love like you've never been hurt

:: 2004 29 March :: 4.10pm
:: Music: le tigre

ok so here's a dream to wonder about.
i wake up to the radio and it's around the time that they have a short news clip, and in it they mentioned documents stolen from some govt. place... and while alseep i knew that it was the radio but i started dreaming about the covenant stealing it, then i was sydney (i'm talking about alias obviously) and vaughn's wife had done it and i was trying to tell him it was her (cause i/sydney loves him and all and wanted him) but he didn't want to believe me... then i woke up.

:: 2004 28 March :: 2.07am

Name: Fayer

Nickname: your mom

Age: 16

What music are you listening to: Deftones- Deathblow

What book(s) are you currently reading? 1984

If there was one animal you could keep as a pet, what would it be? panther

What were you last Halloween? grounded

What was the last thing you ate? eggs

What is the background on your computer? Kakashi copy ninja

Last play you went to see: Misery

Was it a musical? no

Give us a quote: �lisping angels are outcast at once, and that is why I am so silent� �madison garths

A random song lyric: �do what you want to do� �beatles

If there was any instrument you could play, what would it be? bass

What do you think of racists? Same thing I think of your mom

What languages can you speak? English, Arabic, French

What languages do you want to speak? Bulgarian and japanese

What are you wearing? School uniform

Hair color? Red-brown-black

Eye color? Dark brown

What did you do this past weekend? Lived at andy�s house, went to my daddy�s house. I ahd fun at andy�s house, we went to kast and the trackmeet, but that was it. I haven�t been sleeping much and I�ve bad feelings in my heart that the world is going to end

:: 2004 28 March :: 1.30am
:: Mood: the mood of a failure

i failed
ugh i have an F in physics. UGH I HAVE AN F IN PHYSICS! wtf, after all my work and slaving, after all those nights i didnt sleep and workin working with people and i dont know what and all that work, all that time, all that effort and for WHAT? a 58%. scrw this, i'm so tired. i dont want to go to school anymore, i dont want to do this anymore, i dont need this aggravation, this emulaiton, this pretend that i care because i dont. what am i doing with my life? why would i get a degree in engineering if i'm gonna drop it and become something else later? so that i can tell people "i have a degree in engineering"? fuck this, seriously, it's brought me so low, i dont even know where i am anymore. it's like, the entire time i'm working, i might as well have been playing. it's just like the dream. it's exactly like the dream. i hate this feeling of worthlesness it's all because of a teacher. i told my mother i had a premonition yesterday. i ahven't had one since i was a little girl, but i had one last night and the night before and the night before and so back for weeks. i told her i felt like something bad was going to happen ,and there was nothing i could do to stop it. it made me sick, because if its one hting i can't bear, it's this feeling of helplessness. i need to be in control of my life, and i can't believe i've lost that grip because of fucking physics class. i'll never get my scholarship at this rate, or get out of this sick sick place. i need to be free. i need to leave all this behind. who cares about school? why should i bust my ass to go to military school? my mother already has so many strings attatched to AUD to get me in, it's like a puppet. thats how much she wants me to go to where she wants to go. she confessed to me last night, she wants to get retirement when i graduate and move to emirates to teach at the university there. i'd still get my own dorm room, and have my own accomodations, which would give me the illusion of independence, but there you ahve it. it's already been done. i am already accepted in AUD. i dont know how, i dont know who my mother knows tehre, but i know thats true. thats it, my future's been settled. and i'm here, hating myself for failing physics. fuck this system of dependence and shackles.

