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Sunday, October 5, 2008


Dood.
My computer speakers are picking up radio signals.
Tehe.
I am sooooooooooooo bloody hyper right now. AND I had sparkly blue eye-liner on yesterday! But it was only a free sample. And I was broke. So I couldn't buy it. T_T *pout, pout*
Er, yeah...
In case you can't tell, I forget to take my A.D.H.D. (which is like A.D.D. only worse) medication today.=( CAN'T FOCUSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!! >.<

So, anyway... Responses to comments--

Subi Lavi: No, it's actually a crush I had last year. I honestly could care less about him now. His name's Danny. Or Danly, rather, because his middle name is Lee and he goes by Dan. You have a weird fashion sense...? That's great! lol So do I.

Cassie:Man, I don't even have bandshirts. They're all too expensive and I'm too broke. *sigh*

Megan: Okay. I'll bring the duct-tape, you bring the hot sauce.

And, now just because I feel like it: INCOHERENT POETRY!!

It sings: "No, no, just leave me where I lay. Just leave me alone for a second."
No, really, dear, I swear: Those strings need their space and I need my closure.
Because God knows we ain't getting any closer.
And they've all got dollar signs in their eyes,
But all you've got in your wallet and your throat are IOU's.
Well, don't give me that look:
I never said I wanted this to end.
I'll die without the closure,
But I'm dying for continuation.
So play with me and play me another song you've been saving for just such an occasion.
Let me sing along, let me sing along.

And, yeah, I know you can't stand the sad and serious gushing out of these speakers.
But nobody ever said you had to stand.
So have a seat and allow me to interrupt this program to bring you this important message:
DARLING DEAR, YOU OWE ME ONE DRAMATIC DEATH SCENE,
12 SHARDS OF YOUR SOON-TO-BE BROKEN HEART, A LIFETIME OF NOISE TO COVER-UP ALL THE AWKWARD SILENCE, AND A MENTAL BREAK DOWN OR TWO JUST TO SHOW YOU WHAT YOU PUT ME THROUGH.
THANK YOU AND HAVE A NICE DAY.
SINCERELY, ME, KARMA, AND THE MAFIA.
Because, honey, let's face it: if me and the mafia do not kill you, the karma will.

Yeah. I'm not really sure whether that was aimed at Dean or Danny. A little it of both, I guess. Matter of fact, I'm dedicate that to every last guitarist that I ever dated and/or have ever wanted to date. (Except Mike. Really can't say anything bad about him.) And, I'm going to call it "YOU REALLY CAN'T DO ANYTHING WITHOUT THAT GUITAR, CAN YOU?" XD lol It fits so bloody well! I'm probably going to completely regret posting it once I read it though. *sigh* In the words of the great and powerful Ryu: "Everything sounds stupid in retrospect."

Anyway... Yeah, school tomorrow. *sigh* '-__- I DUN WANNA GO, I DUN WANNA GO, I DUN WANNA GO! Oh well. Speaking of which, I guess I better go do the homework. Oy...
ily. Ich liebe sie.
Love, Belinda

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Friday, October 3, 2008


   lalalalala...
I'm exhausted.
Like, for serious, it's a miracle I can even move.
This is going to sound ridiculous, but I think it's because of That Guy. I don't know why, but every time I look at him, I just get so drained and tired.
Deja vu, I guess. I wasted so much time staring at him last year, I suppose I'm literally sick to death of his face by now.
I guess while we're on the subject, I better catch you guys up on him, since I haven't written about him in so long. Honestly, there's not much to report on though. He looks exactly the same as last year, except for the fact that his hair is a couple of inches longer and he wears nothing but plain, white T-shirts and jeans now.
Yeah, that's right: he's completely ditched the band logo shirts. Hell, he's ditched logos period. Everything he wears now is completely product placement free. And design free. And effort free.
Matter of fact, put it this way: if that kid dressed any plainer, he'd either be Amish or homeless. Or both.
And for those of you who care, here, let me just see if I can get a picture of him...
This is me and the brown stuff is my hair
Yup. That's him. lol No, j/k, j/k. Here he is:
Im not upside down again
Yeah...
Not a good picture of him. He sucks at photography. Then again, it was a cell phone pic, so...
I dunno.
Anyway, herrrrrrrrrre I am:
GOLUM EYESSSSSSSS!!
GULOM EYYYYYYYYYYYYYES!!! lol
Hey
"Hey. Yew.
What's yew doing here, sonnnnnnnnn?"
lol
Alright. Nuff camera-whoring. I lovvvvvvve you all!
~Love, Belinda

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Wednesday, October 1, 2008


SHMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
;~; I'm sad.
And the worst part is, I have no idea why. ARRRRRGH!
I assume it has something to do with the fact that I'm a loveless ball of lovelessness, and not even in the sexy anime way! T.T

