Guilty Pleasure

Oh! Lovely IT girl your a guilty pleasure of mine!

When you dance wine and roeses cloud my mind.

Your so sweet! Parading in the street.

Ah! So happy you seem, boundless and careless.

Like a chaged bird set free.

Oh! Edie!!! How I love you!

Its hard for me to think of you with out roeses and wine clouding up my mind.

Your eyes are all I ever see... and thats just fine with me.

In my deepest dreams of sin, the feeling of true scarlet love rushes over me as I touch you in my sleep.

Oh Edie.

How I long to touch you in reality.

To be the fool that makes you laugh.

To carese you fondly as the angels shigh about our love!

I know its strange these things we do for our guilty pleasures.

But can you not see how much your very strain of golden hair means to me?!

Oh my darling, life is so crule. For I know I can never be with you.... you would never pick me.

At lest I have you in my deepest fondest sinful sleeps...

My lovely guilty pleasure.

What I am

What I am is this. I'm a free sprited, morbid, cat-loving, dog hugging, bad speller, lover, fighter, writer, painter, anti-believer, thinker, crazy dreamer, anarchky screamer, messy-haired freak, tree hugger and a god damn dirty smelly good for tree hugging hippie. What are you?

Everytime

Everytime I look at you, my heart starts to brake.

Everytime I hear you, I curl my toes in affection

When I'm lost I look to you...

When its cold I think of you.

Everytime I see you laugh I feel torn up inside.

You cant notice me.

These feelings you cant see.

I dont want nobody else

Cause baby its you

Baby....

Mood: Depressed..... hurt and the strongest feeling of love you can imagen
Tunes: "Baby its you" The Beatles

-whimper- why do we dream sweet things? They only leave me in pain.... oh I love him so

Hariley Quinn! just a pic i drew.

Death and his bride.

Info: The main charater is myself.. this was a dream I had


She walked slowly. Very very slowly. The grass alight by the moon seemed not to stir. She sighed. Her dress was white. She had flower petals clustered in her hair. They were red, white and black. The girl was lost. The woods around her were filled with eerie tall thin trees. Fog gathered around her feet as she walked. She had no shoes. The lady did not remember anything. Who she was… all she know is that she was alive. Alive… She shook her head. A rustle came from near by. She spun around. Crows and Ravens flew from the darkness into the moonlight as if to warn. She shivered. The girl grew dizzy. She walked on ward. The moon never seemed to move. She liked this. The night was the only time one is free…. Or that’s how she saw it. Suddenly, She stepped on something…cold. She leapt back and her lips parted in a gasp. She dare not look. The fog was to thick now to tell what was what on the ground anyway. She began to go. Something quick and cold like a needle almost grabbed her bare ankle. The scream tried to escape but failed. The thing rose up and shown to be a corpse. “Art thou’ not dead!?” replied the lady. “Though should be dead! Thou’ is….. Thou is death!!” She pained. “Shhh shhh. I will not harm thee. For I only ask one thing of you….” “And what might that be, good sir?” “I ask for a bride!” he began letting go of her ankle. “A bride!? Sir! You are a corpse ment to be among thy dead and I am among thy living! Love is out of the question!” She stated. She felt the nervous edge to her voice. She knew she had seen him before…. He had haunted her sweetly but she dare not think of it. “Please!” he began “Thou art finer than I have seen and in death you see many fine things! You know me and I know you deep down you know… You cannot forget this?” “I…..I…I can not.” she admitted now looking ahead. He rose. “I beg of thee… thou love me.. I know ye. Thy does! Thy must….” Her voice seemed to be robbed from her. He went on. “I have fashioned you a necklace of the brightest moonstone and a crown of black roses.” “A crown? Art thou’ a king!?” “AH! No. Thou art my beloved.” He said with a thin smile on his pale face. “I beg of thee once more! In death it is always night!! You are free! You can speak with ravens and know all the knowledge thou can know in death! You-” “Can you love in death?” He sighed. “Death is the purest form of love my dear.” he said. “I am afraid to be buried…” She said. “I wont let thy be touched by the living!” promised the corpse. “Oh..” she turned to him. “I love thee! I will be thy bride in thy own and we can truly be together!” She cried. He knelt on one knee. “Fairest lady of thy living…” He kissed her hand, then rose. He place the crown of flowers on her head then the necklace around her neck. He kissed her face. “Are we wedded?” She whispered. “No… but soon my love.” he said. “How will I die?” she asked. He produced a dagger. She gasped. “The pain will be grate but I will heal.” he said. She walked closer. He took her in his arms and he kissed her lips softly. She shivered, then gasped loudly. She trembled. Pulling away she grasped the dagger in her dress… and lo! Rubies dripped from her. She fell into the arms of the corpse. Then softly she fell into a gentle kiss and then the sweet cradle of night.

WHY!!

Mood: In love......despratly
Tunes: "Just Like Heaven" The Cure

I WISH ROBERT SMITH KNEW I WAS ALIVE!!!! -sob- <3 <3 <3 He's so amazing.....

