-bounces-

yesss!
i love alice.

bri sent me this quizz.
take it.
then tell me in the comments.

Twilight Quiz by QuizRocket.com fun quizzes!
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100th Post.

no it really is.
anyways.
i'm thinking of starting a drabble-a-day.
a drabble's a mini-story, just a few paragraphs.
so. i need prompts.
in fanfiction it's usually a pairing and a word, e.g. travis/katy, christmas.
but most of you aren't fanfic!fans so you can give me something different.
and i'll try to write one every day.
unless i don't get enough prompts.
or if i'm not on the computer.
maybe i'll do this on lj.
or quizilla.
anyways.
writing it down so i don't forget.

i caught a falling star and it wept for me... dying.

huh. so nobody like green day. and panic beats fall out boy? i'm impressed.
then again, it seems that panic *always* beats fall out boy...
afi owns the title. i think. maybe davey does. or the record company. or jade...
ANYWAYS.
i'm kind-of obsessed with tokyo hardcore. and NO it's not some japanese bakkuke film.
it's tarina tarantino's 2007 catalog.
she's a jewelry designer.
tokyo hardcore is a book-like catalog, in that it has characters and you follow them through the plot. oh, did i mention? DAVEY HAVOK AND JEFFREE STAR. and some other asian girl. she's really pretty..
...
ahem.
ANYWAYS.
i can't get it all online.. so if someone would buy it for me i'd love them forever.
i'm saving up to buy breaking dawn!
yay!
is anyone else going?

hardcore superstar- by far, you're the ultimate star

credits to the amasing tegan and sara for the title.

okay. so. i need help.
really.
but i'm not going to scare you all.
i'll just keep it inside- maybe it'll go away with time.
just-
is it normal to want to get a life-threatening disease and beat it, just to prove to yourself that life's worth living?
no.
i know it's not.
i just...
can't help but feel worthless. like i'm wasting everybody's time, killing innocent people in africa but breathing their air.
we're all going to die eventually... sometimes i wish eventually was now.
i feel as if i have no talent. i'm just that kid that no one needs around.
would you cry for me?
or would you laugh at me, making fun of my.. my... there's not even a word for it.
it's just... emotion.
but emotion shouldn't be able to control you.
i wish i was bipolar. then i could take lith and BAM i'd be happy.
but i'm not.
i'm not anything,

this isn't acting- actors don't die.
i swear it's true- this is no lie.
just when you think it'll all be alright-
the dark consumes all- you can't find the light.
i'm twisting and turning-
nothing to break my fall.

So.

I'm in California. But I'm not going to tell yew a whole lot. Cos. I have limited time.
Haight Street is full of love and is > world.

and i wrote a songfic:


[Love Like Winter]

Press your lips to the sculptures and surely you’ll stay…

We wandered through the sculpture garden, statues of deceased king and queens’ eyes seeming to follow our every move. It should have been eerie. She should have clung to me, whispering something along the lines of “this is scary…” But it wasn’t. She was, I was, we were. Nothing could stop us, and certainly not some bronze medieval queen.
“BOO!” She jumped on my back, trying to startle me. Even though the newly fallen snow had muffled her footsteps, I had heard her boots. She’d insisted on the pair, making me wait for her to put on the giant, clunky oversize combat boots with soles so thick they’d make you think she was taller than Shaquille O’Neal. As she jumped on me, the weight of the shoes alone was enough to make me fall over. And I did.
The Polaroid camera slipped out of my pocket, clattering on the stone sidewalk where the snow had not fallen, covered by an overhanging tree. She tumbled off my back in her vain attempts to reach it; I’d swooped it up as soon as it had made a nosedive from my coat’s compartment. She pouted, then hopped right up. I could never understand how she moved so fluidly in that footwear.
“A picture! Daveyyyyyy! Take a picture of me,” She exclaimed. “With this one! She’s pretty!” She ran to a statue of a woman, almost girl really, draped in a Greek chiton. Pressing her lips to the woman’s cheek, My Enigma looked at me expectantly.
I obliged to her unspoken demand, holding up the camera to snap the picture. And in that picture forever she’d stay, kissing the statue, an enigma.


“Wait.” Flash. “Tape’s still rolling.”



‘Cuz I have a crush on Lacey.






Read the lines in the mirror through the lipstick trace….


She died, forever of sugar and ice.

Her last message, written on the cracked mirror reading: “Por siempre.”




and i wrote a nice little nonsense one for jessie/my sister;

am i beautiful? am i usuable?

Heyy Jessie. Here's your storeh:

Jessie is a cyborg. She secretly works for the USSR’s super-fab-cereal spy network. She is doing studies on middle-school students and teenyboppers. I’m not sure what else there is to say. She’s blonde, but she considers herself a brunette. LIAR. Her friends recently ditched her for the “IN” crowd. Their names are Nikki and Kelesy. She’s not jewish. She doesn’t have a clown living under stairs named marcus. Or one in the garage named jimbo. I do. Therefore I am cooler than her. BWA HA HA HA HA! -glares at you- don’t laugh at me. ^-^ her biffle is SIERRA HOPPIE the one und onleh SUPERRRNEENJA. I am totally making this all up, can you tell? I have throwing stars. :/ soooooo. What else. Cupcakes > muffins. Lemons > pancakes. I’m not particularly creative today. AGH! –is dragged away by Mordicant- HALP!
Ohnoes. My hand hurts. –staple guns it- LIVE. LIVE!
McDonalds is taking over the world. Texting is overrated. –drinks jamba jooce- RECYCLE RETARDS.
Styrofoam is packaged in bubblewrap.
Bubblewrap is packaged in Styrofoam.
Irish people don’t spreck Ingles. Neither do i. :]
I lie a lot.
I’m nice.
See second sentence up.
Jessie, if you ever translate this, I promise I’ll write you a real story. If you don’t…
WELL HA HA SUCKAA!
-throws phone book at you-
^-^ no I’m not violent.