Wednesday, September 26, 2007

ERGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH........ I am so ---ing tired. '-__- Half because I nearly burst a blood vessel in Phys. Ed. today and half because the idiots on my bus were being their hyper, annoying, Satin-spawned selves. Oh, and did I mention I'm still invisible and not worth noticing? Like, happy, happy, happy joy, joy, joy.''''-_____-

Rule of the day: Do not EVER sit at the very back of the bus. Stick with Gus.

OY! That rhymed... Okay, I'm exhausted, so I'm just gonna sulk with my emo curtains now. Au revoir!
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Tuesday, September 25, 2007

What Instrument Should You Play?

You should play bass, and if you already do and like it, that's great! There's a lot of bass in rock music, obviously, but also in Jazz and Blues. It isn't that hard to play once you get the hang of it, and you can be really creative with bass lines!
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Which one of these musicians are best suited for YOU?[[for teen girls]]

You are best suited for Teddy Geiger! :D hehe! cute! (Rate & Message)
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I have no idea who that guy is... But he looks bloody gorgeous.

Who's Your Boyfriend??

You got CRAIG OWENS!!! He likes writing and learning just like you do. He's sweet and funny. He sings in that awesome band Chiodos.
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Er, who? O.o
Nah, you're not wreckin' any homes.



You see other people's relationships as something to respect, not something to destroy. If you're attracted to someone, and you find out that he/she is in a relationship, the attraction melts away almost instantly. That person is off limits, no questions asked. Even if you suspect a relationship isn't going well, you'd never want to be the reason a couple broke up. You'd feel awkward and uncomfortable liking someone who's already taken, so you make every effort to refocus all your loving energy onto someone who needs it more – someone who's single!

You are happy-go-dateable.





You're out there, you're available, and you're optimistic, but you're not advertising in neon lights. You're too chill to run around chasing it, but you don't see the point in making it too difficult for someone you're interested in, 'cause at the end of the day you'd really like to meet someone nice. If they approach you, they'll meet a warm, friendly, sparkly personality who will make them glad they took the chance. And if they can't seem to work up the nerve... for the right person, we bet you'd lay it on the line and do the approaching.

How dateable are your friends? Send them this quiz and make them tell you!

Duuuuuuuuuude... My head hurts. '''-__-
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Sunday, September 23, 2007

Hey. I'm back from my Confirmation retreat. (For those of you who don't know, I'm Catholic and am going to be confirmed in November.)Yeah, it was freakin' awesome, man. All the people there are SO cool. Not to mention, for the past 48 hours or so, That Bitch didn't exist.Out of neighborhood, out of mind. Unfortunately, now that I'm back, he's back to mentally torturing me. Which reminds, here's some Wentz-ish poetry that I wrote yesterday for Hey You.

"Gone with the wind and back with the heat."
I swear to God, the sweat is so not worth the steam. So don't get cocky.
Because you're nothing more than a borrowed face on a careless team.
Then again, I'm just an effect of "Oh, she's slightly clever to just a certain extent."
And every single time you've ever made me anything other than miserably murderous, the only part of it that's ever really yours is your smile.
Everything else is Him in disguise.

Oh, while at my retreat, I also made a list. So here it is.

Hey, wouldn't it be sweet if...

...My Danny and Cassie's Danny made-out?

...The big, ultra macho dude who rides my bus came to school in a pink jumpsuit?

...Pete Wentz, Danny Hicks, and That Bitch had a threesome and let me watch?

...Panic! At THe Disco hi-jacked my bus and took us all out to Taco Bell?

...I got to cross-dress as an either one of the Danny's?

... Miss Patty, my bus-driver, hated That Bitch as much as I do and always drove off without him?

... The Wiggles got to have a professional wrestling match with the cast of Barney?

...Jordan got hit by a truck?

And, last but the exact oppisate of least: Wouldn't it be sweet if guys in girls pants liked girls in guys shirts as much as the girls liked them?

