Approximately fifteen minutes ago, the Butt Ugly Spatula passed from this world to the garbage can. This Butt Ugly Spatula was near and dear to our hearts. It cost us about one dollar. It was white, with a butt ugly red flower decal on the handle, and it was infinitely more useful (and easier to wash) than the slotted spatula we had. We used it ( Read more... )

I'm going friends only. Comment and I might add you if you're not already on my list.

In my journal I have written nearly a page of reasons that I want to cut.

After these reasons, I have written two reasons that I shouldn't cut:

-Because people care about me.
-Because people think it's a bad idea.

Somehow, they don't quite balance out.

So they've left. I wrote a lot in my physical journal while they were here.

Yesterday, the Mother (thinking I was tulokyn) said that she thought I (as tulokyn) has gone back to a dark time of my life that she thought I'd left behind long ago. She said that she'd seen Matai on MSN lately, and asked if that was the problem.

Wow. Thanks. I ( Read more... )

They're gone! They're gone! I'm free! I'm free! They're finally gone!

(ps: I'll post more later)

I've had a bit of a rough morning. (Yeah, it's 2pm, leave me alone ( Read more... )

I'm keeping things inside again. I'm censoring my journal. I'm censoring my diary. I'm censoring my words. Is it Dante? Or do I just want people to ignore what I'm really feeling, by covering it up with nice words, or rants about something where I don't tell people how I'm really feeling ( Read more... )

I didn't write this. I copied it into my journal on July 15, 2000, from a post on the garage, on the Stinging Kiss boards. This post may very well be triggering. It most likely is. I can't tell myself. All I know is that a few years ago, it would've triggered me. And I repeat. I did not write this ( Read more... )

I know, I know, you never thoguht you'd see one of these survey things in my journal right? Yeah, well shut the hell up. I wanna know what people think of me, damnit. *grins ( Read more... )

I went to bed an hour ago. Forty five minutes, really. It's all the same. I read for a bit, and then I turned out the light, and tried to sleep. I moved my hand under the blanket, and Pwka decided to attack it, so I tried to calm her down. She scratched me. Her claws caught on my skin and just nicked me. I tried to calm her down again, this time by ( Read more... )