|
BleedingCrescent
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Silhouette Country: United States State: New York Metro: Queens Gender: Female
Interests: [Christ.the.lover.of.my.soul] [music . [core-hard.metal.emo] [punk-ska.rock.] [hardrock] ] [guitar] [keys] [drums] [singing] [screaming] [drawing] [acting] [writing] [daydreaming] [photography] [rain] [glass] [roses] [barbed.wire]
12 Stones
Abandon
Anberlin
As I Lay Dying*
Becoming The Archetype*
Blindside
Chevelle
Coheed And Cambria
Day of Fire
Breaking Benjamin*
Dead Poetic*
Demon Hunter*
Disciple*
Emery*
Five Iron Frenzy*-RIP
FM Static*
Goo Goo Dolls*
Gorillaz
Haste The Day*
House Of Heroes
I Am Ghost
Jars of Clay*
Jennifer Knapp
Kids In The Way
Kronicles
Kutless
Last Tuesday*
Lifehouse*
Lacuna Coil
MeWithoutYou
Nickelback
Nirvana-RIP Kurt
Norma Jean
O C Supertones
P O D
Pillar
Project 86*
Rebecca St James
Red
Rise Against
Roper
Skillet*
Spoken*
Staple-RIP
System Of A Down
Thousand Foot Krutch*
Third Day*
Three Days Grace
UnderOATH*
Virgin Black
The White Stripes Expertise: [[ expressing . [beauty] [happiness sorrow] [life death] [love hate] [spirits humanity] [light darkness] . through . poetry ]] [[ loving . and . comforting . the . [broken] [confused] [frightened] [lost] [weary] . souls ]]
Message: message meEmail: email me Website: visit my website AIM: ThisMorbidBeauty Yahoo: BleedingCrescent
Member Since:
8/26/2004
|
|
| I feel myself stepping out from behind the curtains. Smiling because I've known all along. I take one last bow because the truth has finally come out: It really was all my rotting fault all along. I can no longer label myself "victim." I can no longer "get away with that." Apparently no one cares. Time to pick up the pieces, move on, and half-heartedly hope that I remain alone for the rest of my life.
I was born a flame. Somehow I became an icicle.
I wish I could say all the horrible things floating through my head. I wish I could curse out humanity. Can't always get what you want. Thinking I could is what got me into this mess. Whatever. Whatever. Whatever. | | |
| Spring Break. Just until Sunday. SO much has happened. Good stuff, though. Saturday I saw Demon Hunter (and Oh, Constantine, Steps to Bedlam, and another band whose name I forget right now) which, of course, was awesome. David enjoyed it... kinda... Well I mean he enjoyed the acoustic set... Not so much the heavier stuff... which involved moshing... I didn't let him get hurt, though. Cuz I'm a good big sister. Sunday I saw all my New Lifers which was awesome as well. Hung out with teh biffle along with his new pals... Which was pretty awesome. Monday was awesome cuz... wait what happened on monday... Oh yeah, I saw teh biffle's a capella group perform at Bayside. Which was AMAZING. And I got to see all mah little Bayside baybehs... And I got to show my boss/friend around Queens. Yesterday was AWESOME cuz I got to hang out with one of the most AWESOME dudes I know. Plaid Lad. That's right. Plaid Lad and Hardcore Chick reunited. -.- And we went shopping. And I got awesome shirts, an awesome scarf, and awesome aviators. Today was awesome cuz I saw Coraline with David and my college friend, Stephanie. And I went to choir practice at New Life. Which, too, was (get ready for this) awesome.
... And now I'm tired. And I'm going to attempt to do this project tonight.
Which will turn out to be...
...
Awesome.
... Now replace every "awesome" with the word "elementary" and see what you get. And let me know. Cuz I haven't done it yet.
Goodnight. | | |
| A girl finishes her essay at around 2 AM. She feels pretty good about it... It's not what it's supposed to be, but considering that it's due later on in the day... It'll have to do. She climbs into her loft exhausted. And although she's kind of angry that her best friend didn't call her that day... She's relatively content.
