Blurty for Jessica. View: User Info. View: Friends. View: Calendar. View: Memories. You're looking at the latest 12 entries.

Sunday, January 22nd, 2006

Subject: Boy Problems. Time: 8:38 pm. Mood: bitchy.

Just for the record, I don't mind people having crushes on me, in fact, I'm sometimes flattered when people are honest they find me attractive and crush on me. I'll still treat you as a friend and no differently, but don't mope around being pitiful and pissy at me because I have someone already. It is not your place to get angry with me for already having someone and being in love and you can't do anything about it. I know it might deep down hurt you and upset you, but it's not gonna kill you to still be nice to me and treat me as a friend. If you decide to be a bitch and get pissy at me for being in love with someone other than you, I'll be a damned bitch right back at you if that's what it takes for you to get over your crush and respect me like a friend should. I've tried my damned hardest to be sweet and nice but when you bring it up and get ill at me, it hurts me an upsets me, and I'm fuckin' tired of it.

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Subject: The Victim of My Madness Time: 11:04 pm. Mood: calm. Music: Taku Iwasaki - Revenge of the Ghost.

My eyes slowly turn their gaze to madness. My smirk twists into something of a maniacal grin. I can feel my fingertips twitching with excitement. The adrenaline pulsing through my veins, Such a wonderful and glorious feeling this is. The silence is broken by my harsh and ringing laughter. Your anger excites me. Your screams keep me going. It’s so lovely to see the hate flaming in your eyes towards me. Come into my territory and anger me further. I am the monster and you are the victim of my insanity tonight. My blood has been set a boil, And I’m reveling in the sheer pleasure it sends through my being. You release cries and yells for this madness to cease, Oh, but you just pull me closer with them. Let me ravage you in being and spirit, And let me savor your pain and agony. Your anger excites me. Your screams keep me going. It’s so lovely to see the hate flaming in your eyes towards me. Come into my territory and anger me further. I am the monster and you are the victim of my insanity tonight. Yes, fuel me with your hatred. Let me taste your seething blood that burns with rage. Continue to pull me towards your flaring being. I simply love how you are filled with anger towards me, But oh, I can see through that rage and what I see pleases me. I can see to your heart you fear me far worse than death, which is so pleasurable. Your anger excites me. Your screams keep me going. It’s so lovely to see the hate flaming in your eyes towards me. Come into my territory and anger me further. I am the monster and you are the victim of my insanity tonight. I suppose this is a tad obvious this was wrote out of some extreme hatred, huh? Heh. Oh, but it's so wonderful and magnificent, to feel so angry, so over the edge, that my hands quiver and body turns entirely cold to all warmth. Such lovely feelings, they are. Lets just say one should pray for the fool this poem is... dedicated to. I bid you a due.

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Subject: God Hath Mercy Time: 6:21 pm. Mood: artistic.

I approach this deserted church, And I look up in slight hope. Isn’t this supposed to be a place of refuge? I walk within its blood stained halls, Hoping and praying that maybe, Oh, just maybe, That this abandoned holy realm may become my sanctuary. Oh, I need a sanctuary. I need to pray, I long for a place where I can be alone, Alone so that no one can hear my screams. I desire a realm where I cannot be bothered by worries of this world. I looked down at a pool of water that was used for cleansing spirits. I outstretch my arms and fall in, Letting the water envelop my frame. What is this feeling of security? Is this a religious feeling that God has graced me with? Perhaps, oh, just maybe, God has shown my weary soul pure mercy. Oh, I need my sanctuary. I need to pray, I long for a place where I can be alone, Alone so that no one can hear my screams. I desire a realm where I cannot be bothered by worries of this world. This world always lays burdens on others’ backs. One can only carry so much till their soul breaks down, Which is why I stay within this sanctuary. Sad to say, no one can stay within their safe place forever. People have to face hardships sooner or later. I cannot hide, nor run away no longer. So I leave my insecurities buried within the dirt. Oh, I need my sanctuary. I need to pray, I long for a place where I can be alone, Alone so that no one can hear my screams. I desire a realm where I cannot be bothered by worries of this world.

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Subject: A few things about the art world I would like to point out Time: 1:00 pm. Mood: aggravated. Music: By Myself by Linkin Park.

