Sooooo.

I'm still on my cloud, as can be assumed. ::tehe:

We're going out on Saturday, to the movies. He's bringing a friend and I'm bringing three [I swear, my girls are such twits...], but yeah. I'm kinda nervous and really excited at the same time.

I told my parents this afternoon, because I wanted to tell them both at once so they didn't get pissy. They're really happy about it too, haha.

God.

And thankyou to everyone who's all happy for me. ♥♥

I said I'd keep you guys posted, and I'm sticking to my word.

We beat around the bush [that sounds so filthy, but it's not meant to... you know what i mean] for a while. Like, banter. ::XD:

But in the end, it all worked out.

This time it was a happy ending.

I have joined the ranks of the not-singles. And I'm really fucking happy, too.

So, he replied. The guy.

He said he'd thought about me a lot, and that he thinks I'm pretty awesome and stuff. And he bought Let The Right One In because I said it was a good book, haha.

Fuckfuckfuck.

I just... wow.

Last time I did this I totally fucked everything up and it was an epic fail but this time it's totally different. And maybe something's coming of it. Something... more than it has been before.

I'll keep you guys posted, of course.

So. Today has been... long.

I talked to her, she talked to my dad about Soundwave. I still don't know what's going on about it.

I also emailed that guy from the English enrichment day. The one who looked like Andreas, yeah. The one I could have had a decent conversation with that went for more than half a minute if it wasn't for a chick I knew in primary school hanging off me the whole time.

I emailed him, and I'm hoping I didn't sound like an idiot because last time I did something like that I did, and it wasn't a happy ending.

I'm hoping this time it is. I need... I don't even know what to call it. But I need something.

I am so fucking sick of everything. Absolutely fucking everything.

She is so fucking hypocritical. She tells me to be honest about everything, so I have been. She tells me to tell her things that maybe I don't fucking want to tell her, so I do. But does she return the favor? Of course not. I'm not allowed to know half the shit that goes on. I'm not allowed to know exactly what she's going through, because she doesn't want to tell me.

I didn't want to tell her about half of this shit. I didn't want to tell her that I'm in love with her. I didn't want to tell her that I started cutting again. I didn't want to tell her that she is the only person I've seriously considered having a romantic relationship with, the only person I've seriously considered losing my virginity to. But I fucking did, because she wanted me to.

And now that I want her to tell me stuff, ohnono. I can't know, I'm not allowed to know, she doesn't want me to know.

I don't care what she wants me to know or not anymore. I don't care if she thinks it'll hurt me, because I fucking know that's an excuse. If she didn't want to hurt me, she knows how to make it stop. But she won't. Because of her perfect fucking cunt of a boyfriend and her fucking stupid reputation she has to protect, especially now that she's vice captain. Because nobody would ever want a fucking dyke for a vice captain.

I am sick of her. I really really want to fucking hate her, but guess what! I FUCKING CAN'T. Why not? BECAUSE I LOVE HER TOO FUCKING MUCH.

She doesn't even care. She wants to live her perfect little life, with her boytoy and her vice captain badge and me out of the picture.

Yet, when I tell her I want to kill myself, she tells me I'm being a fucking idiot. I'm fucking sorry that I can't handle this bullshit anymore and that I am fucking losing it. I can't handle the fucking circles anymore. I can't handle the fact that when things maybe start to look up a little my thoughts go back to her and it just starts again. There's one way to stop the circles and she knows what that is.

I just sent her a PM asking her about a couple of Confessions posts, too. Because she doesn't want me to know what they mean, she doesn't want to go down that path again. I am still fucking on that path. I have been on that path for three fucking months at the very least. It makes no difference what they mean. My thighs still look like like god-knows-what. It makes no difference whether she tells me or not, because this fucking addiction has got me again and, like it was at one point last year, I can't sleep unless I bleed a little.

Not that she fucking cares.

In Journalism, again.

God.

I don't know why I'm posting, but I am. Dammit.

It's so... hard. Everything is so close yet so far and... fuck.

She's not even really paying any attention to... anything, haha. She's playing that helicopter game. And just asked me to make it work properly.

I said no.

God.

This... is killing me. Being this close and yet still totally unable to do anything. It's how it's been for what, three months now? But still.

I want to listen to the Heartkiller demo, but I can't.

It's so empty. Everything is so empty.

I was meant to meet her at recess, but I didn't. I forgot, I suppose - I was pretty preoccupied with Shay and the girls, we were talking about how we're apparently going to go to germany and get wasted at Oktoberfest. I forgot, and I felt like shit once I realised. I felt guilty.

She told me she waited, and I didn't turn up. I told her that's how it's been for me a thousand times.

It's so complicated, fuck.

Someone kill me.

