Pretty Kill

It's like, you're the swing set, and I'm the kid that falls.

Sun, 01 Feb 2009 23:21:06 +0100

Really need a serious update here.

I fucked The Australian, so far four times, three in a mate's bed without him knowing (mwa-ha-ha-ha).
He's 26 now, and I'm 19. I wonder what he thinks of me, yknw?
Am I just some chick, a cunt to fuck, or am I a beautiful young Scottish flower, blooming beautifully to his touch?
He's leaving in 2 months, and I'm headfucked.

The Sailor that I wrote about in my last "entry" on here..
Well I fancy his brother. And apparently he fancies me. Is that weird?
He's 16. His name is Dan, but I'll call him The Nazi..
The reason being: He has a shaved head, and I loooove that look.
I haven't pulled him, but I really want to.

I feel torn, completely.
Last night The Australian and The Nazi were both at a party, and I wanted the Nazi more.
It felt strange. I felt strange. I believe I pushed the Austraian away. I feel like cutting myself open for it.
How could I?

I smoke Marlboro Reds
And dream of self destruction

Somebody save me.

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Sexual healing

Fri, 24 Oct 2008 01:17:15 +0200

Last friday I fucked a merchant sailor. I'll call him "The Sailor". Yes, I am creative, well observed. He was drunk, and I wasn't (I don't drink). It was at my party, which I did, in fact, organise in the hope that he would come and I could pull. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. He was too drunk to come, which sucked. And although it was sloppy, I would do it again. He was just pissed and shy. We watched Spongebob Squarepants Movie. I felt weird afterwards, as I wasn't used to picking people up at parties, so I was unsure of the social etiquette, as was he.

Now I fancy somebody else. Everyone's going out on Saturday night for pubbage, and I'm going to enjoy oogling him when he gets off work and joins us. He's Australian. His name is James. And I want to kiss him.

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You are, I am.

Sun, 05 Oct 2008 04:34:38 +0200

I feel unusual, to say the least.
I want to talk to him.
I want to talk to pretty boys.
I want pretty boys to think I'm a pretty girl.
You're a picture of the devil's daughter, I'm a picture of holy water.

You are the moon which shines the light, I am the colour of the night.
You are the warmth of summer's rejoice, I am the cold in winter's voice.
You are the wonder of a new love's start, I am the pain of a broken heart.
You are the joy a butterfly brings, I am the poison in a spider's sting.
You are the safety in love's return, I am the the fires of hell that burn.
You are amazing in every sense, I am depression, dark and intense.

You are purity through and through, I am just no good for you.

I am lost in winter's isolation.

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In need of your lies

Mon, 29 Sep 2008 20:39:15 +0200

Darling, are you out there?
Honey be my saviour.

Gorgeous, beautiful, stunning, pretty.
Lie to me if you have to.
Protect me, reassure me.
Just please exist and compliment.
Even if it's falsely.

Be my liar.
Tell me I'm pretty.
Be my liar.
Tell me it will be okay.
Be my liar.
Tell me you're there.
Be my liar.
Tell me you love me.

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Pretty Kill waste

Sun, 28 Sep 2008 17:23:07 +0200

I am writing a novel. It will be dark, disturbing, and glorious. I may only be nineteen, but I have a vast imagination for character, emotion and situation.

I want to waste away.

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Goal weight

Sun, 28 Sep 2008 07:33:02 +0200

Goal weight (for now):
140lbs (10 stone). Not much, but maybe then I'll be happy
?

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New friends, new eye candy.

Fri, 26 Sep 2008 21:59:34 +0200

I made a new friend on another site, and we talked for 5 hours straight. First on the site, then on MSN after we added eachother. He's 7 years my senior, at 26. He showed me a picture of himself, and my heart skipped a beat; The perfectly imperfect dark and handsome type. We put on our webcams, and he is gorgeous, and so funny, too. His writing is dark, from the soul. His voice was deep and america. We have too many things in common and share a lot of similarities. He joked about us being soul mates, as we would come out with the same things at the same time. I don't want to get too attached. I always do, and it scares people. I just want him as a friend, but just a sexy friend with whom I can flirt a little. He made me feel good. And if he lived in this country, I would damn well fuck his brains out. I wish he would plague me with messages, I hate that in normal guys, but wouldn't with him as he's so intriguing. Ryan rocks.

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Stolen Peace

Thu, 25 Sep 2008 04:17:50 +0200

Kung Fu Panda is such an awesome film.

I watched Howl's Moving Castle last night and all I could think was:
"Wow. That Howl is such an emo kid".
Prove me wrong, people.

I don't want to be up all night again. It leaves me isolated with nothing but my thoughts for company, and they depress me in the early hours. Sometimes the early hours bring me someone gorgeous to talk to, though our relationship is still complicated. He was my ex-boyfriend's (DICKHEAD!) best friend. Then one day I went to his house and he kissed me. And I allowed it. I took all of the blame, of course. I am noble in that respect and wanted to save their friendship. But part of me wishes I'd just let them crash and burn. One less person for my ex to destroy. Abusive cunt.