Perhaps I'm putting to much thought into the art world but I know the real world is a cruel place, and that is why we have art, right? So we can escpae from the harsh realities of reality temporarily. To me, I think the art world should be based on your own soul, and should never be corrupted by this world's critism. What you draw/paint/write/sculpt/etc. should be based on what you feel (unless you are involved with educational influences, that I could understand) but does it really matter what a total stranger wants you to draw something else other than what you love? If the person does not agree with your work or dislikes it, they should do the following: SHUT UP AND/OR KINDLY GIVES COMMENTS/CRITISM or if they really dislike, there is a thing called an EXIT OR BACK BUTTON ON YOUR BROWSER. Even if rude people/critics try to tell/corrupt you to do YOUR ART (which might I add is your own to control) otherwise,tell them to shut the @#$% up and move on. I'm getting sick and tired of watching some of this world's greatest artists being pushed around by their so-called-fans that always tell them to do other things other than what the artist loves doing. For example, I watch a very known artist by the name of Pu-Sama on DeviantArt ( http://pu-sama.deviantart.com/ ) for a long time and every now and then you will notice some of her fans will bicker how they want original work. Hey fols, you know why she does fanart? It's because some people say they want more fanart than original! Plus, she doesn't want some of her stuff stolen so that's why she does fanart these days. People, if you truly respect a person with creative and artistic skills, leave them alone and leave them be to do what they please. So what if furry/anthro/hybrid-art offends some people!? Who gives a crap if some people hate anime?! Does it really matter when you only do fanart and your damn whiny fans want original?! NO! IT DOESN'T MATTER. I wish people could get a grip and realize art is SELF-expression, NOT CRITICS-expression.

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Subject: Betrayal Time: 6:41 pm. Mood: crushed.

The sun has now grown dim upon your face, And you are no longer the soul I thought you were. You are now someone I hate, Nay, SOMETHING I loathe. I’m so sick of your hypocritical remarks. I weep that you abused my friendship. I grate my teeth with rage upon your actions. The darkness has consumed your soul at this point. There seems to be no use in reaching out to you. No matter how much I try, you don’t seem to understand. I can only say one thing to you now, which is I’m angrily disappointed. You point out other’s faults, but you should look in the mirror and stare upon your own. I can only forgive people so much. However, my forgiveness is not eternal, And this is the mistake you have gravely made. You can only make the same mistake so many times, Until someone will deliver serious consequences. The only thing I can say at this point is that you are no longer worthy of my presence, And no longer worthy of being called my friend. I can no longer show my smile to you, And even if I did, it is only to mask my hurt and rage you have caused. Good bye.

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Subject: Been a while, rant time again Time: 10:30 pm. Mood: numb. Music: Faith Hill - Where Are You Christmas? (suiting song for me r.

I'm not sure, but I don't seem to feel all that Christmasy this year. It had always been my second fave holiday and looked forward to it every year. Enjoying the warm sensation of having close family, friends, and Wes by my side, being happy of the joys of how even the coldest spirits turn warm on this holiday, but for some reason, something just doesn't click this year. Perhaps I'm still stuck in fall, maybe to me it's too early to feel warm, or perhaps it's neither of these? I read something of a friend's LJ that was sadly true. These days, this holiday (correction, almost any holiday) is almost nothing more than a conspiracy for greed of money. I'm no Grinch but if you look around you, it is sadly true. Also, I enjoyed my past memories of thinking there was really a Santa and being eager to see him each year. Remembering the truth that it was all a lie childish lie was heartbreaking, but even that didn't make me stop feeling warm with the holidays. God, I was too naive as a child, thinking their was good in everyone. As I have matured into this body and soul of mind, realization is cruel but somewhat protectful. The knowledge of knowing truth protects me from becoming rotten in heart and/or letting something cruel hurt me in anyway. But yet... Knowledge is also every human's burden, is it not?

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Subject: Poetry time again, kiddies Time: 9:05 pm. Mood: artistic. Music: My Immortal - Evanescence.