And with that, I leave you.^^ I LOVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVE YOU ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL <3
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Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Hmmmmm.... What happened today? Nothing.(Well, except I managed to not rape That Bitch and 2 chicks in my science class have now designated themselves as my hair-stylists.O.o)
Hmmmmm.... What happened yesterday? Oh, yeah: I discovered that Jordan is the lying, manipulating spawn of Satin. And how did I come to this conclusion, you ask? Well, as we were all getting off the bus to school yesterday, he called unto me: "Hey, Belinda, do you like Dan(A.K.A. That Bitch)?"
(Inner me: "Umm, does constantly wanting to molest him count? 0_o")
Outter Me: "Whyyyyyyyy? O.o"
Jordan:"Because he likes you. You two should go out."
Well, needless to say, after hearing that, I was bursting with girlish excitement and euphoria for the rest of the day. So, after school, when Dan and me were walking home from the bus-stop, I, by some miracle, got up the nerve to ask if what Jordan said on the bus earlier was true. His response was an unjustifiably apathetic no. He didn't even bother to look at me when he said it. Translation: Jordan somehow already knew perfectly well that I liked Dan and then told me he liked me back just to make me miserable. In conclusion: FUCK YOU, JORDAN.

Oh, and the moral of the story is, whenever something seems as if it's too good to be true, it pretty much (almost) always is.


And with that, I leave you.^^ *hugs and kisses*
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Monday, September 17, 2007

Dude....
Anybody got a switch-blade? Or a blow-torch? Or a nail-clipper? O.o Or an extra long and sharp nail-clipper that's been set on fire?... No? Okay. Just checking.
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Friday, September 14, 2007

Autobiography, anyone?
*sigh* I'm in the mood to write something. But I'm sick of poems. So I suppose I'll turn this into an extra wordy post that sounds more like a first person narrative. It's prolly gonna suck because I'm not gonna bother editing it, but how else am I supposed to vent? That said, let the rambling commence...

