.Behind the Scenes.
I've tried hard to mend my wicked ways.
[.The Make-up Chair.
Is anybody listening?
Check? Check? 1. 2. 3.
I have something to say.
Totally unaware? If I'm on AIM the little yellow man will show up next to the link signifying that I've entered stage right.
I am a 22 year old graduate from the University of Georgia. I'm attending the University of Tennessee for Pharmacy school in the fall.
I act like a 13 year old. I'm obnoxious, loud, silly,... weird. I'm spoiled, selfish, manipulative, and duplicitous. All by no fault of my own. I was just built this way. I am not to be trusted. I prey on those weaker than I and I feed off those that are stronger. I strongly believe in parasitism for my own "collective" benefit.
I do care what you think about me, however I know that I can't change so the effects of voicing an opinion is futile. What you think or want to say is something I probably already know.
The oddity of it all
I'm stuck in the 80's and I'm moving back to the 20's.
I am not pretty.
I am not witty.
I am not going to inflate your ego or kiss your ass.
I do deserve every ounce of attention I get good or bad.
I will own my mistakes. You own yours.
I love rain boots.
I used to role-play, but don't anymore. Most of the people really suck and they're really not going anywehere with their lives.I still hang out in some RP chats to talk to old friends, though! Maybe I'll play again when I'm 40 and my life has dulled again.
I seem to start drama without doing much at all. I'm am not a self-proclaimed Drama Queen, but one by right.
I love myself on Wednesdays and Saturdays.I'm black on Tuesdays, white on Mondays and Asian on Fridays. Got that written down?
.For the Audience.
Add me. Don't ask. I may or may not add you back.
Don't steal my pictures. I'll be forced to remove your virtual pubic hair with elictrical tweasers.
If you'd like to use one of my pictures, ask, please. I'll let you do it.
This journal is not where you should express hate. Make a community for that shit.
You are more than welcome to kiss my black ass.
Don't IM me asking me stupid ass questions or to tell me that I'm pretty. Further more, don't expect me to be talkative. I'm usually busy.
I accept love in all packages. *heart-pop*
If you suspect that you are becoming slightly obsessive with me (I don't see why you would anyway), please endulge yourself.
Think I'm mean and cruel? Hold your fucking breath.
Everybody wants to be a mystery. Everybody wants to be beautiful. Everybody wants to be artistically flawed and painted by rare colors of emotion.
We all want to be unique and different. We all are screaming
and begging for attention. We feed off each other's fears and prowl on comparative weaknesses. We won't follow the crowd and jump off the same bridge. Oh no. In order to conserve our individuality
we'll each pick seperate suicides to indulge ourselves in.
There's no way we can possibly be like each other, because we are undefined, rebellious, wild, eccentric, and intellegent. We are each a fine drawing were every brush stroke falls on a cluttered canvas at different pressures and speeds. We all think that with the right lighting our exhibit will inspire.
Could it possibly happen that we are all more alike then we'd like to think? That in our strive to wander away from the collective group of "weirdos" that we've formed our own fundemental identity? Just for a second, realize that we are more alike that you could have ever really imagined. Even though the making of our portraits of reality
may be created by differnt devices, from a distance we all look the same. A scattered mosaic of wonder.
So when you look in the mirror, you're looking at me
. I am
a product of the environment I choose to interact in, therefore I am you. When you smile for a picture, I am there. When you cower in a corner of shame, I'm hovering right next to you. When you think that you've finally defined who you are, I can garuntee that I'm just like you.
Just like everybody, I'm striving to be a completely novel social specimen. In my attempt to do so, I'm a lucid reflection of the people around me. My flaws are of the same substance that dawb my face with expression which flow like little creeks into an ocean of community. I would like to say that I am me
and there is nobody like me
, but that would be a lie.
We all represent a circle in a giant portrait of overlapping rings whith shaded regions of uncertainty and independance. We all make a gorgeous mess of a portrait.