Today's poem is called Bloody Lust. This is one of my more popular poems. I wrote this when I was ticked off at pretty much everyone that day. Lots o' blood and such. Enjoy: A deep inner self within me, Rages like fire, And roars like a lion. As I watch blood pour from you, My fangs glisten with glee. My eyes show a malicious gleam, A gleam of thirst, A thirst that never seems to end. The most blissful thing to my ears, Are your pleas of mercy and cries of pain. As I watch you writher in death’s hands, I laugh with malice and contentment. I swing the blade hard across your chest, And growl with fearsome pleasure, To watch the blood spray. I cannot remember the thing called emotions, Nor do I recall memories of the past. I only have a lust for blood. With the last amount of your life, You clutch my leg and beg, Begging with tears of fear and sorrow streaming down your face. I look down at you for a few seconds, And grin in response. You gaze up at me with horror, I raise the sword high above my head. You scream again, And I thrust the sword downward. As I watch you writher in death’s hands, I laugh with malice and contentment. I swing the blade hard across your chest, And growl with fearsome pleasure, To watch the blood spray. I cannot remember the thing called emotions, Nor do I recall memories. I only have a lust for blood. I’m not going to let this game end so quickly. Oh no, let your demise end slowly. I lower my hand to your throat, And smear my hands with your wonderful essence, That beautiful crimson essence known as blood. I let my tongue observe the taste of the dark substance, And I smile again with twisted desires in my heart, Desires to torture you more and more. I let out another long roar as I feel myself losing control, Losing control of my bloody lust. As I watch you writher in death’s hands, I laugh with malice and contentment. I swing the blade hard across your chest, And growl with fearsome pleasure, To watch the blood spray. I cannot remember the thing called emotions, Nor do I recall memories. I only have a lust for blood. My fun has faded away, And I slowly stride off into the distance. Fires of red and orange raging behind me, And the full moon looking like it has bled itself to death. I grin, revealing my crimson stained teeth, And let out a long growl as I lick the blade, Licking it clean of the remaining blood. As I sheath my sword of death, I look out into the distance and ask myself, “Who shall be next victim of my lust for blood?”

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Subject: Artist Creativity, Popularity, and Perfection Time: 8:02 pm. Mood: annoyed. Music: Theatre of Tragedy - Rose for the Dead.

As a child, I always dreamed that one day I would become famous and popular in the art of sketching my original works and what not, but today, these views are much different. Today, I will admit, I wish I was so much better than I already am. I want to become more perfected in my skills but alas, the only one can achieve this goal is if I practice more and more everyday. I do not have a problem with this at all. At least I know I enjoy doing this hobby and I do have fans already. I have gained many friends, wonderful fans, and awkward stalkers from my works and it makes me smile everyday to know they love me, even if I'm not the best artist in the world. But when you gain even a little bit of popularity, you will have your bad moments I've learned. What I mean by this is you will have some pretty rude people and I might be so bold as to say, ASSHOLES, to say things of you that you won't exactly want to hear. At school, some idiots will look over my shoulder and watch me draw and make comments like, "Why don't you draw anything else besides that anime crap?" , "This looks retarded." , or "Why don't you draw porno instead?" I'm quite SICK of hearing these. If you don't like what you see, there is no need to look at it. JUST WALK AWAY. You don't have to say anything either. Not everyone draws the same things that you want them to. GOD FORBID we have difference of opinions in this country. I do believe that in the United States we have a little something called "FREEDOM OF SPEECH" and the freedom self express what we feel. Well guess what? This is my way of self expressing of what I feel, and if anyone has a problem, feel free to bitch because I can assure you I'll have some nice replies and sarcastic remarks to say. Another thing that has bothered me is views on popularity and perfection in today's society. It is truly pathetic. Just because someone dresses different, acts different, or whatever than you doesn't mean they are nice natured and normal human beings. In my school, that seems to be the only thing that matters. Being popular, having the latest fashions to attract mates, and so on and so forth. A lot of this school looks at me in disgust. Why? Well, it's because I'm a supposed gothic chick. I dress differently, and do different things than most of them, causing me to be looked at as an outsider. Tch. Could care less. The only thing that matters to me in that school is getting some education and seeing my friends. It is sad. So many people in this pathetic race look for perfection and neatness in today's society. Tch. Fools the lot of those. Society can NEVER BE PERFECT. We can't understand perfection, though so many think they do. I will admit, I try to have my life in order at some degree but not so much where I try to blend in with everyone else, leading a restrained and 'perfect' life like so many think they lead. I suppose this is the reason I act and look the way I do. I dress differently than most of the assholes and whores at school is because I do not desire to LOOK anything like them, much less act the same. I do not wish to wear these mini skirts up to the crack of my ass, which in turn just asks stupid, red necked, and lecherous guys mentally to rape my ass and wear make up to mask my natural looks and beauty, though I know I'm not the prettiest flower in the bouquet. This brings another subject. Dressing yourself up, applying powders and other such nonsense should not be things you depend on so you can attract someone into your life. Be yourself, morons. If the world did this, I'm sure we'd be somewhat happier at least. I'm no beauty queen, I know that for a fact, but I still have someone who I love very much and he returns that love in return, and I lead a happy relationship, all because we act ourselves. So come on people. Don't be someone else, don't blend with everyone else because that's the trendy thing to do because you're doing nothing but hiding yourself behind masks like some FAKE.

