glasscasehearts's Journal

A week later, and it's still hard to think that I won't see him tomorrow when I walk into school.

I just reread that sentence and it sounds like he's dead. He's not. I talked to him this morning, he really needs to stop telling me he misses me. Shut up. Just shut up.
 
School starts again tomorrow and I'm going to have to deal with all the stupid annoying people younger than me, and older than me and I have to start to talk to my "friends" again. I was perfectly fine with having three friends over this exam break, holly him & hanna. H H H. Honestly, those are the only friends I talked too. SHIT I DONT WANT TO GO BACK. Can I please just kick them all in the shins and spit in their precious hair and expensive bags and yell at them TAKE THAT BITCH but I don't think I'd be full of friends after that, because I want to kick a lot of people. I don't know if that's healthy or not, BUT I AM DRINKING GREEN TEA. Seriously. Not like you care or anything.

Two days ago I was walking towards the community mail box down the street and across the road, when some kid, he srsly looked eleven, walked up to me all like HEY MISS, D'YOU WANT A JOINT? And I was like Hey midget, shouldn't you be playing with your lego? And he sneered in my face, it was like Fan-Fic Draco Malfoy worthy and shoves the joint into my hand. So I squished the top of it my hand and tossed the ashes? onto his bright blonde head and he screamed like the little boy he was and ran away. Maybe you shouldn't shove drugs into my hand, 'cause I was trying to be nice to you. Little jerk.

My hair is so soft, it feels like a baby's bum. Honestly, my hands just run through it and it's SOFTY SOFT and I smile because WOW IT'S SO SOFT. I'll stop saying soft now. Soft.

I'm trying to write something decent, honestly I am. Nothing's coming out though. I told my friend a story the other day, and obviously it was fake and made-up, and she knew that and it just spun off my tongue. It was the best story ever, it had princesses and knights and nights and dragons and elves and death and happiness. It was honestly amazing. But when I tried to write it out NOTHING CAME BECAUSE I HAVE NO CLUE WHY.

I wish I had money. I wish I could walk into a shoe store, and just buy a pair of red pumps. I think they would look good with my skinny black jeans and bright red shirt, don't you think?
 
"Death's got an invisibility cloak?" interupped Harry.
"Yeah," said Ron. "It's when he get's tired of running at people, flapping his arms and shrieking...sorry Hermione."

page. 331, hp7.

I think that's the right page number. Anyways, it's one of the funniest things ever. I'm rereading it for the fourth time, and it still makes me laugh.

I like answers. So I'm going to ask you questions, and you're going to answer them. Please, please? My black leggings are collecting dust on my shaking leg, and my too-short for liking hair is full of mousse and it's in a high, messy bun, and my blue teeshirt has i love you ohmygod i hate those words on it, except is really only has i love you on it, but you shouldn't know that.

My green tea tastes like blood, and the blood I just sucked off of my cut finger tastes like green tea, there are orange green tea flecks sitting on the five on the number pad 5 there they go, onto my finger then onto the space bar and now they're gone, into the air into the dust. Be honest and don't lie, I'm the best liar and I would tell you any lie to keep you listening. Don't tell me you like everything about me, I know you don't.

; what do you like about me?

; what don't you like about me?

; pick/find a song lyric that describes me & tell me why.

; why do you think i'm the way i am?

; why am i REALLY asking these questions?

; what's going to happen to me on thursday, when i go back to school?

; what do you think is the ideal way to die?

; do you want to die?

; liar or faker?

; lips or ears?

; pear spray or boy spray?


Don't like, and don't answer nicely. Be honest, do you know what honest is - sometimes i dont! - and please do this for me, it kind of means a lot.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Like, does drama follow me around everywhere I go? We're on the fucking internet hunny. Not face to face combat. But, because I love Alice, I'll drop it. Only because of Alice.

Because if I met you in person, I'd -oh how I hate people butting into my business.


Moving on, because everything's sorted out.

Boy = fine.
Us = not yet,

But I'm getting there.


This is laaaaaaaaaaaaaaame.

Livejournal is alot better
please find me on there because i love you and i love alice and carly and shannon and life (at times) and chocolate and oh my god, I need Green Tea Flavoured water.