Sadly I have not been drinking [though I am totally hanging for that vodka in the fridge], I just have the Beer Song stuck in my head. Which is quite odd.

I should have a new fic up in the next couple of days. It's nearly done, I'm hoping to finish it tonight while I watch / after I watch BloodRayne, which my darling-friend Shay lent me because I'm not meant to watch R rated movies. I've only seen the cover and the trailer, and to be honest it looks kinda B-grade, but the chick has nice tits. And there's vampires and a sex scene. XD

Yess.

But this new fic, I'm quite proud of it. Just because I'm so close to finishing it and I started it on Sunday. It's all gooooood. I won't post anything too give-away-ish, because it seems once I do that it takes me ages to actually write the fic [hence why Slaveboy is still only three pages long].

I feel like doing a meme. I don't know why, but I do. So I might go find something in a minute. :D

To be honest, I have no idea why this post is so happy and it's somewhat scaring me.

Anywho.

I'm hoping this BloodRayne movie's good, because I'll probably be a bit annoyed if my first R-rated movie sucks. Well, y'know. That wasn't meant to be a pun, either. My first MA-rated movie was The Sweetest Thing [or something like that], which I kinda wanna watch again but also don't. I was nine or ten when I watched it and there's this one part that is forever engraved in my skull. And that is when this chick's going down on a guy, but he has a piercing and gets stuck and ohlord. Then her friends come in and start getting her to hum like, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star or something to relax her throat and ohlord. XD

...I am rambling, I am well aware.

This post really had no point, I just wanted to point out the fact that the Beer Song is stuck in my head, that I want vodka, and that the chick in BloodRayne has nice tits. Oh, and the fic too. :D

What's your favourite colour and why?
Black. Because that's how I roll. ::file:

What's the strangest food you like?
Probably carrot sicks dipped in Nutella. It's surprisingly good.

What's your earliest childhood memory?
Uh, I'm not sure. Probably getting my Harry Potter cloak for my sixth [or seventh, I don't know] birthday. Before that, everything I know about is through pictures or stories from my grandma. My memory is terrible.

What's your favourite girly item (from make-up, cosmetics, accessiores, clothes, etc)?
My black glitter eyeliner [which is girly, thankyouverymuch]. I haven't work it much recently, but yeah. It cost me four dollars, I am proud.

What's your favourite flower?
Uh. I don't like flowers too much, but I guess I'll say a rose. Just for the pure romanticism that goes with them.

If you want questions, comment with lollipops. ::tehe:
niela_xxx gave me my questions, lolz.


OH AND!
HAPPY VILLE'S BIRTHDAY! :D

IT IS REALLY FUCKING HOT.
Just so you know.

ANYWAY.


I don't know how I am at the moment [except really fucking hot]. She's... confusing me [and if you know me or follow this LJ at all you know who I am referring to]. Like... yeah.

I told her I wouldn't mind being like Jonne and Kris were in a fic I wrote [which I should probably post on sweetndeceitful ] if she was willing. I told her I wouldn't mind having her for a tiny half-hour a day, or even less, if she was willing.

She said that it'd be cheating. Which it may very well be, yes [unless she tells him and he's agreeable... I am in no way a fan of polygamy but y'know...]. But then she says that next time she stays over, she is totally mine. And my question here is what the fuck. Which is a question I ask a lot.

I told her I can live off one night, too. I can just... rewind and playback and relive it just like I do with concerts. And... she didn't say anything. I have made it clear, by the way, that I don't necessarily want to fuck her [yet, that is... to be honest I'd rather we were in an actual relationship before that]. Just... y'know. Not fucking her. Not necessarily stuff that's even close to that. Not yet. I just... it sounds so childish and cliché chick-flicky but I just want to kiss her.

[Side note: I find this hard to say IRL too. Likely because of my mother.]

I'm so lame I even have this whole kinda-cinematic fantasy-type-thing, with her.

We go to Soundwave [which we are going to, btw... or at least we are at the moment - my parents have said if the stuff doesn't stop / therapy doesn't help I can't go with her or at all], and... yeah. We meet Ville, which ends with me having a total breakdown afterwards because I realise for a tiny little moment I had the two things, two people, that I truly do love next to me. And it goes on, as Soundwave no doubt will, and we stand in the mosh and watch HIM play. And they play Join Me [which is possibly my favorite song of all time for various reasons] and right... there's a particular part of the song, before the end. And it's... if you have the song, go to 2:52, you can hear the part I'm talking about at 2:53. And just as they're up to that part, just as they're playing that exact line, that exact part, I just turn around in this crowd of people and kiss her. And for that split second the world is perfect.

Goddamn. I really am just... wishing empty wishes, aren't I?

Fuck.

To give some backstory [because I haven't posted in a few days], here's what's gone down.