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Subject: Hellsing-poetry Time: 8:49 pm. Mood: creative.

This is a fan-poem I did based on the anime/manga, Hellsing. It is written based on what I think of Alucard's P.O.V. I hope you enjoy the gore and disturbingness or this lil poem I wrote on a bad day. Awaken me, Push me to the edge, Push till I explode. I want to feel the adrenaline rush, The need to see bloodshed, And the need to scream. Cause me pain, Cause me anger, It simply delights me. It delights me, Knowing the fact one day, I will explode on your ass, And I’ll get to hear your screams of pain. The rage, It’s like a deadly drug. Gives me pleasure one moment, But I can’t return normal the next. Don’t touch me, My damned soul is wild, Wild like a blood-thirsty hell-hound As the blood stains my hands, I feel bliss overwhelm my being. It’s such bliss that I just don’t want to wake up from. The need to taste this damned richness beckons me more and more. So I can’t refuse to torture my foes further. I take the gun and fire their shoulders to Hell. Cracking and shattering are the sounds I hear as the bullet blows the bones into pieces. The blood splatters across my face as the veins spew, And I lick my lips clean of the substance. My teeth reveal themselves in a wicked and cruel smile. This hound’s need to feed has not yet been satisfied. I let out a spine-shivering laugh, As their eyes fill with fear. You will all die eventually. This rush, It’s so contenting to my cold soul. It’s so delightful, Though it is sinful. Who am I kidding? Sin is my middle name. I am the damned hound of sin. There is only one who can console me, That being my master. But even she, Does not realize the little authority, That she holds over me. All hounds turn eventually, And this particular hell hound, Would enjoy nothing more, Than to see my master’s fear of me. I would love to lap it up, That sweet virgin essence of her body, Known as her blood and other sensualities, but alas. Such a thirst will never be known to me. This insanity, The thirst drives me wild, But it is so pleasing at the same time. Please Master, Fulfill your servant’s wish at least once. Let me have on taste of your blood. Your hell hound beckons. Your blind honor will be your downfall, Master. Let me take your burdens into my hands. Let me rob you of your humanity and virginity. I could violate you in every way imaginable, Crush your body with one blow if I so desired, But nay, I refuse to let myself do such to you. Why, you ponder? Ho, such an answer is one you’ll never acknowledge. One is obvious to you. I am nothing more than a servant but my other intentions shall never be revealed. Only your decisions will answer your own questions in time, Master. Until then, Master, I leave you to puzzle upon this song.

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Subject: Welcome Time: 8:28 pm. Mood: contemplative. Music: Linkin Park - With You.

Welcome, viewers, to this lonely little journal of mine. Here you will find events that take place in my life that I don't post on my regular journal, and ponderings/rants that may seem questionable to the normal person. However, I am not normal. Nay, I'm not insane, though some of you might think so after reading a few entries of this journal. I also write poetry and sketch alot. Some of my poetry or sketches may seem awkward or disturbing but like I said, this is going to be my dark journal. Also, let me this point across while it is on my mind. Everyone has a dark side, do they not? Even the most sweetest and purest of souls have things to keep secret and have a side that they don't want to show to others. I'm usually a good going person but once angered or in serious depression, that's when my other nature shows and it's not pretty. I try not to hide it either. They say it is healthier to let the emotions flow than keep them bottled up inside and let stress consume your being, is it not? Well, this is my stress journal. This was my rant for the night, so I bid you a due and leave you with a bit of my poetry to read. Good Night kiddies and a Happy Halloween.

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Blurty for Jessica. View: User Info. View: Friends. View: Calendar. View: Memories. You're looking at the latest 12 entries.