The Week(and End)

Mood: -shigh- Mondays over at lest
Tunes: "Vampires of New York" Marcy Playground

So, It seems to me that Mondays and Tuesdays are THE worst days and I stress THE WORST, of the week... for me anyway. Mondays are well... Mondays. You just know they suck most of the time, there isnt really a reason WHY but they do. And (this might just be personal prefrence of what sucks) Tuesdays kind of suck because I always feel like in a rut. Stuck. And theres NOTHING to do on Tuesdays. It's all like "YAY! Homework done. Now what? A: Sit on the computer. B: Go outside...?? (psssssht no. And do what? Walk to one end of a boring suberb and back? Right.) C. Same thing as Monday (AKA chocie A.) Yup! Sounds like I want something to do plan." Wensdays are okay because I get out early from School and everything seems chill. Kind of like... "Ok. Its Wenday. Thats Cool." Thursdays can go either way. They usualy end up feeling like a Wensday for me. And friday? Well I dont really feel the need to explain Friday. Saterday is good depending on which house I am at its differnt. (My Parents are split you see..) Sunday is just sunday.

But thats how I see the week. Well.... bacisily it goes like this....

Mon: -Groan-
Tues: -Groan-
Wens: Okay. Its cool.
Thurs: A. -Groan- I want to sleep.... OR B. Its cool.
Friday: HUZZAH!!!!!!!!!!!
Sat: Shweeeeeeeeeet
Sun: Eh. Sunday

Angel of Death (for Ian Curtis)

Why do you look at me this way?

Why cant I look away?

Why do I walk closer....

and you dont run away.

I feel something...

down inside.

Why do i rise to see you, to feel you?

Fear and courrage.

Your lips are black, like your hair.

Kiss me now, angel of death.

Kiss me now and take me to the end

Hold me close...

Dont let me walk away.

I fear love has gripped me now...

getting darker now.

Yet I am not afraid.

Take me to the world of better

Never let me go.

Now we can always be...

I have feelings for you

Robert.

Tunes: "To Wish Impossible Things" The Cure
Mood: Depressed, longing.

I feel so lost... empty. I miss Robert (he is the ghoust that protects me from something) I have sadly fallen in love.... Sometimes I catch myself dreaming of what might have been. If he were alive or if I were dead. I will tell you about him.

He is tall and skinny. Also pale. (Well... YOU know...) His hair is dark black and crazy. Like Robert Smith hair. His eyes are blackish-grey. He dresses in black from head to toe as well. He has a necklace. It's a round moonstone. Inside of the cirlce stone is an outline of a bird of somekind. He has a doll with a stiched mouth, its white with black button eyes. He has it with him sometimes. He dosnt talk much also. He has grate wings like a raven. I miss him so much. He watches me when I sleep sometimes... I wish I could hug him... I love him so much. -shigh- death is a crule and romantic thing.

Fancy English Wits!

By Shawna and Margaret.

M: Oh how is the picture going
S: It is going rather well! I think you will much enjoy it.
M: Did you read the periodical last week?
S: I sure did... rather, very thougorly.
M: Well what did you find?
S: I am drawing nothing of consiqunce! You shall see when I am done.
M: Very Well.
M: I quite forgot what I was doing.
S: Well did you? That can quite happen alot. You see, I put it back to the stupidness for todays socitiy.
S: A mirmaid bar opend last week!
M: A BAR FOR MERMAIDS!
S: Anway,My husband rather likes it. He met a lady.
M: Oh no! Sandle!
S: Indeed. He said he had no interest in her. But I quite disagree. Anyway he came home drunk.
M: Oh my
S: Quite.
M: For I am not married! It is most unfashionable these days.
S: That is a shame
M: I take my men in abroad
S: Abroad could be anywhere!
M: Perferibly in Paris.
S: That would be nice.
S: He was drunk years ago. I quite for get the name of the place... he met a man
M: Is the name important?
S: I can not remeber it.
M: Oh my
M: How trivial.
S: I told him dont be such a prick.
M: So unfashonible these days being married.
S: Then he said My eye ball was on fire then he fell back asleep so I went back to bed.
M: It seems married life is just strange questions and sleeping.
S: Yes. Hmm he is quite a gentlemen, except when he's drunk but that only happens very couple of years.
M: Well! I wanted a romantic scandle between you and your husband.
S: Well, a triangle happend years ago..
M: Do tell!
S: We went to a grand tea room. He said he was meeting this other woman. He said he had a son. I then slapped him.
M: OH MY!
S: It couldnt be his child. When the woman saw him she said it couldnt be him! So we left all for the better.
M; Do you know of any music of wich we could carry on a conversation?
S: Hmm coldplay.
M: Why?
S: It is very English.
M: I dont think so at all.
S: Really? Well they are enlgish arnt they?
M: Well yes but you cant really carry on a conversation.
S: Hm. Well then.... it seems that you should pick the music if your so critial.
M: CRITICAL! WELL I NEVER!
S: -shigh- everyones a critic.