:: 2004 27 March :: 9.00am

fire
awaiting here, alight and ablaze
it's like the spark of a thousand years
per chance it changes who we are
per hap i can be better
if it would only ignite
start a beautiful flame
and all boundries would be lost
and the differences forgotten
it's all that separates the warmth after the cold from the fire after the fire
it burns the skin and singes my bones
but it's not enough, before was too cold
i need more, more sparks
brighten the night and forget the sun
make it stronger, let it be fierce
let it charr the memory of the cold
and it's lost, the meaning of warmth
and the virtue of heat
and all the beautiful things that happen when the weather is just right
because it's over
and after so much cold, i forgot what it was like
i need more heat to warm this chill
to stop the shivers
to make the ice melt and the frost puddle
but it's not enough
i need more
the ice still hurts
my fingertips are still blue
my tears still frozen in my eyes
melt it all, make it go away
let the whole world see
may they realize
it's not over, not even close
because all that heat is nothing to all that cold
and i hate the cold, i despise its wind
i loathe with a passion its rains
i need more sun, i want more heat
i pray for more fire, to melt it away
and with my own fire i'll fight the storm
the bilzzard that's stirred my life
the snow that's overlapping my home, i fight it with all that's mine
fire, all that's mine, fire
i need it to burn, untill all the hair is gone
when the skin has melted like chocolate on your tongue
when all that's left is ash
when it is warm, like embers, and you can touch it to be comforted
when i am a source of warmth long after i am gone
then i will abate this flame
but untill then, untill that time
when all the cold is gone, and it's a beautiful summer day
i'll burn myself alive

:: 2004 27 March :: 8.38am

Past
You are the most rarest find. You are the
shapeshifter. Have a bubbly personality? Thats
what i thought. You shape from the Yeti to a
fairy to a person of the mist to the person in
my math class. You can have a temper and can be
mislead easily.

What kind of element fey are you? (PRETTY PICS)
brought to you by Quizilla

Magister Mundi sum!
"I am the Master of the Universe!"
You are full of yourself, but you're so cool you
probably deserve to be. Rock on.

Which Weird Latin Phrase Are You?
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Industrial rock! Just like Marilyn Manson, you
know what you have to say and you just say it!
I like you very much...just be careful you
don't scare me away...

What genre of rock are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
twisted
You have a twisted soul! Twisted Souls are never
bad, and actually, are a rarity amongst souls.
These souls are a little combination of
everything, with always a little of their own
chaos to add. Twisted Souls are kind, loving,
weird, zany, temperamental, and very talented.
They have their own firm opinion, and can at
one time be very outspoken and passionate, and
the other time shy and feeling insignificant.
Twisted Souls have good senses of Humor and
other times can be a bore. You can act quite
intelligent at one time, and grasp concepts
easily, while other times they can find it
difficult to understand. Twisted Souls are
always very fun and Kind, and can be party
animals. But, if you love someone, youre
serious about it, intense, and forever loyal.
Congratulations-the world should have more like
you.

What Kind of SOUL do you posses? (For Girls only) Incredible Anime Pictures!
brought to you by Quizilla

3 Critics | Criticize

:: 2004 26 March :: 7.54pm

watch it, like, now.

3 Critics | Criticize

:: 2004 23 March :: 7.48am
:: Mood: groggy
:: Music: the epoxies

send $1 to this man:

Andy
Woohu.com
P.O. Box 10
Cedar Springs, MI 49319

pass this along and make a difference :o) and a big thanks to andy too.

:: 2004 22 March :: 8.50am
:: Mood: tired, sedated, whatever
:: Music: deftones - good morning beautiful

