Ugh. I haven't blogged in quite some time. Infact, I don't even remember my last entry. On any site. My deadjournal is probably dead by now. That had such issues anyway.

At the moment I'm in the dark, well almost, on a strangely loud keyboard. Maybe most keyboards are this loud? I think perhaps they are. I used to connect my usb keyboard to my laptop just because I didn't like my laptop keyboard but then at night it just got too loud so I adjusted to using the laptop one and now this one sounds incredibly loud and its quite annoying. I'm at my friends house. Its 1.32am on sunday morning, it was her birthday on friday. A friend of ours made me skull a bottle of wine. I don't like wine but I was fine. And today I've had so many meds and painkillers and then came here got fucking stoned and fucked up on jim beam and jack daniels and a few margueritas. I had a slight nap for about 20 minutes and the other 2 girls are in the bedroom with this guy. They're not getting up to anything dodgy mind you, well they werent while I was near. My friends room is separate to the house, its mroe like she has a unit of her own with 2 bedrooms, a living room, a bathroom and a kitchen which is separate from the main house. I'm currently alone in the main house. 'Tis much warmer and has internet. I'm not sure but I'm guessing they're not up to too much mischief. Especially considering the last time I made out with one of those girls, the birthday girl got kinda shitty and uncomfortable and left us after promising not to ditch us. Apparently shes not into the whole bi thing when its intense making out lol. Which made me laugh because one party we went to she kept trying to kiss and lick me cos this guy was offering her a cigarette if she did so. I love the world we live in. idiots.

So yes, alone in the main house in the bedroom with the computer. I used all the credit on my cellphone calling this guy thats quite hot while I was semi drunk. That was fun. He's got a super sexy voice too. Now I'm completely out of credit on both phones, but I have a few minutes left on my calling card. I might make a new friend in another country just so I can call them lol. Seems like fun.

Eep. Now I'm flirting with Scott on msn. He's going to call me. I told B-rad when he txted me and now he wants to call me after Scott does. Boys huh? How strange they can be. Fucking B-rad ignores me for weeks and suddenly decides to txt me and now wants to call. What the fuck. Flirting makes me lose my train of thought.

Ok so I gotta write fast. Scott wants to call. So much has happened lately. With marriage proposals and my intense wanting to accept.... but having a crush on a 16yr old girl doesnt help anything! I realy like this girl. I LOVE jd though and he knows everything about the random guys I flirt with and tries to understand the things I do and say but he doesntknow that i have this huge crush on Aimee. Its insane. So new meds again. Whats up with that? its really starting to fuck me off. I wish they'd just decide what they think is wrong with me and fix it. I had always said theres nothing wrong with me and I dont need to be fixed. But now I want more than anything to be fixed. Who wants to fix me?? I am broken. I'm not right and theres something very wrong but not too wrong. I think im getting better because I do want to fix it. But how. Grr. I keep flirting and changing my mind as to what I'm saying. Basically I've been so fucking depressed lately. The new meds dont fucking help with depression. Although they seem to make my mind clearer, but my feelings sadder. Make sense? Grr. Dans talking to me. What, The. FUCK!

Shane. I love him. So much. And yet I'm being horrible to him. Right now. I think hes only trying to be nice.... but hes sickening me and making me furious. After my biggest cutting session, I told him and he asked if he could see me. Since I wouldnt let anyone see them... and now I put the photos on my dp in msn and yet now hes saying "please stop putting those up" and keeps telling me how horrible it is. How horrible I am. Fuck. I can't sleeeeeeeeep! I want to, so much. I lie in bed for hours, but nothing!! I wasnt to go home! No I fucking dont! I want to go to Shane! But I dont know if he'll take me anymore. I just dont know.

CRAP! 