And then... 3:33 AM. She wakes up to excruciating pain. She groans. Her hand involuntarily shoots to the side of her head... Wet. She then notices she's on the floor. She must have fallen. Wait... Wet? The screen of her laptop is lit up and she uses the light to examine the substance on her hand... Blood... Blood?? "Oh, sh*t..." It's 3:33 AM. Who will help her? She calls the people she trusts the most... The people that would help her through this traumatic event... It's 3:36 AM... Who's awake? No one. She winces. Pain. In her head. And now her back? She checks... "Aw.. sh*t..." Huge bruise on her back. Huge. Nothing she can do about that... She has to stop the bleeding. She grabs paper towel after paper towel in attempt to soak up the blood before it dries in her hair... Somehow she gets back into her loft... Somehow she drifts back into sleep... She's awoken twice by the phone. Her mother is calling. The sun is coming up. She's half asleep when she answers... She vaguely remembers asking her mother why she was awake... Then remembers her mother's insomnia... She falls back asleep. Her land line now rings. She doesn't bother to climb down and answer. Her father. She falls asleep as she listens to his sweet message. She's moved by his care.
8:45 AM. She doesn't bother getting up and going to class. 9:50 AM. She gets out of bed and makes a quick call to her father... She showers... Gets the blood out of her hair... Her head is still oozing. 10:50 AM. "I'm late..." And she has to print out her essay... She power walks to the building her class takes place in... Thankfully there's a computer lab with printers... 11 AM. She finally printed her paper... Walks into class... Gets through class thinking her head has stopped excreting... Towards the end of class, she pushes her hair aside... And notices translucent, red liquid on her fingertips... 12:15 PM. She goes to visit her boss and tells her of her night... Her boss drags her to the health center. She still hasn't eaten. They can't stitch her up... They can't do anything about her bruises... But they clean the wound and send her on her way. She finally gets out of the health center... Loses track of time. Gets something to eat. Things are going great. She walks her boss back to her office... Checks her voicemails... University police? What do they want? They want her to go to their office... She goes... They close the door. Two officers. They question her. There was a robbery... She was a suspect. She leaves after a half an hour of being accused of something she didn't do... She's tired. She's drained. She calls her mother... And cries. She just cries. She gets to her dorm... Turns on the tv... Matt Damon and Greg Kinnear. As she's watching she feels better... Then sees a commercial about a boy named Alex... Thirteen years old... His parents both died... His grandfather, senile... He takes care of his little brothers. Thirteen. "Oh... God..." Suddenly, she's not important. Suddenly, she's not sure she even exists. This boy... This young boy... He exists... In a world of pain... He feeds his brothers... Nothing is ever left for himself... He exists. He lives. Barely... But he does... What is she doing? Every day, asking God why she's alive... When she should be thanking him... She says a prayer for the boy... She cries for him... Suddenly... Things are put into perspective for her... Somewhat... She still feels a little sorry for herself... But tries to push her emotions away as she walks to her friend's birthday dinner... And she smiles... She laughs... Really. Through her pain Through the trauma... She learns to smile. She has to.
| | |
| TWILIGHT MUST DIE.
... Just thought you should know X]
:: sigh :: another late night. trying to write a paper. half way done, but was interrupted by someone wanting to say goodbye on AIM... not that it's their fault... i just lost my momentum...
And now I slowly feel my eyelids becoming heavier... Ah, but Demon Hunter is aiding my state of wakefulness. I must persist. I must finish this paper... Which is coming along quite nicely, actually...
I should post it one of these days...
ANEHSHVAY... (anyway...)
That final day will fall And those who curse the sky will face the earth The many turn to one The God of Gods’ own righteous son Begging for that second birth -Demon Hunter. | | |
| Poison to Roses. That's what I named my essay for my English final. I think it went pretty well. So it's 5 AM in the morning. And I'm drowning in a pool of confusion and sympathy and warmth. Warmth. What? How? I confuse myself... I'm pretty sure I confuse most of the people around me... I think... I need to just... Fall into His embrace again... Maybe things will make sense. I'm an overanalyzer. That is definitely not a good thing. I've been thinking about this ordeal way too much... It's definitely been taking its toll on me. Ah, me. Night. | | |
|