She [the Watermelon - I'm sure you know who I'm referring to by now] broke up with her boyfriend. Then, she told me to 'jump in the water', which is a metaphor we've been using recently that is really hard to explain. I, of course, being inexperienced, naive, and self conscious, didn't want to sound like a retard or do something that would fuck it up. I wanted to do it right. So I chickened out [more like succumbed to the sick butterflies in my stomach who were telling me to shut my trap or I'd puke].

The next morning, I asked her. Now, picture this - a crowded high school hallway, with two girls in the very middle of it. One is about to take a huge step, the other is about to shatter it all. The nervous one [which is me, in case it's not obvious] is insecure about almost everything in the situation, mostly the idea of asking another girl a question like this in a crowded place when she's scared shitless of her own sexuality.

In the end, she just takes a deep breath and asks. [My exact words were do you want to be together?, by the way.]

And the other just... says no. Well, not yet. Which is a no.

Then the insecure, inexperienced, nervous one is handed a 1225 [or something like that] fanfic, written by the other. And what she reads later absolutely shatters her. She knows how much she's royally fucked it all up, how selfish a bitch she is, and how much she really, truly deserves to die.

But as soon as she voiced that, she's... yelled at again.

Fast forward about a day [I was on a school trip so it was uneventful]. Talking on MSN to the girl who has incidentally become a messenger between the other two. The girl - the one with the now shattered heart, so to speak - is having a breakdown. The only reason she hasn't killed herself is indecisiveness - pills, razors, or a belt around the neck? Which music to be a deathly lullaby, as such?

An argument flares up and things are said that shouldn't be.

Another breakdown ensues, and right now suicide seems oh so painless compared to living.

This morning, I woke up and decided I needed to get help. Professional help. [Then I went back to sleep because it was quite early, but that is irrelevant.]

This morning, I came out to my parents. My dad was alright, but my mum walked out and wouldn't talk to me when I left for work. She sent me a text saying she doesn't hate me, and brought me a drink over before she went to work herself. I've specifically asked her not to tell my grandmother, people she works with, or anyone else for that matter.

I'm getting my head sorted out, then the world can find out I'm not straight.

I'm at school right now, with seven minutes until I go home.

I just... needed to post.

Some shit went down with... her today. And right now I hate myself more than I thought I could.

Apparently, I fuck everything up regardless. And then I give up.

But the worst part? She doesn't think I'm ready.

Christ.

If I wasn't ready, if I wasn't prepared to dive in headfirst into all the shit that goes on, then why am I doing the shit I'm doing? Why does my fucking arm look like it's been through a cheese grater? Why am I even... bothering?

I don't fucking know.

I'll post again later on.

There's a thread on Mibba where everyone's posting six word stories. It's all come from Hemingway, apparently - "For sale, baby shoes, never worn," or something. I don't know, dammit. But yes. I've been sitting there and kinda doing some out of boredom. And this would be the results.

Some of them are ambiguous, some probably make no sense, and some of them actually have mentioned names. They're kinda weird, but hey.



Eric sniffed, cheeks wet. Andreas left.

"Don't want to die," he whispered.

Biting tongue. Biting tongue. Shit, blood.

It looked so pretty in flames.

He dropped dead. Oh, how gorgeous.

His throat burned. The toilet flushed.

Tears stung his eyes; little needles.

The glitter's still in his hair.

Crying. Slicing. Bleeding. Screaming. Silence. Numb.

It tastes wrong. Tastes like failure.

He held his glasses like hands.

He chokes as red frames snap.

Inhale, exhale. In, out. Alive, dead.

I spent it on Marilyn Manson's book. Which is currently hiding under my pillow [along with Eat Me, Drink Me because I bought that too] because I'm scared they'll be put through a paper shredder / I'll be verbally impaled if my dad knows I bought them.

So now I have to wait another two weeks to get my Soundwave tickets. Which is irritating, but so far I've already read the first chapter of the book and it's all going good. And yes.

The whole reason I bought it was because I had to waste two hours or thereabouts at the mall by myself while my mum and grandmother went and watched the Michael Jackson movie. Which I have as much interest in as a ten-year-old boy has in Barbie And The Three Musketeers.

My feet hurt now, because I was just... walking around for two hours. I bought two singlets out of my mum's money, because I desperately needed them. I ended up changing in the mall bathroom because it was so fucking hot, then I wandered over to the library and spent a half hour or so reading books on rape. Not that they were any good. I was going to read 120 Days Of Sodom, but the stupid libraries here don't have it. They're all interconnected and I checked the database and ARGH.

Then I had to sit and wait in the cinema lobby for half an hour for my mum to come out so I could borrow ten bucks to get the MM book.

Christchristchristttt.

