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Photobucket [24 Oct 2005|02:55pm]
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Save Me

[14 Jun 2005|10:51am]
[ mood | uncomfortable ]

I dont want to be here.
i can't think.
i just want a cuddle.
and a kiss.
and a good old cry.

Save Me

I've gotta go to the doctors [25 Apr 2005|05:54pm]
Ok so nobody reads this.

Doesn't matter.
It's not like I care.
I jsut wish that you'd be there when you say you will be.

12 Saviors || Save Me

Uhuh! I am the victor! [04 Apr 2005|10:43am]
New Layout.
Comments please :D
16 Saviors || Save Me

Oh so funny... not. [05 Nov 2004|08:54am]
[ mood | okay ]

Stolen from boxmyears

1. YOUR PORN STAR NAME: (Name of first pet + Street you live on): Sally Warrigal

2. YOUR MOVIE STAR NAME: (Name of your favorite snack food + Grandmother's first name): Popcorn Merle

3. YOUR FASHION DESIGNER NAME: (First word you see on your left + Favorite restaurant): Caution Jing Wah

4. EXOTIC FOREIGNER ALIAS: (Favorite Spice + Last Foreign Vacation Spot): Clove Wagga

5. SOCIALITE ALIAS: (Silliest Childhood Nickname + Town Where You First Partied): TinCan Dargo

6. "FLY GIRL" ALIAS (a la J. Lo): (First Initial + First Two or Three Letters of your Last Name): T. Hig

7. ICON ALIAS: (Something Sweet Within Sight + Any Liquid in Kitchen): Werthers Windex

8. DETECTIVE ALIAS: (Favorite Baby Animal + Where You Went to High School): Tiger Bentleigh

9. BARFLY ALIAS: (Last Snack Food You Ate + Your Favorite Alcoholic Drink): Sultana Bourbon

10. SOAP OPERA ALIAS: (Middle Name + Street Where You First Lived): Rebekah Pine

11. ROCK STAR ALIAS: (Favorite Candy + Last Name Of Favorite Musician): Mars Hammett

Ha Ha.

Save Me

Really? [19 Oct 2004|03:58pm]
[ mood | curious ]

I saw Bec.
She scared me.
I have new earrings.
And a Chest infection that wouldn't quit.

I thought you performed well. But don't bag out my boyfriend.
In fact everyone did well in my opinion. Think about it.

2 Saviors || Save Me

Kirk Lee Hammett. [25 Aug 2004|11:59am]
[ mood | ditzy ]


Kirk Hammett was born on November 18th, 1962, and grew up in El Sobrante, which is a suburb of San Fransisco. His influences when it comes to guitar playing were Jimi Hendrix, Michael Schenker, Steve Vai, The Doors, and David Bowie. His former jobs before becoming a wicked guitarist was at Burger King and at a warehouse.
He had a band before Metallica, which was called "Exodus". Kirk's older brother was a big hippie and introduced Kirk to the popular music of the age. When his brother went away for school, Kirk would pick up his brother's guitar and just started fooling around with it. He liked the instrument. In 1981, by the time he was 20, Kirk had some guitar lessons, and about "two weeks later", he formed a band called "Exodus". He jammed with his band and played in clubs. After leaving the band, Kirk met up with James, Lars and Cliff after Dave Mustaine got kicked out of the band. Soon, Kirk and the rest of Metallica would record the album "Kill 'Em All".

The rest of it.Collapse )

"I'm not into that whole satanic thing, it's something to fall back on if you don't have much imagination. Singing your fiftieth song about having lunch with Satan...it's silly."

Save Me

augh [15 Jun 2004|10:47am]
Stupid funny ass quzzesCollapse )
1 Savior || Save Me

Play sausage! Who has the longest? [13 Jun 2004|06:50pm]
{length:44}-{nightway}-{w23}-{cherita}-{goldy_kin}-{besyonya}-{alexej}-{ivand}-{ta_tochka}-{gosha}-{candelabra}-{nikon_nlg}-{dziro}-{ven_ture}-{xnrrn}-{allegroconmolto}-{soulscode}-{glassapples}-{traveller}-{shaenie}-{nasturtium}-{bunnybaggins}-{juvu}-{blueathena}-{wyldkyss}-{squidflakes}-{artdollz}-{watery}-{linzee}-{lostaddiction}-{turningred} - {moohcow} - {sessodio} - {been_thinking} - {snaggletooth_ed} - {forky} - {amerrydeath} - {mandalyns} - {evil_jackie} - {skeet_dog} - {gerliie} - {cherrie_cola} - {babiiblu292} - {xsparklinstar3x} - {tina4toby}
To join, enter your nickname and press the button. The sausage will post itself automatically.
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created by nightway
Save Me

[22 May 2004|02:49pm]
3 Saviors || Save Me

My Bum Is On The Man! [29 Apr 2004|10:28am]
[ mood | cynical ]

I don't know why I'm so messed up this week.
All I can say is thank you to the people who are keeping me sane... you two know who you are...
I feel unloved. But I know I am loved... That doesn't add up in my lil head.
Oh shit.
I think I should go and have a shower, I'm a smelly bastard lol.