So saturday night was weird. Raging with my friend. it was quite fun for some of the time, it ended up being quite fucked up though. We wore too much make up, turned up the stereo, posed for silly photos and raged around the house. What fun:]

After a few hours of drinking and manic dancing, we calmed down and talked for a while. Quite seriously. It got into relationships and self harm. She started crying and we both started blabbing and balling about everything and anything. It was strange. I considered us to have been quite close.... but there were things that we jsut ended up telling each other, things I dont usually tell people. It was so very strange. She started talking about her own self harm and suicide.... and her fucked up family. I've never liked them... which she knows, and I know she has troubles with them but it all just got very heavy and complicated. There was so much hugging and crying and kissing. Not like making out, but there was the occasional kiss on the lips and it was very odd. Very, very odd. Eventually she got sort of violent, grabbing and strangling me. I was freaking out because we had just discussed my issues with control and rape. Yet here she was attempting to wrestle me down. I was really really freaking out. I was screaming and she was yelling at me.... And I was quite fucking pathetic and useless, I just kind of gave up and laid there. Fucking pathetic.

It did get quite funny. She thought she killed me. I was lying face down on her legs and she was pushing me off, then like lightly slapping my face telling me to wake up and then she just started screaming "Oh god!" Oh I should note, by now I had gained control of myself. I had actually got back to a normal mindset while she was strangling me, so thats mainly why i didnt try to hurt her back, i was jsut scared and didnt want her to get hrut but couldnt think of how to get out. Eek bad typing, stressed. Anyway, got up and ran away down the road. She was just lying there crying. When I got back she started screaming at me again. i just wanted my phone. She took it from me while I was txting and started yelling at me "Its not real!!" Hmm so yeah... it was odd... I cant really be bothered blogging right now. Edit later I suppose.

Hmm ok so I ran into my counsellor today. Well, old counsellor really. I stopped seeing her last year. I saw her once this year... but that was only because I needed to ask her a question about the ball and I followed her into her office, would rather have been embarassed infront of her than having to ask the principals/principles(?) and being rejected. She was in my art room checking up on... I don't even know what. I wasn't paying all that much attention. it was first period and I had missed assembly and was freezing cold and just wanted to drink my coffee in peace. Anyway one thing lead to another and my gorgeous though clumsy favourite school buddy gets turps all over my jumper, so i took it off and my art teacher and ex counsellor are standing there looking at my scars. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. When my accounting teacher found out a few years ago that I cut myself, he started acting way different toward me. I haven't had my art teacher in past years so he doesn't really know me and I like him and didn't want him to start treating me differently, like theres something wrong with me. I just stood there for a bit then sort of crossed my arms into me and wrapped them in my jumper and went to sit back down and just tried to calm myself down because I was getting surprisingly upset. Excounsellor came and started talking to me.... asking about new cuts and whatnot. She sent me home to go get a new jumper.

I cried while I was walking home. I felt relatively stupid crying though. But for some reason it just really upset me. I think its mostly because I really like my art teacher. It's not that I'm embarassed by my scars, sometimes I revel in having them. It's just that I don't like the way it changes how people act towards me. Its more sadness than embarassment. Maybe that does make it embarassment? I don't know. But its like... the way people act towards people that self harm is just... different. There are people that know me but don't know that I self harm and yet I'm sure if they did, they wouldn't act the same. I really don't like it. Well sometimes I don't mind. People I don't know or like can treat me however the hell they like, but it just kills me when people I like act like I'm... less of a person when they find out about the cutting. I think thats the main reason I don't like cutting. I just... lose people. Even some of my really good friends treat me differently since finding out. They try not to, but their overwhelming attempts at being there for me when I seem down, although im generally just sleepy, are quite suffocating and annoying. I really do appreciate what they try to do for me, but sometimes it makes me feel worse. Like they've changed? Even though they havent, its jsut their attitude toward me.

I was cutting my leg earlier this evening. I think the sheer stupidity I felt doing it prompted me to whine on here. I may put pictures up when i find my phone cable. Although its likely I'll forget and just not do it. I don't even know why i was cutting myself. I don't think it was at all emotional, I just wanted to. Pathetic. What else is there to say?