Clearly Cobain was having a serious identity crisis when he wrote this.
Love, Belinda

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Sunday, September 28, 2008


   stab my back
chfjfghvhfj...
I feel sick. Sooo very sick.
It's my own fault though. The only thing more determined to kill me than my own body is my expectations. I know, there are so many people out there who are way worse off than I am (about 60 percent of my friends included) and I really, REALLY shouldn't be complaining about something so stupid as this, but with all these let-downs, is it really any wonder that I have so few ambitions? Is it really any wonder that I barely even try anymore? That I'm so lacking in motivation?
I remember one day when my mom just yelled at me, completely out of the blue for I can't even remember what, then the very next day cornered me and apologized with a tentative: "I'm sorry, I just... I want you to want something. I'm sick and tired of watching you carelessly coast along in life. You never go after anything. You just... You don't seem to care."
Yeah. She thinks I'm too indifferent.
But, actually, it's just the opposite. Some days I could just literally break down in tears from how much I care.
And, just to preserve my reputation for never being able to stay on topic, the kids at my school call me weird. But, at the end of the day, I'm really not that different from everybody else. I want what everybody else wants. I want to be wanted, I want to be accepted, I want to be respected, I want to be understood. I'm just not willing to conform to everybody's expectations and standards in order to attain it all.
And, getting back to my original point, yes, I always act like I'm auditioning for the part of the dictionary definition of "apathetic" in the school play, but that's only because I'm used to it. I'm used to getting mocked, used to getting dirty looks from the socially accepted, used to being called a whackjob behind my back and to my face, used to getting ignored. It's not that I don't care, it's not that it doesn't hurt, it's just what I'm accustomed to. It's just how it is.
But the bottom line is, I care. What my mother doesn't realize is, the problem isn't that I'm too apathetic, it's that I'm not apathetic enough about everything that doesn't matter.
She wants me to care about my future, about my career, about collage, but about 65 percent of the time, I'd much rather worry myself to death over stupid shit like all the dirty looks I keeping getting in the hall-ways or the rumor going around myspace that I'm gay or the fact that it took my ex-boyfriend less than 4 days to get over me and fall completely in love with somebody else.
I'm sorry, I know I sound like a total basket case right now and I'm probably having you all worry for nothing, but... I just feel so vulnerable and insecure right now. Like I'm going to burst into a million pieces any second.

But, well, the point is, ladies and gentlemen: No. I'm not ofuckingkay. NOW, WORRY ABOUT ME, DAMMIT!!!

Lyrics:
Seemed to stop my breath
My head on your chest
Waiting to cave in
From the bottom of my...
Hear your voice again
Could we dim the sun
And wonder where we've been
Maybe you and me
So kiss me like you did
My heart stopped beating
Such a softer sin

(I'm melting, I'm melting)
In your eyes
I lost my place
Could stay a while

And I'm melting
In your eyes
Like my first time
That I caught fire
Just stay with me
Lay with me
Now

Never caught my breath
Every second I'm without you I'm a mess
Ever know each other
Trust these words are stones
why cuts aren't healing
Learning how to love

I'm melting (I'm melting)
In your eyes
I lost my place
Could stay a while
And I'm melting
In your eyes
Like my first time
That I caught fire
Just stay with me
Lay with me
(Stay with me lay with me now)

You could stay and watch me fall
And of course I'll ask for help
Just stay with me now
We could take our heads off
stay in bed just make love that's all
Just stay with me now

I'm melting (I'm melting)
In your eyes
I lost my place
Could stay a while
and I'm melting

In your eyes
Like my first time
That I caught fire
Just stay with me
Lay with me
In your eyes
I lost my place
Could stay a while
and I'm melting
In your eyes
Like my first time
That I caught fire
Just stay with me lay with me
(Stay with me, lay with me)

In your eyes
Let's sleep till the sun burns out
I'm melting in your eyes (I'm melting in your eyes)
Let's sleep till the sun burns out
I'm melting in your eyes

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Saturday, September 27, 2008


P.S. I LOVE (USING) YOU
He was always a sucker for a lay,
She was always a sucker for a lie.
He said he loved her.
(But as far as his favorite victims go, she was was only second best.)
She said she loved him too.
(But only because she thought he was the best she could ever manage to get.)
Yeah, he used her.
But to a certain extent, the entire time, she knew.
And, to a certain extent, she was just all too happy to be used.
Her letters to him always concluded with:
"Love, Me
(because I sure as Hell don't.)"
His final letter to her replied: "P.S.I love you
(But only because nobody else will.)"
And, no, he didn't ever care to try to care between the lays,
But she never cared enough to care that it was all a lie.
And at the end of the day, I guess nobody really wants to read between the lines.
Because what's in between completely ruins the story.
Yeah, we all love a good "The guy gets the girl" ending,
But ladies and gentlemen,
Maybe sometimes it's best that the guy, (who's a monster) doesn't always get the girl (who's a whore.)
Because, yes, the truth will set you free.
But when love is just another form of bondage and the hand holding yours is just another way to tie you down, is freedom really what you want?

