Existance...

i'm now 17 years old... Honestly, i had practically forgotten about this blog. Today, i started going through my old email account, and i found an email from blogger. Wow... how far have i come in the past two or so years? i believe i've come rather far. i'm not saying i'm fully recovered or anything of that sort... But i'm stronger. And that's all i can really promise. i'm a senior now. All of the court stuff is over now. i've been getting help from a wonderful therapist... I’ve come to terms with what has happened to me. Yes I still have a million unanswered questions, but I know that what has happened has happened for a reason. Perhaps… I’ll breathe some new life into this blog once again...

Romeo

His name is Mike and he's perfect. He thinks I'm the best think that's ever happened to him. I don't want to disappoint him. but I know I will. Once he finds out that I'm not a virgin... He'll never talk to me again. I'm not perfect. I'm NOTHING. Nothing...

I'm trying to rewire myself. And this is why:

"hahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!! I find this rather amusing, the fact that you are being so obsessive that you can't just let me go? haha yeah, that's why i am "trying to kill you". I don't even see how i am trying to kill you, because all i am doing is getting pissed off when you try to talk to me... It's you who is trying to kill you, not me. Just leave me alone, it's that simple. Don't ever ask about me, to alex or anybody, and just forget about me! Can you not get the hint? I don't like you at all!!!!!! And you are just coming off to everybody as a damn lunatic!!!! Just give it up... because i won't ever talk to you again. In fact, cut, i don't give a flying shit. You are just hurting yourself. So have fun with that, crazy person!!!! Goodbye forever!"

It's a message I got from a friend. And I'm just about as clueless as you are.
I don't know what I did.
I don't know what to do.
He was keeping me sane.
Now whats left?
Maybe if I change myself, things will be different.

The Nights...

The nights are the hardest. Just laying there. Afraid to move, afraid to
breath, afraid to make a sound. My eyes open wide. Shadows fleck the
corners of my vision, and I am afraid.
Alone. Shivering even though I'm warm. It's nights like these that make
me want to die. To tear at my own flesh, until I become something
different inside. Something braver. Something stronger. Anything then
what I am.

School?

After TONS of debate, my parents decided it would be best for me to go back to public school. At first I was extremely excited, but now that I know what day I'm going, I'm afraid. I don't know who all are my friends anymore. After word leaked that I was charging a boy (a popular boy with alot of friends) for rape, I got several emails and text messages telling me that I was a whore. I lost my best friend. I lost alot of really close friends. But I'm not angry or upset with them. I understand. Sometimes it's easier to believe that a good friends a liar, than to believe that something that bad can happen. I just need something real to hold onto. Something solid.

Gentle Tears on Pillow Cases

Isn't it amazing when someone can make a gorgeous picture? Or write a lovely poem? Or even sing a song. Certain words laced together can feel like a fine silk running through your being. Whenever I make something, that I'm really proud of, it feels right. And it makes the people who see it feel right too. All the people that we remember from history are famous for simply pointing out the obvious. Maybe one day people will remember me for pointing out things that everyone feels, but has a hard time finding the words to describe. Or maybe I'll just die a silent death, and no one will remember the girl on the other end of this screen, putting her being out for all to see. Or maybe I'll simply disappear, leaving nothing. Nothing but gentle tears on pillow cases.

Alone?

I know that no one has joined my blog yet. I mean, who wants to hear a teenager rant right? Maybe this is really like a diary... A diary that's public. I can't even explain how good this blog makes me feel though, even if no one's read it. It's kinda like when I play my guitar, or paint, or write. It makes me feel better. Even on the worst days when I have to go to court and face Monster, it makes me feel more... I don't know... More human I guess. Less alone, even though I am completely alone.

Diffrent

I think differently. Plus I spend large amounts of time thinking. I think that's why I don't sleep. I stare up and the ceiling that is too dark to see clearly and I think. I have imaginary conversations with people that have hurt me. I replay arguments and think of what I should have said and didn't, or things I said and shouldn't. I don't really know why I do this, I try not to. It hurts to think about those things. My nightmares are getting worse. I'm scared. I had a nightmare last night that one of my friends got hurt because of me, and went to the hospital. I found out that he got sick and went to the hospital last night. Interesting how that works out. My mind is completely fried from lack of sleep and not enough food. I've been getting sick more often. I have a doctors appointment after we get back from Texas, but I wonder if that's soon enough to save my brain from unraveling for good.

Merry L8 Christmas :D

Well, I hope all y'all had a great Christmas :D. Sense my sister is leaving for collage soon, I wanted to get her something memorable. So I got her an ipod touch. I put in in a huge box too ^_^. So my mom, sister, and me all got ipod touches :D. So, what been on my mind lately is... Well... Just life in general. I've deduced that life is good, but only if you let it be. I could walk around moping saying "poor me! I'm a rape victim! Wahhhh!" but that's not the way I want to live. I want to live life life with passion! There's this lady at Subway, and every time I go in there, shes singing at the top of her lungs and making people sandwiches. She could be all mopey and have a poor me, Subway sucks, attitude, but shes super happy with where she is. Also, there's this guy who stands dancing, playing a cardboard guitar with the Little Ceasers logo on it. But anyone can see that he is genuinely happy. Life's so good, but only if you let it be good.

