LoveYHate
LifeYDeath
TruthYLie
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FRIENDS
- Angel-Girl-1619, Female
- *Blair18, Male
- Charlie;18, Female
- -circa-719, Male
- Dinosaurs...?19, Male
- dumbboy64, Male
- Hajjar18, Male
- IAmFake,19, Male
- Jamalb21, Male
- LIES;17, Female
- XOXO--*Krystin17, Female
- xxxdreamlessxxx18, Female
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BASICS
| Height: | 174 cm - 178 cm (5'9" - 5'10") |
| Birthday: | February 02, 1992 |
| Sexual Orientation: | Heterosexual |
| Dating: | Single |
| Living Situation: | Living with parents/relatives |
| Location: | St. Albert, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada |
| Join Date: | 05:19pm | Aug 04, '06 |
| Profile Updated: | 08:23am | Dec 15, '09 |
| Last Active: | 10:22pm | Jul 02, '08 |
INTERESTS
| Reading Material: | Comic books, Fiction, Fantasy, Graphic novels, Mysteries, Myths and Legends, Non-fiction, Poetry, Romance |
| Movies: | Action, Animated, Anime, Comedy, Drama, Horror, Independent, Romantic Comedies, Tearjerkers, Teen |
| Art: | Doodling, Clothing design, Journal Writing, Photography, Sculpture, Singing, Song Writing, Writing |
| Animals/Pets: | Cats, Dogs, Fish |
| Video Games: | Puzzles, Role Playing, Strategy |
| Music: | Alternative, Classic Rock, Country, Death Metal, Drum & Bass, Electronica, Emo, Funk, Garage, Goth, Hardcore, Hip-Hop, Jazz, Metal, Pop, Punk, Rock, Ska, Techno |
| Sports: | Basketball, Bicycling, Bowling, Rugby, Skiing, Swimming, Volleyball |
| Activities: | Cooking, Karaoke, Listening to music, Pool/Billiards, Reading |
| Outdoor: | Camping, Backpacking, Exploring, Sightseeing, Traveling |
| Computers: | Chatrooms/IRC, E-mail, Instant Messaging, Surfing the net |
ELLO
WICKED SHIT
TOTALLY BORED
I was bored and so i was thinking about how one of my friends was slitting there wrists and i wrote this poem.
You went to far.
A Poem About Cutting Your Wrists...it doesnt ryme but tell me what you think
Your not skinny,
so your not cool.
your not strong,
so your a wimp.
Your not perfect,
so your beaten,
Your not one of them,
so your hated,
this leads you,
to hate life,
to make you want to end yours,
because you think your alone,
so you bring a new friend,
the blade,
you draw it,
slowly across your wrists,
the blood slowly drips,
plit,
plat,
onto the floor,
and your clothes,
but it calms you,
you find a comfort,
in this new friend,
the not so silver,
blood drenched
razor blade,
you clean up,
what ever evidence there is,
and you cover it,
with make-up,
braclets,
and sweaters,
and you continue,
to meet,
with this new friend
when ever you feel down,
or that you dont belong,
or that you want to die,
or just to want,
something to comfort you,
you pull the blade,
across your wrists,
opening up old scars,
and starting fresh ones,
but then people notice,
you slipped up,
you forgot to cover it,
with the make-up,
or braclets,
or sweaters,
and they start to bully you worse,
they begin to resort,
to phisical violance,
they beat you,
making you want to go home,
to the comfort,
of your only friend,
the little blade,
hidden away,
so no one can find it,
the same little blade,
that started this in the first place,
but you dont care,
you run home,
to your friend,
and you begin once again,
opening old scars,
and starting new ones
the dripping of your blood,
soothes,
and comforts you,
it makes you smile,
and you find a place where you belong,
a place,
only you and your friend,
the blade,
know about,
a week from this day though,
they barry you,
in the cemetary,
under the shade of an apple tree,
with a headstone,
that states your age,
name,
and picture,
it was blood loss they say,
you died,
from cutting to deep,
you see unfortunatly that day,
you went to far,
you hit a vein,
you let your blood spill,
and now you lie,
with the angels,
looking down on everyone,
who came to wish you,
a final good bye,
and you relize,
how many people,
actualy cared about you,
then it finally hits you,
that this was,
the biggest mistake,
of your now ended life,
leaving these people to suffer,
through the bullying,
and torchure,
alone,
was something,
you would never forget
and that you never,
should have let happen.
You went to far.
A Poem About Cutting Your Wrists...it doesnt ryme but tell me what you think
Your not skinny,
so your not cool.
your not strong,
so your a wimp.
Your not perfect,
so your beaten,
Your not one of them,
so your hated,
this leads you,
to hate life,
to make you want to end yours,
because you think your alone,
so you bring a new friend,
the blade,
you draw it,
slowly across your wrists,
the blood slowly drips,
plit,
plat,
onto the floor,
and your clothes,
but it calms you,
you find a comfort,
in this new friend,
the not so silver,
blood drenched
razor blade,
you clean up,
what ever evidence there is,
and you cover it,
with make-up,
braclets,
and sweaters,
and you continue,
to meet,
with this new friend
when ever you feel down,
or that you dont belong,
or that you want to die,
or just to want,
something to comfort you,
you pull the blade,
across your wrists,
opening up old scars,
and starting fresh ones,
but then people notice,
you slipped up,
you forgot to cover it,
with the make-up,
or braclets,
or sweaters,
and they start to bully you worse,
they begin to resort,
to phisical violance,
they beat you,
making you want to go home,
to the comfort,
of your only friend,
the little blade,
hidden away,
so no one can find it,
the same little blade,
that started this in the first place,
but you dont care,
you run home,
to your friend,
and you begin once again,
opening old scars,
and starting new ones
the dripping of your blood,
soothes,
and comforts you,
it makes you smile,
and you find a place where you belong,
a place,
only you and your friend,
the blade,
know about,
a week from this day though,
they barry you,
in the cemetary,
under the shade of an apple tree,
with a headstone,
that states your age,
name,
and picture,
it was blood loss they say,
you died,
from cutting to deep,
you see unfortunatly that day,
you went to far,
you hit a vein,
you let your blood spill,
and now you lie,
with the angels,
looking down on everyone,
who came to wish you,
a final good bye,
and you relize,
how many people,
actualy cared about you,
then it finally hits you,
that this was,
the biggest mistake,
of your now ended life,
leaving these people to suffer,
through the bullying,
and torchure,
alone,
was something,
you would never forget
and that you never,
should have let happen.
LATEST BLOG ENTRY
03:38am | Oct 09, '07 | Comments(1)
Is It Possible,
To be friends with someone,
If your mad at them,
If you want to throw something at them,
If you argue everytime you see them,
If there your friend,
then the fight usually end a minute later,
but what if it doesnt,
what if it never ends,
what if you look back on it,
10 or even 20 years later,
by then you can't even remember,
what the fight was about,
because it was probably something stupid anyways.
To be friends with someone,
If your mad at them,
If you want to throw something at them,
If you argue everytime you see them,
If there your friend,
then the fight usually end a minute later,
but what if it doesnt,
what if it never ends,
what if you look back on it,
10 or even 20 years later,
by then you can't even remember,
what the fight was about,
because it was probably something stupid anyways.