.........how i hate viruses.....
Do you dream and still think that your life is just a dream? Sometimes you pinch yourself but still feel the pain in both worlds, and it wouldnt be a confirmation that its not real. In a way, both worlds are reality if you believe in it much. Sometimes you'll feel the spin or a whipsplash of wirlwind and you;ll fall in abyss of enternity. Sometimes you;ll fly through the clouds, light as a feather. Sometimes you would dream that your house is flooding, overflowing with fear. The world of paradox. The movie THE CELL strike the same type of similary. This mental guy is diseased, and he has a world of his own in his mind. A prison in his mind, full of torture and woe. I loved that part, but the rest of the movie sucked.
why is it that when I try and look at other people's profiles by clicking on who's new, then clicking on view thier profile i allways just see my own?
if this happens to other people or if it doesn't please tell me cus i'm confused
Bridget Jone's Diary- the forgotten paragraph
I'm furious now. For the first time I really feel like I hate this place. I feel thae hate that I've had for every other school I've been to running through my vains. I hate the lonliness and I hate the people behind it and tommorow, I'm gonna hate not having a job.
Forty minute ago I found out that the shift schedualing for my camous job happened today. I was gone all day at a workshop and though I knew it was comming up, since the last two shift meeting were on sundays and I hadn't gotten an email about it, I'd be okay. I wasn't there isn't a single shift left that I can take. In other words, I'm fucked.
Red Streaks running under my invisible breasts
Looks like I missed my lips when using lip liner
Ribs sticking out like wanna be tits
You would think I was an anorexic bitch
My stomach is a plushy dome
All White and milky
Craters for breasts and Peaks for a belly
Half of me is obese and the rest is non existent
Carve me mold me
Make me pretty
The dance floor is my second home.
Yes, I'm new at this. I don't know exactly what to do here! I read a few ppls blogs, and it seemed like a journal. If I have the wrong idea about this, PLEASE let me know. Until I hear something, I'm not going to post anything else! hehe! Thank you in advance!
Yes, I have returned to Oasis, much to the chagrin of the general public! And yes, my constant, manic updates will persist until someone shoots me through the heart with a silver bullet. Anything new with me? Not really. I'm doing forensics, and having a FABULOUS time! I'm in play acting, and we're doing quite well thus far. A lot of queers in the whole forensics expirience! The high point so far is seeing a pink haired lesbian perform selected scenes from "Twelfth Night" by Shakespear. Also, why are there so many gay plays that are cut into dreadfully done, depressing forensics pieces? Ok, for those of you who are unaquainted with forensics, it's speaking/acting/presenting/etc in competitive form. Basically, it's sports for dorks and assorted theater geeks. Now I am so tired, and I may be going to a party/gathering later in the evening. No worries:)
I've been visiting this website for a while, but was always afraid to post or to actully join the community. And when the site crashed (broke, whatever...) I was almost relieved, because that meant I couldnt sneak on my computer to read the stuff all of you have written. Because it meant I didn't have to "come out" because it meant i was alone yet again, and that maybe just maybe I could keep lying to myself for a few more days....
I woke today around 9:30 in the morning and continued to lay in my bed in a quasi-unconscious type of sleep, the kind where you are just happy to be, free of any distractions, worries, cares. At around 10:30 i decided that i was awake, but not wanting to get out of bed, i turned on my radio. The song had just ended and the dj had cut in.
"This doesn't look like a deliberate act of terrorism..," eyes wide open, ears pricked....
How do you start something about this?
I woke up to the radio announcing the deaths of 7 people.
I think I have to start bluntly, there is no smooth transition to something like this. People were working together; men, women, white people, and black people. They were on their way home on a routine flight.