I love this avater.
Yummy Johnny Depp, yummy Edward Scissorhands.



I spelled scissor wrong, didn't I?

I need you to need me, oh, loser loser.

Yes. I'm ripping off of Alice's winner winner.


Yell at me in my cbox, I'm used to it.

He's single. He's single. He's single. He's single. He's single. He's single. He's single. He's single. He's single.

Or at least, that's what I gather. I haven't seen him since...Friday afternoon, or something.

But from his msn name & shit, I can tell he's single. Or in a huge fight with his girlfriend. Ahahaha.

Go Kayla.

I'm at school, and I have to hurry.

Just thought I'd tell you. Might update later (my homepage, no story). Whatever.

I need some new icons....


Just leave your name & number, and I will holler at ya.

I went to the football game after school. Boys suck, yeah? Yeah. No no no. Not that boy I like, the boy from years back. He goes to another school, the school which was playing mine today.

Shit?

He's the star player aswell. Him and the boy I like are friends. Awkwarddd?

Well, because the old boy, found out I liked him in grade seven, and he ceased all interactions with me. Three years later, he smiles and says hi to me.

What the fuck?

I just looked at him. I was like "hi?" It was so unbelievably awkward.

Anyway. Onto cool boy now.

Lunch was amazing. And it smelt gooood. Hahahaha. Maybe because I was attached to him at all times? HE had his arm around me. He totally instigated it too.

He likes hugged the life out of people. And un-tensing my shoulders. That doesn't make sense. Stfu.

He's actually one of the best friends I could ever have. He wants to hang out soon.

When? Where? He has no idea.

Whatever.

He tucked my bangs behind my ears today. They were like WOOOOSH in the wind, on my face. He was like *tucks behind ears*"Now I can see your eyes." 

I died.

And missed what he said next.

Something about how pretty they were. But yeah. I went to heaven and came back grinning.

The football team lost their game. But the other school is known for the sport program, so it wasn't really a shock.

I feel...weird. Unusual. Not sad...Happy?

That's it.

I've felt uncontroably happy for the last..two weeks? Yeah. I have mentally crossed fingers, hoping for the best (just hoping nothing happens)

Anyways, onto other, boyish news, he asked if I need a ride to his football game. I declined. I had too. I couldn't go anyways. But still. He offered to drive me. Or, well, ask his mom if she could drive us, cause we're too young to drive.

Third bottle of green tea-d water. It's so effing amazing.

"Kayla. Are you still drinking that stupid tea?"
"Oh my god! Just fucking try it. It's so fucking good."
"It's that -fucking- good? ;)"
"Shut the fuck up."
"You should learn new words :)"
"fuck you!....shut up!"
":D"

I'm obviously the fucker.

Ajajajajjajajaja.

....

That was supposed to say,

ahahhahahah.

There we go.

This journal is so effing pointless, I have no idea why I'm writing it. I guess because I'm home alone, and I'm very pathetic?

OMIGOD. I'm talking to my best friend I haven't talked to in months. He transferred schools, and I'm like WAAAAA. :(   But I'm talking to him, and we're all like I MISS YOU TOO. And shit. And he's on the football team, and we're definetly seeing each other when they play my school. Screw my current bestfriend/more-than-that-not-really boy SPACE friend. I really want to see this guy. Well. I can tell you his real name, since I don't have a crush on him. His name is Devon. :) And the boy I really reallyx'sinfinity like, is C-. Ahaha. Thought I was going to tell you?

Long-ass paragraph.

I've taken about...fifty pictures of me & my friends today. I have too much fun with them. They're actually my life. No joke. My life. I think you get the point.

I love Shannon. And Carly. They complete my life. So does that boy. And Devon & all my other amazing kids. Ahaha.

Good mood anyone?

<3
 I LOVE THE BACKSTREET BOYS.
the old BSB though.