Interesting. I was stressing this morning about being late for the bus that was taking me to my netball tournament. I woke up about an hour later than I had planned. I txted someone else to check we were still going, then searched for my netball gears and jumped in the shower. After that I realised I didn't have enough time to run into town on my way to school to get food for the day so I had to decide between straightening my hair (it had been straightened already, just needed... erm, touchups I suppose) and eating breakfast. I chose to straighten my hair. Now, the interesting part: I was stressed and just not thinking a lot, went to spray the straightenening serum stuff into my hair and drink my drink.... but ended up squirting juice into my hair and spraying serum into my mouth.

Not nice.

Oh my sweet revenge will be yours for the taking. It's in the making baby ooooooooooooooooooooh.

I've completely forgotten about what it was I was wanting to write about. Fucking anus. That's right, anus.

Its been happening a lot lately. I jsut forget things. FUCK! It used to not worry me when I forgot stuff, I took it as sort of a personality trait kind of thing. But now, not so much. Now it pissese me off that I can't remember such simple things. Its so frustrating!!

I've got to stop writing. Not things like this.... but stories. I get so involved in my writing... that it effects me too much. I spend so much time thinking about each character, what they've been through, what they're going through, it sucks with some. When it gets to the emotionally disturbed character in a story, I spend hours thinking about them and I feel as though they are my memories, my thoughts and my feelings I'm writing about. And when a bad thing happens to them, I get upset about it. 

The worst thing is when my friends are talking about stuff, they make jokes about things that I usually wouldnt care about but if its somewhat relative to a bad experience for a character of mine, it hurts. And it even effects my school work, they made me go to the counsellor again. We were talking about rape in class and I got rather upset about it all, some of the more insensitive types even went as far to make jokes, not in a disgusting sort of way, jsut what most people would chuckle at. But seeing as one of my characters has had horrible experiences dealing with rape, i got so emotional. I walked out of class and burst into tears.

I keep crying. Things keep happening and I keep crying. And sometimes I have these.... sort of like visions except more memories. Images flashing in my head. And its of horrible things that I write about. Murder, suicide, violence, sickness, war, rape. And I feel like its happening to me and sometimes i think it is/has. Sometimes I don't know whats real. Later on, I stop and think and I know I'm just being silly. But when it happens, its so intense and I don't realise its just my mind. 

I don't like it.

Wow. Weirdest sex ever. I think I love him. Aaargh. Frightening? not really.... But definitely surprising.

I must also note, most painful sex ever. I've always fanticised about something like this... never thought it would actually happen, or that I would be so accepting of it. it was so intense. So.... just, fun! I feel surprisingly good :S confusing!!

I love you baby!

I love my bf. So much. But the weird thing is that I also hate him. Possibly more than I love him?? I'm always thinkign about him... trying to find a way to rbeak up with him. Well, no have to do it myself. But get him to break up with me.... I promised I'd never leave him so I kinda can't...

Fucking hell. He just told me he got depressed and hurt himself with wires and cords. I think he expects me to be disappointed and sympathetic because apparently I'm driving him to this depression.... but i just don't care. If he's so fucking depressed, why won't he hurry up and break up with me??! He keeps doing sad faces and going on and on about it.... and I've told him its ok and I'm not disappointed then we change the subject and he keeps changing it back. This is what he always does. He just always always always tries to get me to feel sorry for him, or worried, or something. He's such an attention seeking freak.

He drives me to depression constantly. Well, not depressions actually. Sorry for that, I jsut mean that I get so fucked up talking to him that I end up going a bit crazy and having random.... episodes. He drives me to fits really. I cannot stand him. He makes me so mad. He makes me hate myself. And yet, I can't leave him because I promised I wouldn't,. And he's so fucking stupid too.... grr. I just don't know what to do. It's so confusing., fucked up and just plain funny.

I'm dying on the inside and I love it.

:D


Talking to some interesting people at the moment. Both of whom are very different. Had to block a crazy guy who wouldn't stop asking me out.... 10 minutes after he had asked if he knew who I was. Sily/creepy boy. I miss my Jesse. So much!!

I've decided I love watching guys wank for me. It's so hot.

You know who I hate? Everyone. Why? Sometimes I'm not entirey sure. People are just so, annoying. I don't really hate everyone, just the general public. Or what I consider to be the general public. People are stupid, disgusting, foul creatures. They're all so judgemental and hyprocritical. People suck.