Factoid!

Here's a little factoid about me. I spend an unhealthy amount of time daydreaming... About prince charming. I know, shocker. When I was 12 year old, at church camp (oki, I don't know where you stand with spiritual stuff, but I swear what I'm saying is true) I felt God tell me about this super amazing guy. He would be smart, and love me for me. And he told me that it was uber important to keep my purity. So as a 12 year old, you can imagine how completely stoked I was to meet this guy. I wrote about him, and I drew him (not bad pictures either :P). But then, I decided to be stupid. I snuck out one night, and now I'm charging one of my best friends for rape. Figures. Well, no prince charming for Starla... right? Maybe.

So I'm what people need me to be. People need someone that seems completely convinced that God's really there. That's me. No doubt. But I do doubt. It's hard to be 100% convinced. I think God's there, but I don't know to what extent. People ask me, why it this happening to me? Why is God allowing this? I don't know. I pretend to know, but I don't. Why did God allow me to be raped? Why did God let me cut myself? Why? I don't know. But at this point, maybe it was to help me grow stronger, maybe so I can help people who have been in a somewhat same situation. All we can really do is wait and see what God says.

And his name is...

So, a while back before my bran had fully started to function, I made a fake MSN account. I got pictures off of google, and I tailked to guys in chat rooms. Ninty three precent of guys asked me for nude pix and other nasty stuff. I was about to deleat the account, when I got an idea. There's this boy... we'll just call him Dave, and lets just say, he's Mr. Dream boy. We had had some issues before, when he'd ask me for nude pix and other stuff, and I confess, I sent him some stuff. We'd kissed before, we were both at our lowest points at the same time. Basicaly, he'd stoped talking to me. He said that he'd changed. I wanted to see if he was telling me the truth, or if somthing was just wrong with me. So, I talked to him on MSN pretending to be someone else. I HAD to see if he'd really changed. He really had. When I told him who I really was, he was pissed beyond belief. That was several months ago. This morning, he texted me back. I can't even explain what a relief that is. It may seem petty, and heck, maybe it is. But it isn't to me. It means the world to me. :D

Just another waking Nightmare...

I woke up with a start. I blinked, an expression of confusion clouded my face. I wondered why everythng was so loud. I took a deep breath, just to cough violently as a finger of flame sliped down my throat. My eyes watered fiercly as I realized what was going on. My room was on fire. I could already feel the sting of fire on my arms. I struggled to get up, but a massive weight knocked me down. I coughed again as if I was trying to cough out my lungs. My eyes watered, but I could just make out a human silhouette against the flames. I could smell him, despite the thick smoke around me. That smell, it made me afraid. It made me want to run. I screamed, but no sound came out. My arms hurt, but I finaly realized why. It wasn't the flame. I saw the glimmer of a knife in Monsters clutch, I struggled, and was able to turn my head enough to see my arms. There was no time to count, but I knew there were 97 cuts, making 98 scars including the one scar on my left wrist where I had cut myself to remember this Monster, who was now going to be te death of me. Monster bent down, and whispered in my ear, I promise...

Submachine

http://hallpass.com/media/submachine.html
So yesterday I was at my youth group's gift wraping fund raiser at Alco. Aspan and muah wraped a grand total of 4 (or was it 5? >.>) presents. So as we were dieing from boredom and lack-of-presents-syndrome, I taught Aspie Lyn the joy of playing the submachine games . To those nerdy point-and-click gamers out there, you know what I mean. After the first half-hour of her (mostly begging for help) solving the first game, I gave in and solved it for her, but she's officialy hooked :P. Oh! And I also taught her the art of advertising to very unintrested people. We mostly suceeded in freaking them out. good times .. I should really get a video camera...

Julie & Julia

So I just got finished watching Julie and Julia and it was oober cute . Somehow, I wonder if I could do anything like that... minus the lobsters attatcking me... aaanywayz, I sang for my chruches Christmas service. I sang Christmas Song by Flyleaf and I did AWFUL. So I just learned the song the night before I was going to sing it. I was just messing around and singing it cause I thought it was pretty. Then Dad walked by. He asked if it was a Christmas song and... well one thing led to another and lets just say I got reqruted. Oh the joy of being a pastors kid. Woo-Hoo. Figures. So I was in frount of everyone, and I sounded fine, but then I forgot how the chorus went. So I made up my own version. It didn't turn out too bad. I'll probobly post a video l8r... if mommy recorded it that is. '^_^

A.

"Please describe how this crime has affected your life and/or family."

Where do I begin? At the cutting? How do you tell someone that determines a rapiest's fate how he has affected your life on five and a half lines? Ok, I know I'm ranting. But seriously? Grr, no one gonna follow this emo blog. Ok, I promise I'll add some funny stuff. I'll type them up.

Victim Impact Statement

Great. Just wonderful. I get to write down how this crime has affected my life. Woo-pi-dee-doo. Okay, I get the point. It's good for the judge to know how you feel. But I've been trying my hardest to put this crap behind me, but it feels like no one will let me. Grr... Oki, breath. Question uno: Name of Victim... >.>


This may be a long night.