   



(7:41 PM) '              с:why does it matter to u so much what other ppl think?
(7:42 PM) ' kayla.:thats just the kind of person i am.
(7:42 PM) '              с:u cant go through life living like that
(7:43 PM) ' kayla.:im aware.
(7:43 PM) '              с:cause not eveyrone is gone liek u or think u look good and if u go through life thinking liek that ur always gonna be self consience
(7:44 PM) ' kayla.:its just really hard. ive grown up with people telling me i wasnt pretty enough, or i wasnt pretty at all. and suddenly random people ive never met tell me im gorgeous? its really confusing / bothering me for some unknown reason.
(7:47 PM) '              с:then dont listen to the negativeand if ur still confused dont listen to either. kayla, i dont get why what other ppl say is so important, what u think about ur self is what u should go by
(7:47 PM) ' kayla.:the thing is [insert name here] i dont get it either! im messed up. 
(7:51 PM) '              с:if u dont get it then block it all out
(7:51 PM) ' kayla.:but then ill become emotionless. or..thats what i think ill become. 
(7:56 PM) '              с:no u wont, if u block out what ppl think. u'll be happy the marjority of the time

----

Okay. So, I'm the purple, he's the black. This is a sample of our many conversatons. I'm confused and he knocks some logic into me. He's the one I go to for all my problems. He...he makes sense. He knows me, and my brain, sometimes more than I do. I love him.

There's more, but it was too much editing on his grammar, aha, and some stuff I don't want to push into the WorldWideWeb. 

"i love u, and ill talk to u at lunch."
"deal. <3 iloveyoutoo."
" :) see you tmmrw. feel better kay."
"ill try.(L)."
"(L) (L)" 

 

Yesterday I breathed with my heart. It beated, I lived. It was surreal. I had so much happiness pulsing around inside of me. But then I was shot down like a pigeon during hunting season. This random, heartless kid decided to be an ass to my best friend, so I had to stick up for her. And then, this random kid starts insulting me. I lasted about seventy-five minutes. Which, if I do say so myself, is pretty damn good.

But naturally I leased my flames of fury at him. And he stopped. Hah. But, ultimately, his stupidness made me fall into a bad mood, UNTIL.

dun dun dun.

I was at my locker, all like...moodyish. And I was sitting on the ground, shoving books into my bag, and I stood up, grabbed my lock and like slammed locker shut. It was so effing loud. Baha. Anyway, suddenly, I felt this hand on my waist/stomach-

HALT!
I should tell you, that He does that. Whenever we pass in the hallway, he always taps my stomach, or lets his hand linger on my waist. It's just his thing of saying HI. IM HERE AND IM SAYING HI. And I always grab his hand, and since he usually is walking past me, we hold hands until we can't grasp each others' anymore. It's actually amazingly sweet.
UN-HALT...

I felt this hand on my waist/stomach, and I jumped, cause it was from behind, and I had NO idea how was touching me. Obviously it was the boy I'm in love with. I should name him. He can be...Brandon. Since that's not his name.

And he was all like, -spins kayla to face him and proceeds to have a conversation with her.-

B. "Be happy!"
K. "Why?. >_<"
B. "Because when you're happy, I'm happy."
K. "Oh."
B. -hugs- I'll see you tomorrow?"
K. "Obviously."
B. "'kay, I'm out. I'll talk to you tonight though." -hugs-
K. "Deal."

But yeah. And a bunch of other stuff happened, but I'm lazy.

And today...well, today was just great. He's being so...so...amazing? Not even as more than a friend. He's one my bestfriend's, and he just knows how to make me happy.

And from now, until I say so, I'm only talking about him as a best friend.

When I'm in a pissy mood, he can always make me smile. He says the things that people are afraid to say to me. But he gets away with it, because he knows almost everything about me. The only thing he doesn't know is that I like him. Convienient, eh?

He might come over tonight. I'm not sure. He said maybe after his football game. He said he'd call me. I'm home alone, and I take the portable phone everywhere. I'm always to lazy to get up and get it. I'm so pathetic.

Five water bottles litter the space around me. A notebook with Part Three of Silhouettes sits next to me. An empty plate, my camera, Herbal Essences Travelling Shampoo, Baby Powder, and seven pencils are on my desk. This list is taped to the wall behind my desk.

Metro Top FIVE: most irritating emo-rockers:
1. Pete Wentz, Fall Out Boy.
2. All of Panic! At The Disco.
3. Adam Lazzara, Taking Back Sunday.
4. Gerard Way, my Chemical Romance.
5. Davey Havok, AFI.
Brian Towie/Metro Toronto.