answers
I wonder about humankind, and where it will end up. Sometimes I go to a place in my head where I know all the answers, and I can ask al the questions. Perhaps it is society that prohibits me from asking these questions in the true world, but perhaps it�s only me. I like to blame society, for, after all, who willingly blames themselves for such a trivial fault? Not to mention, although I may view it as my personal fault, society views it as a virtue. Some questions are simply not meant to be asked, and others simply not meant to be answered.
While many of these questions I ask in my head retain no personal relevance to my life, I find myself asking more and more of them. I ask what would have happened if Hitler had died at birth, and if our officials today could build a time machine, would they have gone back and prohibited the birth, avoided possibly the second world war altogether? An obvious answer would be yes, but I wonder about the obvious sometimes. It�s not that I question what is given and handed me, but I sometimes question the faith and eagerness with which we all confirm to being good and pure at heart.
A possibility which led me to question that all-knowing voice in my head and ask: am I good and pure at heart? The fortune teller in my mind shook her head sadly. No, she answered, no you are not. You try to be good, and wish you were pure at heart, but you are not. It�s not a flaw in character, but it was what separates you from the animals. Instincts of the animals tell them to be good, to only kill to eat, only hurt to protect, but human instincts are different. I accepted this answer without question, and display no shame in repeating the answer dozens of times over to anyone who will trouble themselves to listen and many who will not. Another character flaw.
However, one burning question, one unanswered inquiry that plagued me throughout the past several years of my life, I asked this fortune-teller in my mind. I asked, �Am I going to die?� She, in response, smiled and said Naturally. Quickly realizing my mistake I corrected it: �Am I going to die young?� Once again, the wise face fell and she looked sad. There will come a time when new discoveries and new experiments of western medicine will excite a great deal of hope in your soul. Things will begin to get better, but then they will get worse. The wisest of doctors will sigh and, defeated, tell you that there is no longer hope. You, too, shall lose hope. The time of your death will come, and it will go, but you shall not die. I carry that answer with me wherever I go now. Perchance this will all occur soon, within this next year, possibly it will stretch over the next decade. I do not know. I did not ask. I merely accepted the answer as handed to me and, through sheer luck, granted.
It�s a foggy room, through a door I have often seen in my wake yet never entered. The walls are draped in thick and light tapestries. More rugs are thrown on the floors than should have been allowed, and overlap one another mercilessly so that the patterns and designs of each is impossible to distinguish form the next. There is a fireplace in the back left corner, and a round table in the center with two chairs at it. Over the table is a lantern, casting the brightest light in the room. Candles and incants are thick, but the smell doesn�t choke you. In fact, it�s almost like there is a breeze in the room, to keep it airy and comfortable to breathe.
At the round table, the center of which is occupied by a crystal ball which has collected dust for lack of use, is seated one person, always the same person. She is deceased. Why my subconscious has chosen her as my fortune-teller, I do not know. She cries a great deal. For the first few visits, I asked her why she cried. No matter what her facial expressions, tears always ran down her rosy, healthy cheeks, unfamiliar for in her life they had been stricken and threateningly slender. Every time I asked her what caused her grief she laughed, the tears still streaming down her face, and waved away my remarks as though they were a joke. So I stopped asking.
Sometimes, I cry with her. I had never seen her cry during the course of the three years I was acquainted with her. However, this great weakness I saw in her when she was a part of my � what can only be described as- lucid dreams shook my core and rattled my heart. I cried with her often, and sometimes, I ceased to ask the questions I so desperately wanted the answers to so that I may hold her and she hold me and we may cry with one another. I wake up from these dreams my bed sheets moist with genuine tears. Crying with her was the first time I had cried in my sleep. Oh how I felt relieved. I was grieving, my wounds still raw and fresh, and I was relived to see that I was not numb with the pain, that I still felt it. I suffered, and I knew it now when I had doubted it before. I breathed a sigh of relief; I was recovering.