If you cut yourself, you MUST be depressed.

If your bf is more than a year or 2 older than you, you MUST be a slut.

If you dress in black and kill yourself, you MUST be emo and it MUST be researched and analyzed and broadcast all over the news. because there's something wrong with being emo, there's something wrong with being you. And yet if you kill yourself without dressing in black, you MUST have been bullied, it MUST have been someone elses fault.

I've completly lost my point of where I was going with this. The fact is, people suck. Everyone always goes on about "Oh you have to be yourself" but if you are you just get shot down and told there's something wrong with you. If you dare to step outside the confines of the norm, there is something wrong with you. You must be judged. You must be labelled. THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH YOU! How can you not get that?! 

Example: "Do this, however you want"
And when it's done
"What? Not like that. You can't do it like that, you have to do it this way"

You see? No? Well that's probably because it was a shit example.

Rules. Rules are what stop us from being ourselves. Now if we looked upon rules simply as guidelines, perhaps the world would be more open to everyone. But we don't. There are strict social rules. If you do one thing slightly different, you're a freak loser or a sell out. You can't win. People want you to evolve. People want you to be the same. People want you to be what they think you should be. You can't be different. It's just not right. 

Like fashion, for instance. I've seen and read many a person talk about fashion. They say "It should be your own style, that's what's important." And then someone dresses the way they want and the same person turns around and says "You shouldn't wear something like that. It's horrible." YOu see now? And these people that dress in what they want get trashed completely, for having their own idea. Their own opinion. If they like it, they wear it. It's not about what other people want. And what happens? They get destroyed because of the more influential people that are judging them.

The fact is, you can't hope to be yourself and be accepted for that person in the general society. Unless, of course, you're just like them. Another boring clone. Over the past week I have developed a strange need to fit in. Actually, it's more of a want. I don't know why. I've never really strived for acceptance before. I think it's being in the top netball team. It's weird. I'm not with my friends. I'm not with people that know me, or even pretend to understand me. Lately, I've really wanted to fit in. To enjoy spending time with my team. But I can't. It's hard. I can't be myself and be accepted. It's not the way it works. When I'm around them I tend to act more like them, these sugar coated dolls that are pretty much "the popular kids". And then there's me, the reject. The weird kid that cuts herself. The one who barely speaks a word. The different one. I'm not like them and for some reason it hurts. This si the fault of the last remaining remnants of humanity. I am indeed human. People require acceptance, they need to fit in, they need to be loved. I didn't need this before. But now, now I do. Now I sit and wodner why I don't fit it. How can I change? Should I change/ Should they change? Why does anyone really need to change? I'm lost again.

I need to know why my feelings toward people have changed. Why do I suddenly desire social acceptance. Around my friend's I'm fine, I'm me and they accept and encourage this. But I don't have them at school. And that's the way t's been for quite some time. Now I don't have Jack, my dearest Jackal. How I miss him! He's gone to London now. Well, not yet. I think he's travelling first. Then him, Gorgeous and Alek are going to London for uni or college or whatever it's called there. And my gorgeous darling Joel is in Greece being all foreign and whatnot, how I miss him. Next year I'm going to Italy! Won't that be fun!! To play Ki-O-Rahi. Me and my mates can be ourselves in Europe, different countries, but at least it'll be the same continent.

I'm lost AGAIN. Dammit. Time to go I think. I have netball in the morning.

I am finally over it. Vena Amori have split, and I have accepted it.

I seem to have some sort of attraction to Paul London. More so than Dani Filth! He's gorgeous! He's so sexy, god he makes me horny. It's odd watching him beat the shit out of other guys and he manages to stay looking good throughout the whole match. It's great. I feel like a 12 year old pop tart. Oh well.

I want poptarts. I might go buy some in the morning before training.