It actually made me laugh so much. (Metro is a community newspaper) But everytime I read it, I crack up.

"Stop and breath, it was just an awful dream. A nightmare, a night scare. Nothing to worry about.

So wrap your hands around this pen, I'll show you what it is to live."

Lawyers - The Audition.

I'm in love with that song.
Gah.
I'm in love with a boy, who, rumor has it, has a thing for me?

I think I died and came back to life, just to laugh some more. He has a girlfriend he does NOT have a thing for me. Baha. The rumors at my school crack me up. Tomorrow's Saturday. Then there's Sunday. And then Monday.

At my school, our weeks change. Week One goes Per. 1,2,LUNCH,3,4. And Week Two goes Per.2,1,LUNCH,4,3. This week was Week One, but I definetly like Week Two better. I see Brandon more, and I finish my day better. It all works out perfectly.

I'm off to go take some more pictures of myself. Or write something. Probably both, seeing as I'm probably the most boredest (word?) kid in the world right now.

"Would it be forward of me to say, you'll be the best I'll (n)ever have?"
Pete Wentz, the most irritating emo-rocker according too Brian Towie.

<3

 

Ballroom dancing to Smack That, to eating the crumbs of an old Aero bar. What have we become? What will we become? Secret messages, secret lies. Aren't all lies supposed to be secret?

He bit my arm, and it felt good. He lifted up my shirt and I didn't flinch. What's happened to me? I lie for him, he lies for me. Why do we do this? What are we? An open baby powder bottle was knocked over in the agression. It's yet to be cleaned up. 

Lunch tomorrow? What will happen. "Just us two. I'll pay." But you have a girlfriend, oh gorgeous one. You love her, do you not? Why are you taking me out for lunch? Why did you not take no for an answer. D'you know something that I should?

You'll never read this, so I don't understand why I even ask you these pointless questions.

My lies are consuming me, my lies are overtaking me. I mumbled into your chest and you whispered into my forgiving ears. "I don't want to lose you."

How the fuck would you have lost me? I'm never letting go. My grip will tighten, never slack. If you noticed, I involuntarily hugged you tighter.

I really need to get a life, and stop complaining about you.

That Aero bar made me sick. Did you poision me? With what?

You just said hi to me. Go away, I don't need your help.

(him)  says:
what do you need help with? you know im here.
'   kayla.              [help me, save me.] says:
oh, hah. its a lyirc.

I lie to you, I know. It's the first one in a while.

'   kayla.              as you wish. says:
there :]  you have no idea how many people asked me that.
(him)  says:
we care about you. i care about you.

Stop it. Just stop it. 

the fear has stolen her heart as she wakes from her dream
treacherous ink finds her lungs, seizing her screams
numb hands now reach too late to take back the light

Save me from myself.

On my keyboard you can see which keys I use alot, and which ones I don't. It looks like I've never used the Scroll Lock, Pause/Break or Insert keys. All the letter keys are used, the number pad is used, 'cause thats where I use my numbers. The top numbers are used because of the emoticons on MSN. And the SHIFT button is SPARKLING clean. I'm all like WTF YOU STUPID KEYBOARD?! YOU'RE MULTI-DIRTIED!

Worst beginning paragraph ever. I have no idea what that paragraph was about. I fail.

The Boy pops up wherever I go. I went to the movies Friday night, and he was there -with three sluts mind you- and I had a longish conversation with him. He kissed me on the cheek, I recoiled. His lips were so close to mine. Just ever so slightly to the right. 

I loved everything about you that hurts,
So let me see your moves,
Let me see your moves,
Lips pressed this close to mine,
True Blue, but the prince of any failing empire knows that,
I've already given up on myself twice
Third time is the charm,
Third time is the charm
[GINASFS - Fall Out Boy]

Everything bold is true. Pretty much, yeah. I've given up on love twice, so it can count as myself.

So, as of right now, I've decided to hunt down Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, tie him down to my bed, and demand to know why he knows everything about my life.
And then after he answers me, or doesn't, I'll let Shannon have her way with him.

MentalNote#1: Remember to bring Patrick along when I take Wentz.

 

               Cross my heart, and hope to die.
            [rip, Tom Marvolo Riddle, who could've done right in the world.]

