| Sandblast- May 2005 |
[May. 15th, 2005|08:49 pm] |
| [ | How's it hangin? |
| | creative | ] |
| [ | Current Jammin's |
| | Phantom of the Opera | ] |
This year at Long Beach, Washington's Sand blast retreat, my youth group and I all hung out and stuff. It was a bit wierd this year, and wasn't as fun as last years. Oh well, it was all good. We got in trouble for skating in the gym, but I didn't do any of the ollies over the chair, so I'm safe. Ha. Haha... I still had to scrub the floor's though. Just cuz I have a skateboard. ._. Weak.
I thought it was overall pretty good. I mean, there was this one time that I felt all spiritual and stuff. I guess that's pretty good, since I'm not very religious myself. I felt like someone had grabbed my shoulders and started shaking me, back and forth. "Wake up, Natalie... Wake up!" It was strange. I sat there, trying to figure out what the heck was going on.
Spiritual moments rock.
These two kids got into a fist fight over a hacky sack. There was blood on the gym floor after that. Stupid little kids... Oh well.
I sat in the firepit circle, laying down in the rain. It was great... I felt so free and like... I dunno. Awesome. I got so wet though. Now I have no clean clothes except Jacky's jeans that she left at my house, and my brother's sweater that I steal all the time.
Anyways. Enough talking about my life. Eat food. Be happy. Go to bed. |
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| Another random roleplay intro... I'm getting good at these. |
[May. 5th, 2005|05:47 pm] |
| [ | How's it hangin? |
| |  cheerful | ] |
| [ | Current Jammin's |
| | Smells like Teen Spirit: Nirvana | ] |
“Life:
Life is an opportunity, benefit from it.
Life is beauty, admire it.
Life is a dream, realize it.
Life is a challenge, meet it.
Life is a duty, complete it.
Life is a game, play it.
Life is a promise, fulfill it.
Life is sorrow, overcome it.
Life is a song, sing it.
Life is a struggle, accept it.
Life is a tragedy, confront it.
Life is an adventure, dare it.
Life is luck, make it.
Life is too precious, do not destroy it.
Life is life, fight for it.”
Dingy mocha oculars rolled in sockets. “Life is hell, rot and burn.” The rather small, also known as ‘shrimpy’ lass clenched black polished nails together, the pallid slip of paper that possessed the small, meaningless poem. She lifted the ruined ball of shredded tree and tossed it in the air, watching in contentment as it landed with no noise into the already over-filled garbage.
The small place could use a tune up… Two un-cared for, rosy margins folded back against pallid canines. A smile, in short words. Sometimes, you wouldn’t live to see one from Sophia Blaze.
The song “Mad World” had inspired the young teenager to move from her house in New Jersey… She couldn’t really remember where she was at the moment, but none of that that mattered. She was ‘free’. An independent soul, waiting for adventure… And the pack of cigarettes that were just out of her reach.
She stretched her arm out and watched in horror as her poke only made the box more difficult to obtain. With a groan, she gave up and stood up.
The magazine that the poem had come from fell from her lap and amongst the other rubbish that was scattered about. Perhaps they should hire a maid of some sort… The thought surely hadn’t crossed Shrimp’s mind.
“Morning.” She muttered to ‘The Gang’. Two other girls and a guy. She briskly stumbled, all 105 pounds of her, towards the mirror that reflected the ghetto room. Her eyes looked up at herself. The mess, that stared back at her. Two scrappy, black, pig tails dangled in front of her shoulder blades, and stopped just below her collarbone. A tan hand lifted a digit and poked one of her teeth. A habit, she had obtained when just a wee lass…
Come may call her careless… Firebrand child, a girl who cares nothing about life. The whole ‘shaboozee’ was nothing to her. Some call her depressed, depraved… But, please, call her Sophie. |
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| About me. |
[Apr. 13th, 2005|04:00 pm] |
| [ | How's it hangin? |
| | amused | ] |
| [ | Current Jammin's |
| | None | ] |
|
|
|
| Allo... |
[Mar. 13th, 2005|07:37 am] |
| [ | How's it hangin? |
| |  Hyper | ] |
| [ | Current Jammin's |
| | Time of your Life: Muse | ] |
Just got my hair cut. It's so awesome... I would show you, but yeah.
I made a myspace.com account. Make one too and I can show you my sexy hair cut. (: Yay. My email address is GeekishGeetar@aol.com, same goes for IM.
... Yep. ._. |
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| The. Poem. That. PWNS. >=D |
[Mar. 8th, 2005|11:52 pm] |
| [ | How's it hangin? |
| |  Pooped | ] |
| [ | Current Jammin's |
| | Still Waiting | ] |
I woke up today inside a brine tent,
And decided to give up eating for lent.
I sat at the table, feeling good about myself
And there Simone sat, eating eggs by herself.
I felt so sorry watching poor Simone eat,
And decided instead, I would give up meat!
I walked to the car with a nice full belly,
Inside my lunch was a peanut butter and jelly.
The car smelt of bacon and old rotten cheese
It first made me cough, and then made me wheeze.
Finally, we pulled up, and hopped from the car
We strolled about the parking lot, which was constructed of tar.
We took up our saddles; it came with two bridles,
And beamed at Simone, she was my horse idol.
I looked up to find a gorgeous brown mare,
She had a cute pallid nose and pink ribbons in her hair.
I took one glance into that crazy blue eye
And knew I should say my final good-byes
I ran up to Simone and hugged her quite tight
My heart full of pity, my mind full of fright.
I mounted the horse; I had much to fear,
Then looked at her head; there was a crook in her ear.
I sat upright and kicked her quite sharply.
She then made a noise, it sounded like “Flarply!”
