda dirty. For example: "Mama, mama! I went to town! Inside, outside, upside-down!"
... XD Yeaaaaaaaaaah, ummmm.... lol
Well, anyway, I think I've bored you all long enough, so I'll just post this one last thing and we'll call it a day.

Don't give me that look.
Better yet, don't look at me at all,
I can't bare to be seen when I'm this see-through.
I don't know how God does it: Unconditional love will be the death of me.
And I haven't got a single explanation or excuse this time: I only loved him because he loved me first and not the other way around, for once.
And they say I should probably rip my heart out for all the trouble it's cause me,
But it's not to blame for all my pain:
My eyes are the ones who talked my heart into it.
Well, what can I say?
I'm a story-teller.
I love a good plot set-up, so I set myself up.
He said I was a sadist in bed and masochist at heart.
And I can't help but find it deliciously ironic that all the ones who've claimed to love me the most have never listened to a word I said.
"Well, of course, darling," he said. "After all, eye candy was never meant to be tasted by the ears."

Ily
love,
Belinda
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Saturday, October 11, 2008

Damn it.
This guy... He just keeps getting more and more adorable. I can't stop thinking about him. *sigh* I don't like where this is going. I've been here before and... Shit.
He told me that I'm such a good fried. That I'm so adorable and awesome and he loves me. But... He just thinks of me as a little sister. A little kid.
To him, I'm just some nice, clever little girl he knows, and nothing more. It's so damn patronizing, I can't stand it.
And what's worse, I think I'm getting more and more obvious by the second. He suspects something, I can tell. I think he already knows that I like him, because he keeps giving me these weird, knowing glances. It's creepy, but not as much as it is annoying. It's one of those stupid, patronizing smiles that just seems to gush "awwww, isn't that cute?" like I'm some kind of kindergartner with a crush on her best friends teenage older brother.
*sigh* I feel like such a tool.

Butttttttt, anyway, on a happier note: I'm going to my schools home-coming dance tonight. It should be pretty fun. I'm going with my best friend, Margret, Amanda, this girl from me English class, and Justin, my friend from the bus. He's my date, but it's pretty platonic, so honestly, he might as well be another one of my girl-friends. Besides, he's the perfect gentlemen, so it's not like we're gonna end up drunk and taking noodz of each other. (Yeah, sorry, guys: No porn tonight. lol)
Anyway, I gotta go shower before the dance.
So long and good night. *hugs*
I love you all
~Love, Belinda
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Friday, October 10, 2008

So long and good night
Alright. I got a lesson for you guys today: DON'T EVER, EVER, EVER TRY TO PLAY GOD. Better yet, don't even assume you are capable of playing God. Because you're not. Or, at least, I'm sure as hell not. I can't even begin to make out what the hell He's doing anymore, when it comes to my life. And, you know what? There's really no point in trying to understand or predict the meaning of His actions. In the end, it just makes you all confused and frustrated. Case in point: That Guy.
I honestly haven't the slightest clue what he's doing in my life. There just doesn't seem to be a point to me. I mean, it's the most obvious thing we're not meant for each other, we'll probably never even get close to being friends because I'm more likely to write an entire volume about him to say a single word to him, and I definitely can't compete with him in any way, since he's Mr. Smart, Sexy, And Charismatic and everybody loves him, meaning there's no chance of a rivalry because it'd be so one-sided... So, I just have to wonder: what the hell is he doing here?
Ya see, I'm one of those people who believes everything happens for a reason, but when it comes to That Guy... I honestly have no clue.
Oh, and about Candy Man?
I did it. I discovered his one, lethal flaw. (And, no, Megan, it's not that he has a microscopic penis.) Well, technically it's not a flaw, it's just the reason why me and him would never work out. Ya see, people, I, quite simply, am a coach potato stereo-type. I do not go out. sat at my computer all day and type up depressing, poetic rants about love and life and loss. Whereas, Candyman is the polar opposite. He does EVERYTHING. He swims, he hikes, he runs, he skates, he rock-climbs... Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if he jumped out of a plane on a daily basis! The point is, he does stuff. I don't. Meaning, either he would be driven out of his mind with boredom while dating someone like me, or I would be driven out of my mind with... Well, basically, I would die of adventure over-dose.
And so another romance but not really romance is concluded.
And this time, Thank God, it concluded before it even had a chance to start. *sigh of relief* And I am so glad because if me and Candyman ever did hook up, I honestly would not to be able to endure losing him. He's just the sweetest guy in the world and I'd rather get raped to death by my hell-spawned neighbor Jordan than hurt him.
Anyway, thank all you guys SO much for being to patient with me and all my teenage drama bull. I really appreciate.*hugs you all*
I love you guys!
~Love, Belinda
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Thursday, October 9, 2008

Hey. I'm off school today because of Yom Kippur(sp), which is the Jewish day of atonement. Kind of the like the original Good Friday, I guess.
But, anyway...

YOU GUYS WON'T BLOODY BELIEVE THIS!!!!
It's the Candyman... He's rich! Not only is he smart and polite and talented and impossibly adorable, BUT HE'S F--ING RICH!!!! I mean, come on: As if he wasn't ungodly perfect enough already!
Like, for serious. You guys gotta admit: it's awfully suspicious for someone that great to be single. I just can't help thinking that something's definitely gotta be up. Hmmm...
I KNOW! Maybe he has HIV! OF COURSE! That compensates for ALL his impossible perfection! Not to mention, he's awesome, so there's no way I'm the only girl who's ever liked him. He's probably had a hundrend or so girlfriends in the past. And he's college-age, so I wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't a virgin.
But, you know what? I don't want to be ranting about him on here all day, so how about I just reply to your guys' comments, post a video, and we'll call it a day?