So I was talking to this kid I used to go to school with today, and somehow he was brought into the conversation. The OLD him. Who I have no feelings for. FOR SERIOUS! I have no idea how though. I certainly did not bring him up. Well, before I dive right into his, let's just say his name is the same of the main male in my old story [my old account]. Hm. Almost all [everybody but Shannon] hasn't read that, so he can be Fred. In memory of Frederick W. Stfu if you don't know who that is. I kid, I kid.

Here's some background information : Fred and I were close friends, I started to like him, someone blabbed their big flappy mouth and he found out. He called me once over the summer of '06 and we talked for over four hours. End background information.
OH WAIT!

I forgot the most important part! I was talking to him one day on msn, & he told me the reason he didn't like me the way I liked him, was because I -get ready- wasn't pretty enough. [observe picture of girl above. I'm not THAT hideous, amIi?] Stab my heart, why don't you.

Anyway, today I was talking to Mike [who I call Michael, 'cause that's his name] and Fred somehow came up. Okay, whatever. I'm fine with it.

Michael : Have you talked to -insert real name here- lately?
Kayla : Not really, actually. I've kind of distanced myself from him. [oops! let me tell you that Michael goes to a different school than both me & Fred. I don't go to school with Fred, thank God.]
Michael : Why?
Kayla : Just 'cause.
Michael : Okay, whatever.
-awkward silence-
Kayla : Gay babies.
Michael : What?
Kayla : Nevermind.
Michael : Hey guess what?!
Kayla : Whaaa ? -is feeling epileptic from loud noises around me-
Michael : Fred shaved his head off! All off!
Kayla : WHAT?!

Okay, so Fred has...or had, really nice hair. It was blonde, medium lengthed, and curly at the bottoms, it was so cute. So now, Michael goes & tells me that he SHAVES HIS HEAD?!

What DRUGS is this kid on ?! If almost ALL the girls you go/went to school with, love to touch & play with your hair, WOULD YOU NOT KEEP IT?! To have a better chance "with the ladies" ?

Fool.

I'm not happy with myself.
I want to change.
I need a change.
He's helping me.
Yes, we're talking about the current He.
No, not God, sorry.
THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPEL'S YOU!
Did I spell Christ right?
I don't think so.
Fuck, I'm going to hell.

Find Your Graduating Class!
DAMNIT! I've already ranted about this ad.
Shit.

"Today is gonna be the day, that they're gonna throw it back to you."

He said that I should change my hair, and from the first day make a slighty new personality for myself. But he says, and I quote "I like you the way you are. You're the perfect girl."
THEN WHY DON'T YOU LIKE ME?!
Fucker. [or, fuck-her. bahaha.]

Kayla : How was your day? :)
Him : Crapppppppp haahaa.
Kayla : Aw, what happened?
Him : Nothinggggg. That's why!
Kayla : Bahahaha.

We have too many hilariously stupidly pointless conversations.
And the funny ones that turn into deep meanings? Observe.

Him : What's good in -insert town name here- tonight?
Kayla : I don't think anything good goes down in -insert name again-
Him : I learned to make the best of something as long as I'm supposed to.
Kayla :  =| that was pretty deep -insert name-
Him : Lol, I'm serious.
Kayla : So I am. I'm totally not being sarcastic.
Him : Oh wow. Kayla not being sarcastic?! 
Kayla : Fuck you.
Him : Please.
Kayla : Hahaha, stfu.
Him : But yeah, thanks.
Kayla : Anytime.

I love him.

Ack! I said it.
And this is where my life turns to dust.

"Somehow, everything's gonna fall, right into place, if we only had a way, to make it all fall faster everyday."

first picture = the BEST line in a video, EVER.
second picture = baaaaaaaaaaaabe. fuckkkkker. *melts*
third picture= hi! im kayla & i LOVE YOU.

I'm only scared to death, because of what might happen if he finds out I like him. It's like a fucking death wish.

I'm typing up my new story. Yay me. Wow. Glancing at the side of the screen, to read the day's MY JOURNAL PAGE advertisment says : "Find the perfect boyfriend....or steal someone else's!"