Damn it. I can't decide what hurts more: My stomach or my head.
If you should ask why these 2 are in such a sorry state, I must designate my heart as the perpetrator. Well, no, not THE perpetrator, but one of them. I believe a great deal of the blame should also go to the cuddly-physiqued, long-haired, I-pod-equipped, somewhat effeminate lad seated across from me. His back is turned and hunched to me, but I know practically by heart what he looks like from the front, side, and almost every other angle you could imagine. Seated to his left and right are his fellow jack-asses, Jordan and Kevin. The boy seated to my left, however, is actually rather sweet. Perhaps because he's at least a year or 2 older than everybody else at this bus-stop, and is therefore more mature. His name is Gus. Sitting across from him is his younger brother, Mod. (Yeah, no idea why his parents named him that.)
So far the only 2 people conversing consistently are Kevin and Jordan. Every now and then, Mod or Gus or Dan might chime in, but for the most part, the majority of us forlornly school-bound teenagers are morosely silent. Morosely silent and not-so-silently morose.(But, hey, what do you expect? I mean, we've been up since 5 or 6 in the morning.)
However, I, unlike everybody else sitting on this pathetic stoop by the rode, actually have a good reason to be depressed. (Well, a good reason to be depressed besides the mountains upon mountains upon mountains of work we're all bound to be assigned.) Which brings us back to my half-broken heart and aching stomach and head. You see, the aforementioned Dan, who is now subjecting himself to deafeningly copious amounts of Velvet Revolver, Guns 'N' Roses, and AC/DC via his I-pod, is my latest obsession. Obsession-slash-object of unrequited love. Meaning, his prescience is quite unbearable. Completely maddening, actually.
I mean, have you ever seen a cat-owner play with their pet by way of a pen-shaped device which is actually a sort of flash light that emits a red beam which cats are, for some reason, always impulsed to chase and attempt to capture? And the cats owner, more because of their own amusement than the cat's, always feels inclined to rapidly change the beams position and therefore make the poor kitty practically keel over with exhaustion and disappointment? Well, I am the cat and Danny is my light. (This is a dramatization, of course, but you understand.)
I chase him, I stalk him, I guard him, once or twice I left anonymous stalker notes in his mail-box, but it's no use. He is but a light, an apparition, and is therefore intangible. Intangible, untouchable, and, of course, unattainable.
In fact, by now, Dan is almost nothing more than a wretched reminder of what I can never have. Just another side-effect of an unfulfilled dream. And for this, I hate him. Every time I see his disgustingly beautiful face and hell-spawned oh-so-molestable countenance, I shake with the fury and impulse to throttle him. Trust me, nothing-and, I repeat:NOTHING good can come of his prescience. (Hence my broken heart, churning stomach, and half-shot nerves.)
That said, hereto after we shall refer to him as Hey You and That Bitch. Because, quite frankly, there's no way in Hell I'll be able to say or even write his name without getting sick. Ya dig? Good. Now back to the bus-stop...
"Hey, Mod," said Gus, "d'you know when they're selling the tickets for home-coming?"
No answer. Dot, dot, dot, dot...
The next sound that came from our direction was Gus giving his music-absorbed brother a tentative rap on the head.
"Ah!" cried the victimized Mod, "What the ---, dude! Ya didn't have to ---ing beat me!" At this fine display of stupidity-filled exaggeration, Gus rolled his eyes.
"Dude. I TAPPED you. Like, suck it up, man. Anyway: you know when home-coming tickets are on sale?"
"Nope."
At this, Gus cursed and returned his listless gaze to the ground.
"Uh, when is home-coming, anyway?" I inquired.
"October 8th. Ya goin'?" Gus.
"Um, yeah, maybe. I dunno." Awkward pause....
"Hmmmm... All the bitches love me because they know that I can rock," murmured Jordan, meditatively. And end conversation.
Now, fast-forward to when the bus arrived.
We all shuffled over to our seats, me making sure to award the driver, Ms.Patty, with her daily friendly smile and good-morning greeting as I walked past.
Same old, same old. It's been going on like this for about 3 or 4 weeks now. Before that, I didn't have a bus-driver. Or a bus-stop. Or a bus. Because, before this, I was home-schooled. And the year before that, the year before that, the year before that, and about 5 or 6 years before that. Yes, that's right: I have been home-schooled up until this year, 9th grade. However, I am NOT some freaky, introverted home-school stereo-type. So PLEASE do not expect me to be. Thank you.
Anyway, fatefully enough, I ended up sitting in the same place as I did yesterday. Which was DIRECTLY behind the seat of That Bitch. "Hmm..." I reflected. "So, since I'm in the same position as yesterday, shall I attempt to repeat yesterdays actions, as well?" Why, yes, I think I shall. However, getting up the courage to repeat yesterdays actions wasn't quite as easy. It took me a full 15 minutes to even touch the rims of his seat. It took me a full 21 minutes to give the hood of his jacket, which currently hung loose about his back, an almost nonexistent tap. Eventually, however, I FINALLY summoned the nerve to oh-so-discreetly feel the the bottom tips of his light brown scene hair, then rapidly yank my hand away. I did this over and over and over again until we arrived at school. The tuffs of hair I touched were the closest to his throat. I realized this with a thrilled sense of mirth later, as I reflected how close I had come to FINALLY strangling the adorable Bitch. For some reason, the oblivious Hey You didn't seem to notice. And thus, just this once, I managed to enter the damn labyrinth of information with the most mirthful grin you could imagine painted on my lips.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Thursday, September 13, 2007

Alright.... I've been tagged. So here're my facts.

1.My goal in life is to either murder or severely torture every last guitar-playing scene-kid named Danny, Dan, or Daniel. (THAT MEANS YOU, BENNOT!!!! T.T)

2.I specialize in unrequited love and emo poetry.

3.Jason Wenterz did not lose his virginity to his mom.... He lost it to yours. (XD, yeah, people who don't read my story aren't gonna get that.)

