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...