Now, this is why most of the young teenagers of our generation, who live around me are whores! They're boyfriend-stealers! BACK OFF CHILDREN! BACK OFF PATRICK! HE DOES NOT APPRECIATE CHILDREN LIKE YOURSELVES. Or slightly over-obsessed girls like myself. STFU.

"The Hook-up. THE N's-insert random palm here- Hit Game. Play Now. It's FREE!"
and completly stupid.

Bah.
Can Quizilla advertisment managers NOT find anyone good? Like, affiliate with something worth doing.
Fucking advertisment managers.

"Word on the street is that the fire inside your heart is out."
You must be so cold, so very cold.

"Cause maybe. You're gonna be the one that saves me."
Yes, please. My soul needs saving. Are you willing?

Anyway. I saw him today. I almost cried. But I didn't. Thank God. Anyways, I was with one of his ex-girlfriends. He grinned when he saw me, waved, cause he was on a bike, nodded and yelled 'chill soon!'. I nodded back. Stupid Kayla. He only half-smiled at her.
Uh oh.
But she didn't care.
I hope.

I'm going out tonight with my parents & brother. Downtown. Yay. Until the early hours of the morning, when all the drunken bastards are stumbling around. And I have to navigate through them. Yeah, sounds like fun, right?

"Trade baby blues, for wide-eyed browns."
Woah. It's funny how your most recent ex-girlfriend had baby blue eyes. And my eyes are huge like a mutha-effer.

Creepy, yes.
A sign? No.

"I'm supposed to love you. *crazy guitar riff*"
Gay Is Not A Synonym For Shitty.
True that Pete. True that.
"True that baby boy. True that."

I'm making a collage of Patrick for my new room. A bunch of his fucking awesome hats, and his gorgeous face. And then I'm making a Fall Out Boy collage. STFU, I have no life.

"Cross my heart & hope to die."
But not until I meet Patrick.

I'm staring at my blank notebook. It's sitting to my left, my Winnie the Pooh pen placed precausiously on top of it. A bottle of baby powder sits before it, little wisps of powder popping out as I squeeze it. What's the point of this? No point.

He's talking to me. We haven't talked in days. He's ignored me the last week. So why are you talking to me now, oh gorgeous one? It's 10:17, I should be tired. I'm always tired now. But I'll get over it. I always do. The need to explain myself to him is in high demand, but I will refrain from doing so for a long while. He thinks I'll be there when he falls. But, knowing myself, and my brain, I will be there. Mind, body and soul. Because everything about me, is his. Even though he does not know that. I would rather him not know, thank you very much.

You're cold. Oh so cold. You're smile hides a secret I cannot place. You tell me everything. What secret are you hiding? Do you feel you need to hide it from me? I saw you today, you saw me. We talked, you complimented, we hugged. You kissed my cheek, something that surprised me. Have you missed me that much? We're only friends, remember. Nothing more love, nothing more.

You want me to come to the party on Sunday. Sadly, he invited me first. What could I have said to you? No, I don't like you? Or No, I don't want to go with you because I might have the urge to kiss you? Or my favourite, No, I hate you. Which one would you have rather me said. But no, I said Sorry, I'm busy. Which, in a sense, is true. I'm still not going. With you, or with him. Who has a party on a Sunday?

I have no idea who'll read this.
Comment this if you do.
I type to nobody, to show my inner feelings.

The Spider-Man action figure I was given years ago sits infront of my speakers. He's sitting on a purple sticky note pad. Get off that pad. She does not appreciated you sitting there. Because she knows I am lazy, and will not move you, so that means I can't use her. But I need to. I use sticky notes in my notebook of unwritten stories. Get off Spider-Man, get off.

Find Your Graduating Class.

What happens if I haven't graduated yet? Can you make something for me to click? I like to click ads that give my computer pop-ups. But Compy does not appreciate pop-ups. Oh well. Deal with it Compy.

The notebook beside me is still disgustingly empty and blank. The pen is in the same place. My ass hasn't moved from this chair. I'm beginning to think it's stuck.

It's dark down here. It's dark outside, so the window is doing nothing to help me. The light above me has blown out, and it was the only one that was on. The computer screen light is the only thing that keeps me from being notcurnal. Save me from this cave.