Ok, I'm a masochist. I admit it. I love it. I love being used. I love being 'mistreated'. I am indeed a masochist, in every sense of the word. It's not just sexual. Even interacting with people, I'm not only ok with people not liking me, I revel in their hatred. Oh it excites me so! I LOVE IT! God and right now I just want a guy to come into my room, take, off my towel and have his violent way with me. I love to see the anger mixed with lust and desire in a man's eyes as he takes complete control of himself and me. Just feeling his hot sweaty body grinding against my own cold flesh, his burning lust, or anger or whatever it is that makes him so sexy and passionate. Guy's that are unpredictable and hard to control are so sexy! And guys that are not afraid to go after what they want. I'm horny. Really horny. I can't help it.

Nothing from nowhere, I'm no one at all. =)

I'm not really sure what I'm doing today. Well, I know what I'm doing. But I'm a little lost. You know what I mean? No? Well that's OK. I don't really care.

Let's see...... how was your day?

Well it was alright I suppose. It started out bad as normal. Not horribly bad, but just not good. Once again I was woken by the television in the next room on an insanely high volume for 9 am. Of course, it was my dearest sister and her fugly boyfriend trying to cover up the sounds of their voices.... and.... well whatever else it is they were doing. That will always disturb me. He's a nice guy, but no matter how nice a guy she brings home, as long as he's screwing my baby sister I can't sit in the room with him and play nice. Hmm...... she's actually my older sister. But I'm always having to be the responsible one and I always have to lend her money and deal with everyone's shit around the house.

So anyway, that was the first hour or so of today. Lying in bed, trying to figure out where I'd thrown my clothes last night and also trying not to open my eyes. Sometimes I'd prefer to just pretend it's still dark so I can relax, rather than having to face the hideous bright light of the sun. Oh and also, there was a substantial amount of writing in frustration and hatred. For reasons unbeknown to me, whenever I'm woken by the tv I get really very frustrated. Actually, I get angry. In generally involves me screaming, to myself because I know no one else can hear me, and then face down putting a pillow over my head in a vain attempt to block the sound, and then rolling over and silencing my screams with the pillow until my head and throat hurt too much. It's a good routine. If it doesn't calm me down, well then I just do it agaiuntil I get tired. Or if I'm actually wearing my clothes I just get up and face the day. I should try that one more often.

As usual, all the doors, windows and curtains in the house were open. So yes, that meant I was instantly blinded by the light the second I stepped from the dark confines of my room. It sucked. Much like every other day. My god I'm sounding so...... blah.

Oh well. I'm sure I'll deal with it. And if yu can't, you're not even supposed to be reading this anyway, so there! Ha. Yeah...... that made sense.

I started painting a new picture today. So far it's just white and yellow. But tomorrow it'll have more. It's a bit...... lame. But that's OK. For now. I'm hoping it'll get significantly better. It says VENOM a few times on it. And it will say it a few more tiems. I miss Venom. She's my ex, just in case I haven't written that here before. I'm going to see her tomorrow night, so that should be good. I was supposed to see her tonight, but I didn't end up going to aucks. I'm still slightly obsessed with her, even though I haven't seen her in about a month. I still have a great scar from her, she gave it to me January 28th....... we were at Parachute. That's a christian music festival. It was legitimate fun. We got to go along and camp out for the weekend, hang with mates and just be away from our parents who have to trust us, who wouldn't be trusted at christianfest?? It was the last night, and we both ditched our other plans to hang out. We went up on the hill and overlooked the whole festival. It was quite a sight. The rides were still going, so there was great flashy lights, the various stages were still going strong and it was such a great atmosphere. There was something disturbingly powerful about sitting above all of this. And some strange power over ourselves as we sat out on the ledge above the gravel and rocks. But the best part was when it rained. We could see hundreds, or maybe thousands, of people at the mainstage still having fun, steam rising off the all. And hundreds of kids running around, trying to get to tents. And there was us two, atop of the hill, being all lesbianish as only we could be. It was so sweet, watcher her cut open my ankle with her favourite blade and suck and lick the blood as the mascara ran from her gorgeous green eyes. She was so beautiful, blood running from her neck and lips, when the wind would stop she looked so surreal with her hair soaked and looking as though her hair itself was dripping, I remember just sitting there, staring at her, mesmerized , she looked so beautiful, so sexy, and she stopped and looked at me really weird. It was so cute. She goes "what?!" with the most gorgeous smile, she made even the stupidest word sound so cute. I loved being with her, in the rain. I loved just sitting there with someone that understood. She was so hot. We were runnign through the rain, through the crowds, trying to get to her tent. I remember she ran straight in and kicked off her shoes, while I stayed in the small covered area just outside, trying tot ake off my boots. By the time I managed that,  I opened the tent flap and she was in there drying her hair, kneeling topless in her favourite[my favourite too] mini skirt. She had a torch on and she crawled over and helped remove my top and skirt, which were really wet and heavy. Anyway, that was Venom. My gorgeous ex who I still lust after and obsess about every once in a while.