Mmmmm-hmm. Fried cynicism, anyone?

Love, Belinda
(Because, if I can help it, nobody else will)

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Wednesday, September 24, 2008


Quiz results.
Alright, my brother is rushing me off the computer, so I get to make this quick.
Replies to comments/quiz results:

Lavi:Spirit week is the week before the first high school dance of the year, which is Homecoming. At my school, the very first day of Spirit week is Pajama Day, where you get to wear your pajamas to school. And, as for your quiz result: You are Amnesia Guy. And that's actually somewhat of a good thing, because while every character on the show is dramatically brooding about their traumatic past, you just sort of sit there, blissfully inactive, because you don't have a past to brood on. Ignorance is bliss, I guess. Your main activity in the show consists of wandering to the ends of the earth, forever seeking clues to your mysterious and occasionally attempting to follow the story-lines of all the other characters, only to walk away with millions of extremely convoluted, nonsensical questions such as "Wait. So if she's married to him, and she's cheating on him, and he's actually her long-lost twin brother, but she thought he died in that freak miniature golf accident 20 years ago and used the insurance money to buy a nose-job,then what happened to the poodle?" So, basically, you just kinda stand in the background, all season, going "Huh? What? Who? But, wait, didn't she...? um, WHAT??? 0_o" Yes, it's a tough job being the professional audience member of a soap opera, (especially when you're living in said soap opera and have no idea what's going on,) but you're doing a splendid job. And, for that, sir, I salute you.Have a gummy bear. *hands you gummy bears*

Alphonse: Yeah. I hate school spirit, but I can't help loving spirit week. I mean, how can you hate a week that allows you to wear your pajamas to school? Quiz Result: You are the victim. Unlike pretty much all the other characters in the show, you are not reduced to tears by the oh-so-tragic plight of split ends and broken nails. God knows you've experienced much, much worse. In fact, by now, you've developed somewhat of a Pollyanna immunity to emotional break-downs. Basically, you're everybody's favorite plucky, brave, enduring heroine. A typical episode for you consists of you finding out for the millionth time, in shock, that your beloved husband has actually been dead for about 2 years and you've been with his evil transsexual twin sister, Alberta, the whole time. But just as you're best friend, Linda, the chief of police, is about to save you from Alberta's deranged clutches, Linda abruptly drops dead of an extremely clandestine brain tumor and Alberta, that twisted fiend, boils her corpse in un-distilled water and spaghetti sauce, and forces you to eat it! Meanwhile, your puppy kills itself and everyone you've ever loved is burned alive in a tragic fire. The end.^^

Cassie:You are the Dreamy Doctor. You're smart, you're kind, you're sensitive, you're devilishly handsome, and you're so impossibly perfect, I could puke. Basically, Cassie, if you were a guy, you'd be every womens dream guy. You spend most of your time on the soap opera running in slow motion to the emergency room, to save some poor schmo from a lethal case of jkalfjalfdjailflaites and being admired from afar by your nurses and colleagues. Eventually, you fall in love with one of your patients, a bright, gorgeous young lady, er, man with a tragic case of bulimia and a self-loathing complex. (Sorry, this result was originally meant for guys.'^^) Luckily, you are able to woo this beauty and cure him of both his bulimia AND his self loathing complex, but unfortunately, he is eventually stolen from you by that bastard, Lazlo. T.T Damn that Lazlo!

So, I hope you all enjoyed taking the quiz and your results. ^^ I tried to make it as amusing as I could.
Love, Belinda

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Monday, September 22, 2008


spirit week of the damned
I thought it was my school's pajama day today.
I also thought it'd be fun to participate in the spirit week tom-foolery.
Well, it's turns out that, in regards to the former, I had thought wrong.'-_-
Yeaaaaaaaaaaah.

Anyway, I feel like making a quiz. So I think I will. Although, I must you, it'll be rather contrived, as it is on such short notice and with so little inspiration.
So, here it is:
WHICH SOAP OPERA CLICHE ARE YOU?

