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(no subject)

Dec. 23rd, 2008 | 12:36 pm

Life has been so good to me lately.


Thank you, thank you, thank you

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guess wut

Dec. 5th, 2008 | 05:51 pm

i have a mohawk

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(no subject)

Sep. 23rd, 2008 | 11:03 pm

no motivation to write, honestly
i'm always so tired

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If there was a God

Jul. 28th, 2008 | 09:31 am

He or she would shine through the music of Arcade Fire.

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A dream

Jul. 20th, 2008 | 10:43 pm

I started "talking" to this boy that looked like Cillian Murphy, except with shoulder length wavy black hair and black rimmed glasses. It was around the third or fourth time we hung out and he invited me over to his house. I go over and walk into his room, and he's got someone tied to a chair with duct tape over his mouth. Cillian-look-a-like boy takes out a kitchen knife and starts cutting up this hostage, and I'm all, "What the fuck". The hostage finally dies and Cillian boy looks at me all sweet and grabs me by the arms telling me that we have to run and hide. We're running down the street and I'm panicking and somehow running incredibly fast. We hide behind a corner of someone's house. A cop comes speeding down to a house on the other side of the street and starts shooting the grass on the neighbor's yard (I didn't know why, but he obviously looked like he was occupied with that and I was upset that the cop wasn't going after Cillian boy because I was honestly freaked out by this boy now, but I still thought he was cute). He looks up and see's me and Cillian boy hiding and shines his flashlight in our direction and sets it on the ground still facing us. My heart is pounding really fast and and cop continues to step forward pointing a gun to us. We hold our hands up and the cop looks at Cillian boy and asks what we were doing. I was glad that the cop came to take Cillian boy, but he lies with his sweet voice and tells the cop that we're playing hide-and-seek with some of our friends. The cop reluctantly believes him and I almost start to cry and try to decide whether I should tell the cop that Cillian boy murdered someone and have the chance of Cillian boy killing me, or not saying anything and continue to be in danger with Cillian boy. But when I try to tell the cop, the cop is already gone. Cillian boy grips me by the shoulders and tells me that everything is going to be alright and I'm seriously freaked out by him. Soon, I'm sitting in my room with Elizabeth and other random friends and I tell them about my strange date with Cillian boy. I think about calling another cop and ratting the boy out but I'm unsure how long someone can go to jail for murdering someone. I'm kind of scared if it's only a few years because Cillian boy would know I was the one who told on him, and I thought he would try and take revenge against me. So I ask the question on MadRadStalkers on LiveJournal and a real cop answers my question and gives me his phone number if I have any more questions. I get really excited and get ready to call him, but I turn around and Cillian boy is sitting on my bed with Elizabeth and other friends glaring at me. The dream shifts to a few months later in this huge stadium filled with hardcore fans of some movie. (I don't know which one.) The stadium was obviously used to premiere the movie and all the fans were dressed up as the characters of the movie (This must have been in my dream because of The Dark Knight). Elizabeth is with me and I get up out of my seat and tell her that I need to go to the bathroom and that I'll be right back. The men and women's bathrooms are separate bathrooms, but in each bathroom there are doors to a communal bathroom in the middle of the private ones. I'm curious as to what the communal bathroom looks like so I open the door to look inside and I see Cillian boy and Michael Yahweh sitting on toilets taking shits and talking together. Cillian boy sees me and I get really nervous and slam the door shut. I run to one of the bathroom stalls and try to pretend nothing happened. I hear a door open and look underneath the stall and see Cillian boy's shoes. He walks closer to my stall and I can see him through the little crack in the door. As he goes to open my stall door, I wake up.

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Weirdest. Fucking. Dream.

May. 20th, 2008 | 12:24 am

It was the end of the school year, and my friends and I had heard of various parties certain people going to celebrate. A bunch of the juniors said they were going to this large hangout spot on the beach, described as a simple empty, large house run by a group of women who rented out rooms. We took a road trip to visit this place. The house was just a large, rectangular, wooden red house with a large porch. The women who owned it were very carefree, hippie women with long hair and flowing clothes. One woman was sitting on some wooden thing with just a sheer scarf draped over her shoulder and jean shorts on, smoking. She asks me what my name is, and I tell her that it's Rebbecca, because I was afraid of them knowing who I really was because they were sketchy women. All the juniors are sitting out on the porches and hanging out of windowsills, just laying there soaking up the hot weather. The place was sketchy. I asked what the purpose of coming to the house was, but no one responded. I kept on asking, but no one would tell me why we were there. All my friends then said they were going inside, but I said I would wait outside on the porch until they come back, because the place just didn't feel right. So I'm on the porch waiting, and the oldest brother from The Brothers Garcia (picture)is sitting next to me. He either looked high or happy to see me, but regardless we started conversing about how we both felt uneasy about this place. He asked me if he could lay his head on my shoulder, and I said it was fine. Conversation goes, and suddenly I realize we're laying in a box of those peanut shaped things people use for packing and moving, still on the porch, just staring up at the ceiling still talking, his head still on my shoulder. As I'm talking to him, I feel light scratches on my shoulder, but I ignore it, thinking it's just his head adjusting. I go to scratch his hair when I see my shirt is full of blood. I look on my shoulder and he's gnawing on the shoulder, blood is everywhere. I scream at him asking what the fuck he was doing, and he just sits here grinning with blood coming out of his mouth. I start to panic and run off the porch. I see that beside the house is a little fenced off shed type thing. I open the door and see that there are 5 basset hounds chained together, and their heads held all together by a piece of plywood with holes in the middle for their necks. I freak out and see that one of the basset hounds is my dog Lush, so I open the gate and break the plywood off their necks and tell then to go run to my house (At this point in time, my house is right across the street). They run into my driveway and I'm yelling at them to hurry up into my backyard so the women won't see. I see from the corner of my eye the women jumping into a golf cart to run after me, and I hide behind my house. One of the women jumps out of the golf cart, looking me straight in the eye where I was hiding saying "Come out Rebbecca, we know you just tried to steal our dogs. We don't care if one of them was yours, it's private property that you deliberately took. Pay the consequence right now...." I stand up from my hiding place and start walking to the women, but then I wake up.



Now doesn't that just call for a big ol' WHAT THE FUCK ?!?!? Oh my GOD.

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Yu wr wht I wntd, I gv wht I gv.

Feb. 13th, 2008 | 11:04 pm

The daddy long legs that invited himself to stay in my bathroom for a week died today. I found him my bathtub, wings pressed down like someone had smashed him. I'm gonna miss takign showers and following him with my eyes, studying the way he flutters from corner to corner every few minutes. It suprised me how sad I was to see the little guy lying there, and how much emotional attachment I put into not even a pound of guts and wings. Funny how that happens, you know, when you get attached to things and they disappear. Better yet, they just disappoint you. Actually, less disappointment, and more "why the fuck do you flaunt in my face when you know what you really want".



Now there's something to think about.

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(no subject)

Jan. 11th, 2008 | 12:27 am

I apologize too much,
I'm sorry.

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(no subject)

Dec. 13th, 2007 | 12:15 am

Today isn't a good day at all.

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(no subject)

Dec. 4th, 2007 | 10:54 pm

it's all so amusing

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