What was I talking about? Dammit, I forget.

I sat with my razorblades for a solid hour or so before coming online tonight. I walked up the road, and just sat in the dark. Just sitting. I wanted so much to just cut something. Not "as a way of coping.....*sob sob*" but just because. I wanted blood. So much. I wanted the smell, I wanted the taste. But then the horrible school counsellor MRS LUKE came into my head. God! She infuriates me! And suddenly I was worried about what affect thismight have on my mother. That's a new one! I  was actually so concerned about my mother, that I stopped. It was weird. And annoying. I don't know where it came from, actually I'm guessing from Mrs Luke. They make me see her at school for cutting myself. Oh well.

I'm bored now. And I've lost my point so I'm going. Night.

As stated, I got hell bored and here's another crappy sonnet to prove it. I should probably note they're not really sonnets, just 14 line rhyming things. =]

Pure evil, perhaps insane, or just a boy
With a temper; it’s all the same. I know
It’s hard to push through the wasteland of woe
Inside your head. Wholly destroyed, like Troy,
Does it make you proud? Are you filled with joy
When it’s said and done? When the red does flow
Cold rivers? When will you see you’re not Al Snow
And I’m not Head for you. Not just a toy.
Your hatred, it kills through your eyes. My fears
Feed it, it grows. The fear of loss, not pain
I can’t lose you. Don’t hate the silly tears
I’ll cry when I go flying once again.
You won’t stop, even at my desperate plea.
But that’s OK. At least Jesus loves me.

=] Silly, I know. Oh well. And I just had to write Al Snow in there. He's great. Haha so's Head. I'm gonna go buy some more ECW DVDs soon[ish]. I'll try find an old school one with Al Snow, just to see if it's one with "We want head!" on it. Oh shit, I have to buy Meelz a birthday present. That sucks. She didn't buy me one...... and hey, my birthday was before hers....... her party is a week from now. Which is weird, considering her birthday was a month ago. Oh that's right, she did get me a present. It was weird. She got me this GREAT Trivium poster. It's awesome. The thing is, it's the same poster she amde me buy the week ebfore school started which was like the first week of February. She's a weird kid, but oh well. I think I'll just buy a DVD or 2 and see how it goes from there. Hmm.... last year she got me redbull and peanut butter :) That was hilarious.

Whoops. I have to get changed before we go. So ciao for now :P

I've decided to justify my reasons for creating a livejournal account. Well, not really. Just to a suitable level for my own peace of mind, I doubt it will end up being an actual reason. It was actually Jack that started this. And then I started rambling on in my head and figured I may as well do it here.

You see, my dearest Jackal came to FINALLY return my Great Southern Trendkill CD and somehow he caught on to the fact that I have a lj account. Long story short, he wants to know why I have it and why I haven't added any of my friends.

There is a simple, and a complicated explanation. I'm not sure which I shall give.

The thing is, I often need to vent. I have other profiles, like on myspace and bebo, but that's where my friends are. I can hardly bitch about how shitty some things/people are when they can just go ahead and read them. And I can't obsess about the stupid thigns I love, and admit to my own weirdness in their company. Mostly because it worries them. Or it's slightly embarassing. ANd I can't just talk to myself all the time, I forget what I'm saying. That's why I write stuf down here. As if I'm talking to someone, or a whole lot of someones. It's as if I'm still talking tomyself, but then again it's not. You see? Perhaps not. But that's OK. Because you, my friend, are not even real. You see now? Aha. Or was that a no? That's OK too I guess.