I sit atop the counter in my bathroom, and stratigcally apply my charcol eyeliner. The colour, charcol. I apply black to my bottom lid, and charocol to my top. Grabbing my trusty silver eyeliner, I rub the tip over the left hand pointer finger. Silver finger - check. I rub across my eyelid, creating a smokey effect. Yet, it looks stupid to me. Still, I rub some more on my left eye, then on my right. Why do I take so much time to get ready, for nothing?

I have moved back into my room, clutching my eyeliner in my fragile hands. I plop into my floor, infront of my full-length mirror. I plug in my hair dryer, clip my bangs infront of my face and brush my long hair out. As I brush my hair, I attempt to turn on my music. It's proving difficult. At last, my long hair is up in a high ponytail, secured by a light blue band. I unclip my bangs and comb the tangles out of them. How fast they get curly after a shower. I blow dry them until they are dry. And very frizzy. I sigh, and plug in my flat iron. I press ON, and wait sixty seconds for it too heat up. It's done. I pick it up and run it from the top of my head, to the end of my hair. Repeat times infinity.

When my bangs are straight enough, I take a moment to critize myself in my mirror. Ugly. Is what jumps out at me. I sigh. I grab my anti-frizz serum and squish it into my hand. It's very cold, and slimy. I apply ALOT of it to my bangs. Then straigten some more. I see steam coming off my hair. That's not a good sign, is it ?

My bangs are finally straight. I grab my black mascara, and apply it to my top lashes. Then my bottom. I do not care at the moment if I'm not supposed to apply them to my bottom lashes.

I finish doing everything, and stand up. I look at myself. I look at my ass. 'Do you think these leggings make my ass look small?' I ask myself, sarcastically. I fix my PUNKROCK top, and adorn my wrists with hairbands, and bracelettes.

I am done.

'Come on, cut your crap, get it on, kick it back.'

*

I realize, as I sit here, and impatiently brush back my bangs, that my life is turning into nothing.

But, I think, I shall talk about that another time.

'My-my-my, ei, ei, WOAH. My-my-my sharona!'

I sit at my computer desk, and stare at the clock in the bottom right hand corner. 10:32 it reads. I feel tired, I feel worn out. I feel used. I am used. My daddy asks me to upload the pictures from his camera, I bite back my respone. 'Why can't you?' I know too well not to talk back. Goodbye computer. The music from my homepage seeps into my ears, ruining my ear drums. Yes, we do have a big mess on our hands.

My character in a RolePlay story has just been heartbroken. It's ironic how my stories & characters revolve around my own life. Now she's talking to a boy she barely knows about all her problems. I realize that, that's what I do. Funny, yes?

William Beckette tells me that we have a big mess on our hands tonight. I try to tell him I do. But William doesn't listen. He keeps singing. Silly William. The big mess on our hands concerns a boy. Always works out that way, yeah?

I bit the end of my hair, that is in my face. Good thing I washed it, or it would taste like lake water. Or maybe that's good for you. You never know. My hair feels soft, and delicate. Almost like my soul. If I knew what that felt like.

I've just read the perfect metaphor. Or, what I think is a metaphor.

"Your heart is like a peach. The outside is soft and delicate and easily eaten away. But the inside, the seed, is hard and no bugs or knives can cut through it. Even if the peach's exterior is eaten away or it rots, the inside is still there. After a time if planted and watered and all that, it'll grow to be a peach tree. Your heart is like that, even though the outside is broken, the inside is still strong. Give it time and it'll heal and soon you'll be good as new."

I think about how perfect that is. It really is perfect. Props to Ariel for posting it on our RolePlay.

Now Gerard Way is telling me that he's not okay. Well, go eat a piece of cake. That makes everyone happy. Stupid Gerard.

......

Wow. It just came to my attention that Gerard Way, lead singer of My Chemical Romance, is engaged. Sorry to all those fans out there. Guess there will be new pairings for Gerard Way stories. Stories about how Gerard and his financeé are broken up, blah blah blah.

"I'm okay. Trust me. I'm not ok-ay. I'm not ok-ay. I'm not okay. I'm not okay. I'm not okay, yeah. I'm not o-fucking-kay. I'm not okay. I'm not okay. Kay-ay-ay."

Thanks Gerard, I've gotten the fucking point.

-K.