ToRRY

Well, here I am again. Usually about once a year I decide that this whole web-confession must be updated and so I get up off my ass and do something about it. Last year it was bash the Christians, this year I think I am going to just give out the facts and share a poem that I greatly enjoy.

 First off, before you even get the thought in your head, I am single, and I live in Atlanta, Ga ...

Now that my ego is fueled because I actually fooled myself into believing anyone would even fathom thinking about asking if I was single .... ONWARDS!

This is probably the only picture which I will display to the public, and that is only because Takhisis would probably display it for me so I deal with it. It is a pic of me in SusiNeito/Rebekkah's kitchen. Yum-Yum dinner! I think the only thing keeping me in Atlanta right now is the people from the channel who live around here. We really are the best Crew in the country. (*neh!*)

 

I am in a band, Sins of Lust, here in Atlanta. We are not really describable, although most people consider that to be a standard response. I think we are a crunchier version of Bauhaus, but I guess you will just have to decide for yourself supposing we ever make it anywhere outside of the state.

 

Instead of doing my likes, I will do my dislikes. It is more fun this way, trust me.

1: People who are st00pid. People who have the capacity and means to learn and educate themselves about things which they are speaking, only they don't and come off like total idiots when they talk to me.

  1. Sobriety. Nuff said.
  2. Managers/Supervisors. They should all be tarred and feathered and kicked out onto the nearest expressway. Course, that means we would only get MORE managers/supervisors, but you can probably see how much fun this can get with the passing of time.
  3. Bill Gates. Need I say more?
  4. Mustard. Well, okay, I kinda have to hate mustard because I am allergic to it, but still... it really does taste nasty and it is bright freaking yellow. Gimme a break.
  5. Top40. I am working on my ultimate plan of destruction for all the MORONS who are presently wasting precious radio waves with their garbage and whining. Fuck'em all.
  6. PopGoths. You know the type, moping around in clubs looking all tragic and stuff. We have labeled them as such because they are goth by association. I just totally go off on those who won't talk to you because they are projecting this horrid 'more tragic than thou' look and don't want to ruin the façade. Again, Fuck'em all.
  7. BurgerKing. Hate it with a passion. Don't ask why, I just decided as a kid that it was not a good place to eat, and from then on it was run by Satan himself. (*Smirk*)
  8. Hyperactive People. Busy bees buzzing around the house, running here and there, gotta go do this and that and be here by this time and figgiting with erasers on pencils and tapping on the table and playing drums on their legs and talking 5000 miles a second ... ahh. I can endure this group more than some, but man do I just hate them. Bleck!
  9. Money. It is a st00pid concept. Lets get back to bartering our goods for other people's goods. Makes better sense than worrying about a green piece of paper.

 

Okay, enuff fun with the things I despise. I could probably fill up a few more pages, but that should give you somewhat of an idea about my personality and me. If you can't tell by the picture, I am 6' , 125lbs, black dyed hair (* I know , deal with it*) and blue eyes. There, blah ... enuff about me.

Now, my poem. It is called Razor Scar Remnant and anyone with the Mesmerized by Sirens CD by Black Tape for a Blue Girl will recognize it:

If only I could break my face, she thought; then I could live. If only I could shatter this mask. Which she has hid behind since before she can remember. The beauty she had no desire to retain. Which she had never wanted. It always precedes her; calling out to those, as a cruel welcome; telling all not to probe. Not to question. Not to get too near. Telling all that she seeked to hide. Behind shy and darkened eyes. If only she could shatter. To cast off the worthless pieces; and bury them beneath the cushions and under the warm wooden floor. To be free, at last. Of the bright lights and cold uncaring gaze. Beneath the world of onlookers. Who hated so easily. Who never understood. If only they could see my face, she thought; then I could live. If only I could reveal the empty heart and blackened soul. Cast down by their weight; so afraid and empty. If only I could throw this mask upon the ground and scream my shallow terror. Empty my mind of stifled fears; and drift through a new territory. A haze-like dream. A razor-scar remnant. Floating through the world of faces; who cry now. With pity.

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