:: 2004 22 March :: 8.14am

I feel heavily sedated. Oh I�m not mind-numb or anything of the sort, no I�m totally aware and conscious. But my body feels like it�s not mine. It�s interesting. It made me happy at first. Then I started to cry. I�ve pictured myself being a lot of places. Not all of them were good. I�ve pictured myself in the gutter, on the streets, lying in a hospital bed, cast out of my own home, helpless on my back in a dark alley. I�ve pictured myself in a lot of places. But I never pictured myself here. I mean here. Here, where genius is disregarded for the sake of blood. Here where just by being born a woman I have forfeited every right granted to man. Here where I cannot escape, yet I cannot stay. It�s scary. I didn�t think my ambitions and dreams would crumble while I�m this sedated. It�s like it�s not happening to me, like it�s someone else. Someone who looks like me, someone who sounds like me, someone who lives like me, but it can�t be me. It just can�t be me who�s going to end up here. I don�t want to believe it. after my doctors appointments and treatments, I asked my mother for a favor: take me to the ministry of higher education, let me ask them what it takes to leave. A delightful woman talked to us. She said things, a lot of things. She said there were no scholarships for political science, especially for women. She said even if I did get a scholarship, got my degree, my country wouldn�t give me a job, not in politics anyway. I told her I would go to the United Nations. She laughed. In the end, she happily advised me to major in either web design, or accounting. I cried. My effort, my life, my dreams, my ambitions, all my plans for the future, and she told me to take a dead end job where I would remain, a dark room with a tiny window, going over the money rich men spend, figuring out if they would be able to afford a new helicopter or not, or making websites for a living, advertising the very evil I loathe. I cried. The car ride home my mother lectured me on weakness. She said with a personality like mine, a weak sniveling little girl like me would never amount to anything. She told me I had to grow up, act my age, stop pretending life is roses and sunshine. The more she lectured the more I cried. I didn�t cry because I was weak or sad, I cried because I was angry. Every other word she reminded me that even if I got an exceptional major and studied it, there was no chance I was living and working abroad. This is my country, this is my home, I was supposed to serve it. I cried. My home doesn�t want me, my country doesn�t want me, yet I still have to stay, pretend I care, work to make the man more money. I didn�t say anything the entire way home. It seemed like an awfully long ride. I�m not weak. I�m just angry. I wanted to yell and scream, ask my mother was she blind? Shake her and drive it through her head, it wasn�t about who I was, it was about who I wanted to be. I don�t want to be rich, I don�t want to be average, I don�t want to die and know the only people that will ever know my name are the people that knew me personally. What about the world? I wanted to ask. What about the rest of the world, they�ll never know me they�ll never hear me speak they�ll never see me smile for them. I�ll live, and I�ll become rich, I will most probably not marry nor bear children, but I will die, and leave the world just as I came into it. I wouldn�t have meant a thing. My existence would be a number, a social security card, a pile of discarded clothes. I never thought I would end up here. When did it happen?

WhitePony

:: 2004 22 March :: 9.35pm
:: Music: Before The Storm - Hold Your Tongue

Hold Your Tongue

Treatment for the loss of so many years
Unprepared caught at our weakest point
Still you judge me
Prepare for the broken alliance
And by the way I depend on you for everything

(Just between us, you never had it in you)

Your lust shined through/you don�t know how to appreciate what you�ve been given/so I�ll give it back to you.
Make this yours.

(I�m making this become a piece of you)

What you saw was just the beginning
You should have given it more time and held your tongue

(I�m making this)

It�s disgusting to see you give up everything just to buy the easy way out
I think we found your clone
Pledge to the same feeling that as the ones that hate you give out just to fit in

(I�m making this become a piece of you, a piece of you)

It�s self respect I�ve applied to the antidote that you call your life and I�ve shown restraint to the love that I can feel again.

(I�m making this become a piece of you)

Prepare for the broken alliance and by the way, I depend on you for everything.

- JJ Navarro

:: 2004 20 March :: 8.44pm
:: Mood: crafty

death cab for cutie - wait
every town has a diner
where i'll meet you
and your friends too
things are just a bit nicer
over some coffee
you can tell me
all about your day
i don't know much about you
not that i want to
not that i want to
sometimes i can't escape from my room so excuse me
i'll be just a little late
you will wait for me
you will wait for me
every town has a corner
where i'll see you
and your friends too
hang out looking cool
saying the same things
over and over again
sometimes we all feel stupid
we say the wrong things
you're not the only one
sometimes we all get left behind
in a race of style
it's a dumb thing
you will wait for me
you will wait for me
you will wait for me
you will wait for me

:: 2004 20 March :: 5.46pm
:: Mood: okay

redid my journal theme. not only cause i get oh-so-bored of them really fast and i don't care if anyone notices but me... and i absolutely love the new thursday video.
tomorrow is my last day of spring break (or really yesterday was, but don't ruin it for me) and i spent the whole time doing things i wanted to do. what a crazy idea huh?
and if you can't tell, i've been quite happy, especially the last few months. it's nice :o)
well, off to do... i dunno, i think i'm going to target with my dad. ta!

3 Critics | Criticize

:: 2004 20 March :: 5.06am

your mom. and THEN. AC's mom. and THEN GOLDFISH'S MOM! end.

:: 2004 17 March :: 1.15am

happy st. patty's.
and very more importantly, happy birthday to billy corgan!