1.Did you have a hard child-hood?
A. Well, my evil step-sister always stole every single one of my boyfriends, my schizophrenic, multi-personalitied, Satin-worshiping mother gave me a bath in lighter fluid and tried to burn me to death when I was 4, and my dad committed suicide on my 10th birthday... But other than that, my childhood was just peachy, thanks! ^^
B. Oh, Gawd, YES! Those Hell-spawned tyrants of so-called "parents" of mine never got me that $39892791789793 diamond necklace I wanted for my 5th birthday. EVER! AND, on top of that, they got my chocolate cake instead of vanilla! CHOCOLATE!! I mean, really: Don't they know that stuff causes pimples?! I swear they were ALWAYS trying to sabotage me like that! ALWAYS!! *Sob* IT WAS SO TRAUMATIC!! ;~;
C.*eats random Barbie doll* Hmmm... Needs salt. :/
D. No, but I'm still young. You could always come over here and make it hard. ;3
E. Well, my childhood was kinda--*is interrupted* by a suspicious muffled voice coming from the closet* Er.. I'm sorry, could you excuse me for a second? '^^ *enters closet. Violent sounds of cracking, whacking, and crashing ensue. A minute later, reappears from closet with blood-stains covering clothes* Sorry bout that. You were saying?^^
F. Not really. It wasn't until I began med-school that the real trouble begin to start. *sighs with nostalgic frustration, dreamy, faraway look in eyes* Damn that Lazlo...
G. Er... I don't really remember, to tell you the truth.

2. Alright. So there's this so-called "perfect" couple. But they eventually break up because he cheated on her. What role would you play in this situation?
A. The girl who was cheated on.
B. The one who stole him away. *scoffs* Oh, don't give me that look! It's the guy's girlfriends fault for being so boring/clingy in the first place! Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to steal the guy away, if they were really so damn perfect.
C.Well, that depends: Was there chainsaws or axes involved when it came time for the victim of this betrayals' revenge?
E. Well... How do you know the guy was, uh, "himself" when he started cheating? How do you know he wasn't... replaced somehow? >:)
F. The doctor who performs open-heart surgery on the poor girl once she develops a chronic heart disease from the shock and drama of being so carelessly betrayed by the one she loved and trusted most.
G.I don't know. Hmmmmm.... Why do I feel so much like Matt Damon all of the sudden...?
3. Pick a lyric, any lyric.
A. She said "Don't, Don't let it go to your head. Boys like you are a dime a dozen. Boys like you are a dime a dozen." She said:" You're a touch over-righted. (You're a touch) And I hate it.."
B. I want to see you all on your knees! (Knees)
You either want to be with me or be me.
C.Do you know the muffin man, the muffin man, the muffin man, the muffin?
D.I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt, so sexy it hurrrrtsssss!
E. I know I'll feel this way forever. I know no one will beg to differ. Good bye, so long, it's been a pleasure.
F.I'm like a rookie paramedic to a siren: Praying for an accident, nobody will let me walk.
G.We come from the breeze, but I don't care forever. I don't need a thing. I cannot remember.

4. Which 3 words fit you most accurately?
A. Fragile, innocent, hurt.
B. Surreptitious, deceiving, cunning.
C. Manic, deluded, dangerous.
D. Seductive, manipulative, flirtatious.
E. Jealous, fake, thieving.
F. Compassionate, smart, serious.
G. Wistful, curious, unknowing.

Tell me which letter you picked the most and I'll message you with the results.
Love,
Belinda

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Sunday, September 21, 2008


They're talking about sending my spoiled, 13-year-old brother to public school. He's been home-schooled his entire life so far. I honestly think he wouldn't last, but then again I thought the same thing about myself last year, and well, I endured it, so who knows.
Besides, it's an indisputable fact that Robert is obviously more social than me. I'm sure he'd conquer the social scene in no time. *shrugs* Speaking of which: School tomorrow.''''///__-
I DUN WANNA GO, I DUN WANNA GO, I DON'T WANT TO GO!!!

My dirty disease...
Sounds naughty. 0.o
~Love, Belinda

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Thursday, September 18, 2008


Wow... I'm REALLY tired. I just spent about 4898237002 hours writing The Catalyst. Haven't quite gotten to the mafia and switchblades part yet, but, rest assured, there is drama. Plenty of it.
Matter of fact, the story's honestly becoming more and more of a soap opera with every chapter.
But, hey. At least no one'll ever be bored reading it.

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Tuesday, September 16, 2008


Never again
I hate him so much. I hate him so much. I hate him so much. I hate him so much. I hate him so much. I hate him so much. I hate him so much. I hate him so much. I. HATE. HIM. SO. MUCH!
He needs to die.
He used me. He toyed with me. And now he's toying with someone else RIGHT in front of me.
Screw him. Screw the whole damn species of boys who pretend to be men.
Oh, but I'm sure Hayley can say it so much better than I can:

Love, Belinda (Because nobody else will)

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