Oh one last thing. Wrestling. It may be fake, but that's no reason to dis it. People don't go around saying movies are crappy because they're not real. Only when the wrestling is really crap and they don't sell the move right, should you attack it. Otherwise just leave it alone.

This is my first, and possibly last, attempt at penning a sonnet. We're studying sonnets in class, and this was supposed to "help us further our understanding of sonneteering". Stupid, I know. Perhaps if I had a more positive attitude towards it, I may have done better. Or perhaps I'm just not a particularly poetic person. The latter is more likely.

Burying, deep, thoughts of an age so old
Incinerate the hell inside my head
Darkening inferno burns what you said
In hate; my trust, my youth, my life you sold
Abhorrent rage blazed through your eyes and told
Of lust, pride and wrath. Through screaming tears plead
I, though futile. Searing pain: you laughed, I bled
Red and white. Fear, not power is what you hold.
At fault , I am, and blame is held. This wall
In my mind, blocked, it swells, never to die
Reduced to ashes, I’m not free at all
From your hate, your hurt, your eternal lie.
Never will they admit your fall from grace
They’ll place the falsities upon my face.


It's OK if you don't get it. Lots of people didn't. I'm not even sure the teacher did. Fair enough, I got lost in the point too. It had a few different meanings, and it ended with none. Bah. How horrid. I know it's wrong, but I couldn't be bothered asking for help, and I left it too late anyway. I tried to think of how you're supposed to do it, but that was the best I could do.

I wonder how weird it is to be horny after bad poetry. Meh. Ah well.

This morning was so super freakishly crappy. Mother woke me up to say Mr DP just called and I had to go into his office during form time. Shit. It could not be a good thing. Then she gave me another disappointed look. The same one she gave me last night. Perhaps some background would be nice? 
Well, on friday I was caught with alcohol in my bag. Absinthe to be specific. This fugly kid Corey told. They took my bottle of absinthe, it still had a decent amount in it.
Well it was sunday night and I knew I was gonna get called in this morning, so I had to tell her some time. She didn't yell. That kinda scared me. She just sat there, and eventually was brought to tears, at which point I swear I felt myself dying inside.

So Mr DP, he was surprisingly nice. He looked disappointed too, even though we've never met before. But he knows the mother...... so yeah. That sucked.

Oh and then there's Mrs Luke. The counsellor. Of course she had to call me in just after I had seen Mr DP, so I ended up missing my entire english period. Don't really mind so much, I'm not the biggest fan of essays. Apparently there was some big issue in the english department about the story I wrote for the Creative Writing Assessment. It was supposed to be a memory, true or fiction, and mine was about a kid who is remembering the first time they cut themselves. And at the end they're dying, obviously suicide. It was obviously fiction, considering the main and only character is a boy, and I, as proven, am not. Apparently this isn't appropriate for teenagers. The counsellor had a lot to say. Or thought I did. So I went in and talked. Mostly about Emos, Peter Steele and my ability to recognise triggers and controls. She tried to make me talk about other things, but I didn't feel like it. He was very pushy about the cuts. She always says "Can I see them?" and for some reason I never say no. Perhaps I should. I only showed her my hand and wrist, adn that's because Mr DP saw them and asked her to talk to me about them. They're really quite pretty. I failed to show her my shoulder or legs for the latest. She didn't mention them, so nor did I. Especially since it might look a bit odd with shit like MUTILATE and UNFORGIVEN cut in. Meh, oh well.

Lat night was fun. I took some time to stop bleeding. Some long, blood filled time. It was gorgeous, blood all over my hands and arm and running down my leg. I don't care for the opinions of the school authorities, it looked and felt fantastic! 

Hmm. I had netball trials today. I hope I did well. Perhaps not, i was sick. Not from an illness, but when I get upset I tend to accidentally make myself sick. Not alwas like vomitting, but just I get allw eird and headachy. But meh......