Haha.
Can you tell I'm bitter?
Well he broke me. Nothing gave him the right to stick his fat fingers inside me as I slept. Scum. Abuser scum. He is a sexual abuser, and I wish I could turn him to ash. I would go to the police, but I don't want to ever have to be in the same room as him again. I'd rather just leave it. I don't want to be dragged into a drama with him again. Plus, there's the trouble with lack of proof. That's the trouble, you see. He's a saint on the outside, but behind closed doors he tormented me. But he seems to have completely forgotten what he did to me. Somehow me "kissing someone else" (as it is percieved by him, although it was, in fact, his best friend who kissed ME) is worse than robbing somebody of all dignity and respect. Abusing somebody in their sleep is horrible, and I felt so dirty for it. I still do, even though it wasn't my fault. And he knew what my last ex did to me.

Emotionally blackmailing me into having sex with him, threatening to leave me. I was so needy, and he knew that I felt as though I could never live without him (I was 1) an idiotic teenager and 2) weighed down by a hefty depression which tore me to shreds, leaving me in need of having something, somebody, to hold onto). He knew that if he ever left my depression would completely smother me, and I would more than likely kill myself. So he would pressurise me for sex, and I would say no. Then he would give me the cold shoulder, completely ignoring me, making me feel as though it was all my fault, like I was in the wrong. Tormenting me until I finally gave in and let him use my body to get himself off. Of course, I always blamed myself for this, until somebody else told me that it was wrong, and it was he who was the monster, not I. He was emotionally blackmailing me, raping me in a way I could never truly prove. *Sigh*. I haven't talked to him for years, but obviously I am still cut up about it. But since my last boyfriend abused me too, my hatred for the first abuser has subsided slightly, as my mind focuses all it's hate on the second abuser, and myself, now.

Earlier on, after a lush bath, my blood sugar dropped dramatically. My head felt compressed and my stomach was turned upside down. Sadly in this situation, the only thing I can really do is down Lucozade Original. Which is not the best thing to consume when you feel like you're going to throw your guts up.
I hate having diabetes, so much.
Cure it
Cure it
Cure it
Cure it

Rant and a half, non?

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disgusting

Thu, 25 Sep 2008 01:15:25 +0200

I feel disgusting, fat, obese, grotesque..
Just make it all stop, yeah?
Thanks.

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Fuck

Thu, 25 Sep 2008 00:58:20 +0200

I want sex, now.

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Butterfly honey

Wed, 24 Sep 2008 22:09:49 +0200

"Sleep"
Recently I have been having a lot of trouble sleeping. Last night, or should I say this morning, I got three hours shut eye, from 10am to 1pm. Any time I do sleep it is in the daytime. I seem to be allergic to sleeping at night. The night is my friend, and I feel at home when consumed by it. A certain familiarity, if you will. Though I still feel terrible whenever I sleep away the day.

"The Average Week"
My average week never used to be eventful. Even when I was going to school (which I despised) I would only go approximately 2 times a week, and spend the rest of the time sleeping until at least 5pm. Now my week is more active. Monday: TAG, a program for those with mental difficulties/problems, which helps people get the skills to go out and get work. Tuesday: TAG again. Wednesday: Higher English class, 5pm - 7:30pm. Thursday: Free. Friday: Work at my best friend's parent's house, as the web site manager for their bed and breakfast/self catering web site. Saturday: Free. Sunday: Free.

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The beginning

Wed, 24 Sep 2008 21:56:09 +0200

"The Big Plan"
I don't know what I'm doing. Well, of course I sort of do.
I am studying Higher English, Beginner's Spanish, Start Writing Fiction, Start Writing Poetry and an IT course.
I am studying these things to collect grades and UCAS points so I can go to university and do Theatre Production: Stage Management.
Those are my current goals, That's the "big plan", but I still feel lost and like I don't know what I'm doing. Does that make any sense whatsoever?

"Problems"
I have had an eating disorder for almost a year now, and it really is taking it's toll on my mental health, which was in shards to begin with.
Having suffered from depression from the age of approx' 12, my mind is delicate and fragile, and the slightest thing can tip me over the edge.
I have been an on-and-off self harmer since I was approx' 14/15, though my last self harm was just over 7 months ago. It's very tough, but I'm okay.
I think part of the reason that I was able to give up self harm successfully is that my eating disorder is a form of self harm, also.
I have been sexually/emotionally abused by BOTH (yes, BOTH) of my "serious" boyfriends (i.e. official relationships in which I have been sexually active).
This has taken a huge toll on my life, and is part of the reason I no longer wish to be in a relationship (for the time being, anyway).
The other reason is that I believe I have to get my problems, and most importantly my self destructive patterns, sorted out because it hurts other people.
I have been told that for this, I am noble. I think I'm just smart.
I do have a "fuck buddy" at the moment, who is also one of my closest friends (and the big brother of my on again, off again, enemy).
But sometimes it's too complicated, as the boundary line is unclear. It's tough to define relationship behaviour from friendship behaviour.
I have been on a never ending waiting list to see a psychologist for approximately 7 months now, and I'm beginning to give up hope.
I am still unsure as to whether to bring up my eating disorder when I eventually do get an appointment. I want to be left to my own devices.
It's my body, my choice; It may be hell, but it's part of me and who I am now.
I was diagnosed with diabetes type 1 when I was 10 years old, which makes handling my eating disorder so much more difficult.
I smoke an unimaginable amount of marijuana, and I will also do other drugs as long as I feel completely safe.

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