REPLIES TO COMMENTS:

Cassie: lol Lavi? Yeah, right. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love that kid to death and everything, but I am SO over long-distance relationships. And, nuh-uhhhhh. I luffles teh Shaanty. <3333333333 (ily 2, dear.)

Megan: Yeah, that's what I think too. I mean, let's face it, at this point, there's just no way Candyman can be for real. lol MY FELLOW CYNIC! *high-fives you*

Lavi: Err, well, no, I don't believe all Hell breaking lose is SUPPOSED to sound like it'd be good. Hence the point of the "Hell" part. And as for people hating me, well, you'd be surprised. Over the past year and a quarter I've gained a reputation of being a complete basket-case. Hell, I'm almost infamous at this point. HATERS MAKE ME FAMOUS. lol So true, so true. And, yeah, that's right, don't you dare worry about what people think. I like the way you are too. And I'm not saying this guy is perfect, I'm just saying he's simply TOO perfect for me. Basically, I'm a cynic. I fall for people way too easily and I've been around long enough to know it's not a good thing. Especially because I'm usually completely shallow when it comes to my taste in guys.

Stehpy: Yeah, there's also another version of the Bloody Mary story. Something about a girl in coma getting accidentally buried alive. I think it took place in the 18th or 19th century, I'm not sure. And considering how awesome this guy is turning out to be, I think his "secret flaw" is actually going to turn out to be pretty big and problematic. Might just be my paranoia talking though.

My myspace emo Eskimo (A.K.A. Jenny): X3 HE'S A SWEET-TALKIN', SUGER-COATED CAN-DY-MAHN! lol


"It's not making a video. It's making love to the camera."-Jeff
"MY HAIR WAS SHITTY?! YOU GUYS DIDN'T TELL ME MY HAIR WAS SHITTY"-Shaant
lol
Love, Belinda


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Wednesday, October 8, 2008

Damn yoooooou, Satin!
Lavi: Yeah, welllll... It doesn't FEEL cute. '-__-
And, no offense, but I doubt even my awesometastical poetry skills will be worth it when all hell breaks lose and I make him hate me and I am once again left to writhe in dejected, forsaken agony.

The love of my life (A.K.A. MEGAN): Yeah, but I could honestly win an olympic gold metal for fucking shit up. And I always make the same mistakes over and over again. I never learn.

Alright. I have come up with a code-name for my latest victim, er, obsession, er crush. He shall be referred to as Candy Man. Because he's sweet on the outside and, knowing my luck, probably full of shit on the inside. Like a very well-decorated port-a-potty.
Yeah, I know that sounds hash, but come on, this guy is EXACTLY like all the other guys I've liked before: talented, musical, smart, charismatic, cute as God knows what... Too good to be true, basically.
Hell, he's even more too good to be true than all my previous crushes combined: HE actually LIKES me! (As a friend, of course.'''-__-)
But, yeah, so far, he just seems to be... perfect. So much so that I honestly cannot believe for a second that he's sincere. There's just no way. Not a chance.
Oh, and speaking of No Way's, That Guy was sizing me up at the bus-stop this morning. Yeah, it figures: Now that I'm over him, he FINALLY decides to show some interest. I swear, if he ends up all starry-eyed and infatuated over me like I was over him last year, I am going to laugh SO hard I think I might just end up in the emergency room. And, if I don't survive, the opening statement on my will shall read: "See, people? There is justice in this world after all." (The justice being Danny falling for me, not me dying, obviously.)
Yeaaaaaaaah, that would just make my year. *sigh* If only, if only.
But, anyway, enough stressing. Bring on the mind-numbing music:

NOOOOOOOO!! Shaanty cut his hairrrrrrrrrrr!!!
*sniffles* I'm sad.
I love you all
Love,
Belinda
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Monday, October 6, 2008

Okay. I'm just gonna ramble for a little bit, alright? Alright.

It's not fair. He is so bloody beautiful and kind and earnest and perfect, I could cry. And, I know, I know, I shouldn't even start. I shouldn't even say it, I shouldn't even think it, because the whole damn thing is doomed. Doomed before it'll even have a chance to start. There's no point, really, I'm just setting myself up. This is just the inner me, the little self-destructive child who simply cannot bring herself to stop ruining everything. I know. This is just the masochist that I am.
But I want to say it.
I really, really want to tell him, but I can't, because it'll ruin everything. Besides, I always end up hating the guys I like, and he for one does not deserve that. Hell, he might be the only one so far who doesn't deserve that.
*sigh* But, damn it, I don't even know him.... Oy.'-__- I hate this.

Okay. Ranting is over. Responses to comments now.

Cassie: Is it really? I honestly think it depends on the inspiration. By the way, That Guy is now attempting to be poet. He's starting to write Haiku's, for God's sake! '-__- I'M SUPPOSED TO BE THE EMO POET IN THIS NONEXISTENT RELATIONSHIP, DAMMIT!!!!! lol Ryro...? Naw. I love Ryro too much to write spiteful poetry about him.

Stephie:Really? That's my opinion too. lol (j/k,j/k) Well, school actually wasn't all that bad today, so shmeh... *shrugs*

Meganman: Yes. You're a man now. Or, at least, that's what the voices in my head tell me.0_o Anyway... AWWWWWWWWw! I LOVE your words! They're ridiculously ridiculous, with a capital DIC! For serial, they're what got me through middle school.

Lavi: EW! Bland clothing, I hate that! But sadly, everything in my wardrobe is rather bland, because I'm a cheapskate.'-__- And, welllllllll, as you can tell by the aforetyped rant... No, sadly, I am not without a crush at the moment. But, hey, more inspiration for more depressing poetry, right?

ily
~Love, Belinda


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