We began to trot; I thought “this is great!”
We began to canter; I thought “Oh no, it’s too late!”
Just a ways up, I saw a large tree.
The branch came closer, and then it hit me.
I lay on the ground, feeling quite tipsy,
Far, far away ran my faithful horse Gypsy.
I began to walk towards that old stable barn,
Plenty of time to create a long yarn.
I thought about my friends, and of course my friend Simone
Who was pondering why I had come back alone.
“Simone!” I said. “This requires mediation.
Gypsy and I have had a serious situation.”
“I wanted to go left, she wanted right.
We went separate ways; she was out of my sight.”
I looked at Simone, a fake tear in my eye
I was lying so terribly, I felt I should cry.
I told the story, the wrong one at that.
“Gypsy leapt from a cliff, my steadfast horseback.”
Friends crowded around me, tears in their eyes.
They had believed all of those words full of lies.
Then out of the dust, who should appear?
But my gallant mount Gypsy, Gypsy! You’re here!
I stumbled across the dirt covered lawn,
I shouted with joy, “Two Infinity, and beyond!”
I tackled the mare with a smothering hug,
At my collar I felt a small tug
There Simone stood, her face had gone white
I knew something about Gypsy was making her fright.
She whispered something, too quiet to hear
I leaned in closer, so I was quite near.
I kept tilting in, until I was at my most,
I heard Simone whisper, “Is Gypsy a ghost?”
©Natalie & Simone Co. |
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| Insanity Test (That says all) |
[Mar. 6th, 2005|12:31 am] |
| [ | How's it hangin? |
| | sleepy | ] |
| [ | Current Jammin's |
| | The humming of my heater. | ] |
How, oh, how did they know...?
|
|
|
| My unfinished song. |
[Mar. 5th, 2005|05:56 pm] |
| [ | How's it hangin? |
| |  Unsure | ] |
| [ | Current Jammin's |
| | Theme Song to Teen Titans | ] |
Chorus:
Put on your sweater
And fly out the door,
Fall down the steps
And land on the floor.
All for me, baby, yeah.
Just for me. -vocalize-
Ooh, ooh... OOH!
(We made an awesomer version, but it has become more derranged than good.)
Credits: Simone-typed it while I squirmed on the ground singing-
Natalie (me)- squirmed on the ground singing it- |
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| Vampire writing thing. |
[Feb. 15th, 2005|11:49 pm] |
| [ | How's it hangin? |
| |  Drooly, maaan. (: | ] |
| [ | Current Jammin's |
| | Vertigo- U2 | ] |
This is just something I whipped up.
“Turn off the lights on your way out, will you?”
The two exchanged plastic, yet somewhat, sadistic simpers.
The listless beauty departed, halting from his seeing. Such a doll intimidated many, and affrighted them for angst of painful rejection. He ached for a concept other than the womanly body, but yet what dwells within it.
Gingerly, yet with a twinge of exhaustion, the adolescent beau leaned into the ebony computer seat.
Tapping a black boot concealed foot, and staring after the clad-shrouded, callow lass, a single word could only dominate his mind:
“Revenge.”
Gretchen Walker; yet a timeless glamour, a worthless slut. The bearer of all bad news. She was his boss.
Today he had been compensated. Refunded. Betrayed.
Today, he would seek revenge.
Cradling the familiar figure in his arms, he contemplated the bitter end of Gretchen Walker. He harkened her climatic whisper, canines inserted gravely within sallow skin:
“A beast…”
The elevator halted, announcing its termination with a distinct ring. It was amazing how sluggish the tour was at dawn, and accelerated during after hours.
Abandoning the lifeless corpse, the dashing chap left the method of transporting from level to level. He altered, reaching into the room and poking a square button reading “14”.
The portals glided to a close.
He was straddling an adjacent mocha bench. Just gazing a thick welt of sapphire into the whole lot of nothing.
“Josh, what have you done…?”
Brilliant he was, to speak his own autograph. It was an interminable regret to put the blame on another. The fellow had a profound modulation.
Onyx cloth veiled arms flew up to his head, hands running dangerously roughly through a mop of auburn locks in agony.
He muttered, faltering, and between clutched canines…
“What have you done…?” |
|
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| Valentine's Day, broken down... |
[Feb. 15th, 2005|11:38 pm] |
I will state first the reason to like this holiday, and right after it will be why you don't.
Or, I don't, as a matter of fact.
The hole of love.
-15/100 times, love will actually work out.
85/100 times, it'll die within 6 months.
-It snowed for a minute.
It turned into rain.
-You have a boyfriend.
You feel sorry for everyone else.
-You eat candy for lunch.
You gain back the 5 pounds you lost.
-Devon got her FIRST valentine!!!!
... From David Zuang. |
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|
| Herself. |
[Feb. 6th, 2005|09:53 pm] |
| [ | How's it hangin? |
| |  crappy | ] |
| [ | Current Jammin's |
| | Spicy McHaggis Jig | ] |
(This poem is really random. Sorry about it's strangeness...)
I’m not perfect.
I never was.
And I never will be.
But I know that this happened
And it wasn’t my fault.
It was you’re fault.
Just to spite me, you did this.
There’s a bottomless pit in here.
It never ends.
My heart won’t give way to this suffering.
Not to just get attention.
But you don’t see me like I do.
You see an animal.
Clawing away at herself with knives.
And finding no other way to run
From herself.
I see a girl.
Who cowers in the corner
Hiding from the light that was once
Overwhelming.
Consuming.
Heart-warming.
But who is now sheathed by
Darkness.
Hate.
Pain…
She is stuck wallowing in her own pain.
Her own guilt.
… It wasn’t my fault.
That I pitied you.
It was yours. |
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