It's really hot right now. My grandma bought me shorts, because I'm going to die a flaming red death [literally] if I have to go through summer in tracksuit pants for school. And I have a hiking/bushwalking trip for science, because we're doing ecology and yeah. My science teacher likes me, I'm one of something like fifty kids in the entire year that gets to go.









Oh, and Halloween was awesome yesterday. I was Cat. :D

Because Halloween is on Saturday. ::weird:

I was going to go as a blood stained blonde, but then I dyed my hair. So I is gonna be a Cat Casino instead. ::con:

I WIN AT LIFE.

I still don't know what I'm doing for Halloween, if anything. Watermelon-Kat may be having a party, or going to one... and I might be able to go. If not, I'm stuck at my grandma's place. Which I don't want. Because that sucks. And I hate it.

GRAHAGHDF. yes.


I went shopping with Watermelon yesterday. Egads. I don't know. It was good, but at the same time it wasn't. I was grumpy anyway, so that probably didn't help. But still. It was... not right. Something wasn't right.

GODDAMN.

Eh. I bought myself new glitter eyeliner, so it turned out alright I suppose. And it's black glitter eyeliner now. So it's better than what I had before. And it's pretty. And quite... nommy. ::XD:

eh.

I guess I just wanted to post because my last post was a couple days back and I wanted to kill myself. So, uh. I am alive. jsyk.

:DDDDDDD

So.

Today sucked. A lot.

I don't know why I went to talk to her, but I did. I needed... closure or something.

Instead, it just... hurt more afterwards.

Some of the things she said... they weren't meant to hurt me, but they did. And I fucking hate myself now for not telling her before I did. Because I timed it all wrong. If I'd told her a week before - a week before - it would be different. It could be us.

But I waited. I sat on it and waited and pussy-footed around it and didn't tell her because I was a wuss. By the time she found out, she was already with him. And I couldn't be anything.

She told me that there have been times when she's felt... things for me. But she never told me because she was scared. And now she's got him and even though she does feel something she can't do anything about it because of him.

So I don't know what to do.

She's happy with him. I know she is. I'm not going to let her fuck that up. I'm not going to fuck it up for her. And that's what I said. I want her, I know that. I admit that. I didn't tell her, but she's... the first person I've seriously considered doing things with. And I hate that. I hate everything about my fucking head at the moment and what I feel. Sometimes I want to hate her so fucking much but I just can't do it.

She's thought about us. What it'd be like. She asked me what it would be like, and I told her I don't know because I don't dream about things that I know are never going to happen. She said she's written oneshots, drabbles, half a chaptered fic... all about what we could be. Could have been. My question is, if she thinks about it so much, why didn't she wait? Or ask? Or something?

I want to fucking scream.

I made a prompt table because I do need inspirations when I get bored. And it could be fun. :)

Most of them are paraphilias/fetishes because I'm just cool like that. :con:

So. If any one of them catches your eye, feel free to go "OHMAHGAHHH, YOU HAVE TO WRITE DIS WAHHHN. AND IT HAS TO GO LIKE THEEEEES." Because then I'll have something to do, lololol.


( the table are under hurr. :) )



OH AND!

IT BE BONE'S BIRTHDAY, SO I SHALL PICSPAM SOON WITH CONCERT PHOTOS. :D
because i hate to admit it, but my collection of Bone photos is pitiful. :(

I'm wrapped up in a blanket with my headphones on. Thankfully.

I've been sneezing all day, goddamnit. And I'm sick of it. And I'm close to tears, but not because I've been sneezing.

I was just... looking back through some of her posts. Seeing if she had any new ones - she hasn't posted anything since that PostSecret that she knows made me feel guilty.

I don't want to know what she's done, what she wants to do. I don't care if it's with her current boyfriend, or her ex, or some random chick. I don't want to know. Because whenever I hear about it [or read about it, but you know], it hurts. Because she doesn't see me like that. She'll never see me like that.

She writes confessions or PostSecrets or whatever-you-wills saying she's almost ready. And it's like a fucking knife, because... she doesn't care, it seems. She says she'll break up with him if he keeps being a jackass towards me, but... she doesn't care. She doesn't see it. She doesn't listen.

I have to break down in tears and be unable to talk for her to listen.

Just because I'm fourteen and she's fifteen doesn't mean anything, does it?  She's always said that sometimes she thinks I'm older than what I am. And I am. Not literally, of course. But... you know what I mean. She's been my best friend for a while now, so... why can't something else come of it? It happens all the time.

I want her. There, I said it. I want to be the Ville to her Bam, the Jonne to her Kris, the Cat to her Andy. I want it, so bad. It's killing me, knowing that she has someone else. That she's doing things with someone else.

But I'm just Renee to her. Just Renee. Nothing more. 

And it hurts.

My Swedish sims. Because they are pretty. :)

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