The Party

The party was awesome...
besides Mule running away in angst and everyone scattering around mindlessly.

the end.

Just the other day as Kristen and I went to search for a book that I had turned in and accidentally left some papers in, not a moment after I had retrieved my belongings from the book had a Celtic book caught the curious eyes of my dear companion. I watched as she skimmed through it with interest when something had caught my attention, as well. On the spine of the cook read "Werewolves" which immediately made me take notice to it. 

[Werewolves are just one of my many strange passions.]

I skimmed through it, reading bits and pieces, my eyes gladly drowning within its words.

Without thinking twice, I found myself taking it to the checkout counter.

"I am definitely getting this." I said, caressing the book.

"As I am getting the Celtic book." Kristen replied.

I was far more than just simply excited to read this book, I was ecstatic, stoked, and completely overwhelmed with interest and wonderment.

The book is amazing. Apart from the fact that it talks about strange beings that once or still do terrorize earth, (werewolves being one of them, of course), it happens to have a few stories about serial killers and psychopathic maniacs whom came to believe that they were possessed with the power of a werewolf or that there were voices in their heads telling them to kill and devour human flesh. Besides that, it has some pieces talking about the making of horror movies and what-not, which, in all honesty, doesn't appeal to me quite as much as the rest of the book. 

Not a day later from whence I had gotten the book had I read up to 220 pages. I honestly wouldn't have guessed I were that far into it!! It seemed as though I were not even half way through it only to realized that I indeed was.

Anger Issues

Today, right after school ended, I had a sudden spurtz of raging anger. I don't quite understand why as there was really nothing to be angry about. Hmph... I truly do have issues, do I not? Well, the Lord will guide me. I just need to follow.

He's opened the door, and I just have to enter. . . or stumble in.

Either one is alright with me.

To kris, With Love

I made this picture for my dearest friend Kristen Lydia, who inspired me to start drawing again.
I had given up on it completely, but the reliable Lydia encouraged me to continue on with art.
She inspires me in many other ways than just one. She's the greatest, most intelligent, Caring and understanding friend one could ask for. I love her like a sister, and I pray we are best friends until the end of our time.

It Was A Beautiful Let Down

Today, my friend Kristen and I got caught unplugging the vending machines at school. . . well, truth-be-told, I got caught unplugging the vending machines at school. Luckily the one who caught me was my World History Honors teacher, Mrs. Raff, and not some other maniac teacher who would've most likely ripped my head off. Mrs. Raff is a very sweet and nice teacher and I really wish she weren't prego so she didn't have to leave so soon. . . BUT, moving on. . .
So she came up to Kristen and I and asked her for her name and yadda yadda and then said she would have to report us. SO, during class, (which i have her first), I decided to just ask if I could turn myself in to Mrs. Delio, the school AP. Mrs. Raff sent me down, I confessed, and then Mrs. Delio asked about my accomplice. WELL my plan was to get Kristen off the hook, but alas, I failed. So she asked me what her first and last name was and called her down as well. Kristen walks in, Mrs. Delio talks, thinks for about ten minutes, checked our records, sees we are clean and doing well in school, and decides to let us off easy with just two weeks of lunch detention.
Not bad, if I should say so myself, I mean. . . I would much rather prefer that over a referral.

Sick To My Stomach

Today, I feel strange. I feel sick to my stomach. . . shy and nervous, at times, and spontaneous bursts of feeling like I just want to scream at the top of my lungs and fall to my knees. I am angry. I am sad.

Last night, I couldn't breath. I just laid awake, on my side, trying to gasp for air, but I couldn't. My throat tightened up and it felt as though someone were choking the life out of me. My heart beat sped up and my mind was racing. I sat up, my eyes closed, allowing everything to consume me. Allowing the darkness to send me into the solitary confinement of my deepest, most hurtful thoughts and memories. 

It was all I could think about. . .

It left me gasping for air. 

Why do these memories haunt me? Why? They say time heals all wounds, but mine are still wide open; infected, and bothersome, still sending me into a seemingly never-ending void of depression and anger. . . hate and melancholy. I try not to think about it, I do. But it never works. Never does. It has not been too long since all of the trouble, but should I not be over this by now? Even these pills do not help when they are supposed to "make me think more clearly" and "help me control my depression", but it is doing nothing of the sort. 

What am I supposed to do?

I just don't know anymore. . . 

I need someone. . . someone who understands me. . . someone who actually cares. . .

| Bristles |

He's a porcupine.

(PLEASE; no copywriting. . . this is MY image and I would really appreciate it if you respected me and not copy it. Thanks. . .)