4. About 18 hours ago, I drew a portrait of myself holding a loaded gun to an oblivious Danny. It showed me radiating morbid, over-whelming hatred, giving him a piercing glare, aiming a loaded gun at the back of his neck, another loaded gun at my head, and him with his back to me thinking: "Hmm... I wonder why I feel as if something horrible is about to happen?" XD Ahhh, obsession is such fun, isn't it?

5. In my mind, home-schooling will forever be better than public school.

6. I am the sex. 'Nuff said.

7.I am non-stop being worshiped by 6 and 7-year-old.

8.My little brother, Charlie, is gonna be the next big thing. As in, he's gonna beat Justin Timberlake's, Nick Lache's, and The BackStreet Boy's asses right outta the lime-light. BELIEVE IT, BITCHES!!
So, anyway, yeah... Those are my 8 facts. The people I tag are: Cassie, Aaya, Jenniz, Homsar, and.... Dude, that's all I got. ;-; I'M NOT POPULARRRRRRRRRRR!!!~Shadowmesta is teh seckz

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Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Dude.... Our computer crashed again. *bangs head* So, anyway, I'm just gonna ask y'all some stupid questions....

1.Would you rather see Yuki, a somewhat frail 15-year-old girl, massacre Jason Wenterz, a fully grown rock-star who has a reputation for being crass and tough, with a plastic candy cane decoration or see Jason force Shanty, Jay's 21-year-old nephew, to cross-dress as Yuki?

2.Wouldn't it be great if you and me were DEAD? (Yes, that's a MCR song. What of it?)

3. Which book is better: Of Mice and Men or To Kill a Mocking Bird?

4. YO' MOMMA!! No, wait, I can do better than that.... YO' MOMMA'S FACE!!!... No, let's try that 1 more time.... YO' FACES MOMMA!!! THERE we go! ^^

Anyway... I need my Panic!. So I guess I'll y'all tomorrow. Stay pretti-ful.~Love, Shadowmesta~
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Monday, September 10, 2007

Shmeh..... bad day today. my schedule got changed. meaning,just as i was finally getting used to everything, i have to start over.''''-_- uh-huh. life's a bitch...
on your way home, meet me in the grave-yard.
there's no way they could expect us to not drown when our hearts are this full of lard.
remember when we first met beside the double doors?
Well, since then, since when were we supposed to start happening?
since then, where and when did you ever consider giving me something more to fend for?
Oh, no, don't you hide your eyes from me. it's undeniable.
You always knew.
But i never asked because i always assumed.
Admit it: you never had any intention of giving me an answer.
you just wanted a broken heart you abuse and contort to keep you amused.
But this is where the party ends and where the real fun begins.
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Thursday, September 6, 2007

I'VE BEEN DITCHED!!!! *sobs* Shyeah, it's back to school night. Meaning, I am at school. I am also supposed to be with my mother, who is supposed to be talking with my teachers about how well I'm doing. However, since I'm typing this, it's obvious that this is not happening. Why? As stated before:MY.MOTHER.DITCHED.ME. Why? She had to go pick up my brother and drop him off at home. That should've only taken her 40 minutes. It's been about an hour.WHERE.THE.HELL.IS.SHE???????
Oy....I suppose I better go look for her now. Damn it...
Oh, but before I do, I've got something to tell y'all: there is a guy I have a crush on who lives across the street. His name is Dan, but due to him being the most self-absorbed, frustrating Ali EVER, he shall now be refered to as Hey You and That Bitch. Anyway, for the past 2 weeks or so, I have been leaving annoynomous(sp?) stalker notes in his mail-box. Oh, don't look at me like that, they are not at all your stereo-typical love-letters. In fact, the last note I sent him contained the phrase: "I hope you choke on the infected uterus of a rabbid raccoon, you ass-hole!" XD (Hmmmmm, I wonder why I don't have a boy-friend....) Anyway, the exciting part is, in the last letter I sent him, I asked him if he knew who I was, and, if I do, please write back. So I should get an answer sometime tomorrow.
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