I M P E R F E C T I O N

 Mood: Content

Music: Perfect-Alanis Morissette

Reading: A few emails

Writing: A sCRYed fic

...My tummy hurts...

Anyways, not gonna complain, things have been up and down, lately, I've been trying to find writing contests to enter because I dunno, something to do. I've been writing poems in my poetry book like crazy, music and writing have become very important to me too.

I'm banned from pretty much going on here and Gaia and my other sites, so this entry is going to be quick.

I've gained a few pounds the past few weeks, I'm about 103.2 lbs now, so that's good. Mm, I've been wearing less black and more brighter colors. I'm sleeping again, but I keep having nightmares abut the end times and death, so I think that's symbolizing something.

That vibe is back in my room and I keep thinking I see dead things everywhere...I gotta clean my room.

Anyways, gotta go~

Issues of Society

Mood: Bored/Depressed
Music: Stay (Far Away, So Close)-Flyleaf
Reading: A RolePlay
Watching: --

So, the media likes to see those skinny females with large breasts and barely any body? That's sad, it's affected me, I should know.

No, I'm not anorexic, I might be on my way though, I weigh about 98 lbs now, fifteen years old, 5'0". I'm trying my hardest to gain weight to a healthy weight, but the more I try, the more I lose.

It also seems that if you're not good enough, if you don't have Barbies look, if you're not perfect, you're nothing for society, you can't have blemist, you cant be at the right weight, you HAVE to wear make up if you're a girl, if you're a guy you have to be on a football team or something. I dunno.

But it's like, like one of my friends told me that the next time I wear green nail polish I'll be concidered a lesbian WTF is up with that? It's like, if I'm a cheerleader, I'll be concidered a slut. Society is screwed. If I'm Christian, I HAVE to shove my beliefs down an Athiests throat or a Wiccans. Yeah right, I DONT do that, I'm Christian, but I dont do that unless they want to know more about my religion.

I wear all black, yeah, so what? It's my favorite color and I'm too pale to wear colors or shorts, I'm not Goth, Goth was during Victorian times (I think).

I used to hurt myself, does that make me insane? Does it make me emo? NO, it does NOT. I rarely show emotions, if none at all.

Anyways, I dont wear the "in" thing, I daydream, I read and I write alot, I wear only black and sometimes white, I listen to the teacher, I hange out with the "losers", what does that make me? It makes me, me. I dont wear make up, I have blemishes, I wear glasses and so, I must be shunned upon society.

Its a sad, sad thing.

Society is fucked up, half of those models we see in magazines or on TV are just airbrushed, no one can lose 50 lbs of weight in just one week (unless you starve yourself), diets only encourage anorexia, the media doesn't help, no one is that muscular, just no way. Some might be, but that takes years of training. And dieting.

So...your thoughts on this? Anymore stereotypes/problems with the world?

F A M I L Y (sCRYed One-shot)

Mood: Bored
Music: Something I Can Never Have-Flyleaf
Reading: A Topic On Gaia
Watching: An FMA Music Video
Eating: --
Drinking: Pepsi

I own Echo, my friend owns Maria.

Shes thrashing in her sleep again...

Echo sat in the gloomy room, silver eyes darkening as she watched her cousin cry in her sleep.

But I cannot wake her up, for it will hurt me.

"Mom...dad...Echo...NO! Please no..."

My hand touches the cloth of her black pajamas, I cannot make much more contact...

"Maria," Echo coos gently. Maria was only a year or two yonger than her. "It's alright..."

And I leave the room, through the window and sit out on the room, bringing out a ciggerette and I breath it in, coughing.

'Stay innocent, Maria...'

Breathe Today

Mood: Sick/Bored
Music: Justice and Mercy-Flyleaf
Working On: Farther Away and Lithium
Reading: --
Watching: --

You try your hardest
To perfect your explanations
You lie
Until they've run out of
Questions...

A smile plastered across her face, silver eyes telling the truth. She doesn't care, she claims to never care.

Though at night, the tears fall, holding tiny knees to her chest, small, bruised body, she never talked, never made a sound. 'Momma keeps me downstaires for my own good' she claims. 'Momma loves me...'

The sun never met her skin, but she has no color pigment, she cant change colors. Forever deathly pale. Her little body, fractured and in pain, upstaires fighting grows violent. She hugs her knees tighter.

As she grows older, skin grows transluscent, you can see right through her.

'These burdens are heavy..' She claims when no one is around.

But then she lies to those who ask. 'Why are you so pale?'

She smiled ever so sweetly. 'I dunno. Momma...where is momma?'

And they only pat her head and tell her not to worry.

Small body, frail and weak, curls up on the bed, the doctors news running through her young, naiive mind. The doctors eyes had met the guardians eyes, sadness. 'She is sick.' he explains. 'Little Echo might not live.'

'What does she have?' They spoke quietly as the little girl looks around, the room a calming lavender.

The doctor frowns and sadly glances at the little girl. 'She has cancer. It cannot be cured, little Echo's ribs are also fractured beyond repair...shes so young...she has lung cancer...'

Both males look at the curious girl who finally notices, silver eyes full of innocence and love. She crawls off, nearly falling, but the guardian gently catching her and holding her against him, face nuzzeling into his chest.

She becomes more and more frail, breathing become harder and she stares frightened around the hospital room.

'She has no chances...' the doctor now explains. 'The poor girl, was she born like this?'

The guardian shakes his head, brown hair falling slightly into his matching brown eyes. 'No. Her mother smoked...'

'Second hand smoke...'

And weeks past and the child slept more and more and finally, she is gone.

You can breathe today...

Conviction

Mood: Depressed
Music: Jillian-Within Temptation
Reading: --
Watching: --
Working On: Conviction

Quietly she rose from her bed, another nightmare
She dreamt of another world
And she wanted out
Convicted of sins
She takes the gun
And shoots herself
In the church
For the hope
Of redemption...