I don't love myself anymore...

Today's random Quote: "Women might be able to fake orgasms, but men can fake whole relationships." *Sharon Stone*

3 Saviors || Save Me

Sigh. [03 Mar 2004|03:02pm]
[ mood | enthralled ]

I don't know why people complain that my posts are friends only.
I don't do this to be a snob. This journal does not contain anything against people without good reason. I'm not doing this to be better than anyone, or to be selfish. There's nothing for show in here. This isn't a substitute for saying something in real life. You won't find hypocrisy in here, unless for sarcastic intents and purposes. I don't hide behind the words in this journal and expect everyone to just accept them without a fight. I'm cool with what others have to say, unless I have good reason or strong convictions against it (i.e. random sayings without any coherent explanation), and will likely be perfectly fine with your self expressions. I actually learn from my experiences and don't dismiss them in order to deliberately attempt to ruin someone.
This is my journal.
My thoughts, my feelings, my emotion, my boredom, my passion, my sorrow, my being...it's me. And some people can't seem to accept that I am me and I'm not afraid to be me. I can't help but, after all. If I offend you, simply remove my journal from your friends list, or disassociate yourself from me. I don't expect everyone to always get along with everything, ever. I just expect basic respect for others' right to freedom of speech.
I do complain about things that bother me a lot in this journal. If you don't want to see it, then don't read it. I curse a lot.
Point is, I'm not out to offend, or gossip, or do anything other than just express myself at the given moment. I get annoyed easily, and passionately express my views with words that I feel fit to do the job. If my language or beliefs seem harsh to you, then that's just how strongly I feel about the subject, take it or leave it. I'm just an individual who's not always content with the hand life has dealt him. Label me if you must, adjectives are necessary to describe people, but don't do so without legitimate reasons.

Nobody is perfect, folks.
We're all only human, though some like to think otherwise.
If I say something you disagree with, whether because of your ideals or the facts aren't straight, then comment, dammit, and let me know. This isn't online for no reason, it's not a waste of space, or a joke. I'm not on Livejournal just to follow others or be trendy. I'm doing this for myself, and inviting others to take part in it if they want.

Everyone wants to be unique.

Everyone wants to fit in.

When we look around today at people in general, we usually see groups of people who look exactly the same. All white teenage girls look like Britney Spears. All white teenage boys look like they belong in the 70's. The other day, I went to a restaurant and saw a group of four gentlemen in their early 30's to mid 40's. They were all wearing khaki shorts, thin, tucked-in golfing shirts and visors. At first I thought they must be on some team or something. Then I realized that they were just a couple of guys hanging out. I guess they had been golfing or something, but why does the occasion have to dictate the dress? Even the color of their shirts was the same ho-hum, sandy brownish boredom. Hell, white people say all black people look alike and black people say all white people look alike even.

It's obvious that MTV, TV in general and, even more widespread, society in general has programmed us into thinking that we all have to act a certain way, dress a certain way, look a certain way, speak a certain way and, most importantly, spend our hard earned coin in a certain way. In Pavlov's experiments, his dogs were trained to bark every time a bell rang. Now, we're trained to rush to the stores and buy a cd every time MTV says there's a new #1.




Britney Spears.


These are all examples of society telling us what to like and what we should buy. If these things make you happy, then fine. If you really feel like spending money on them, fine. But, do they really make you happy?

So, we're all alike...right?

Then again, you have the "outcast" part of society. The rebelious group that wants to be different from everyone else. But, in trying to be different, aren't they being the same?

No matter who you are and what your situation is, there is someone out there with the exact same problems as you. There are billions of people in the world. By laws of probability, I am right. You don't even have to use the entire world's population. Use your country's, your state's even. Hell, I wager that you can find someone in your own town that is going through or has been through the exact same things that you are.

It doesn't matter how unique we are, there are certain threads that bind together certain groups of people. In fact, all of us are bound together by some of these threads. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is be yourself, but never be alone...because no matter how you may try to get away from it, you never are. There's always someone that you'll have something in common with.

I just got through burning a cd. It is a nice little mix of anime theme songs, a few alternative songs and even some pop. Why do you care? Well, you probably don't. But, the message I'm trying to deliver can be summed up by reading the first sentence over again. By burning my own cd, I was able to put together about 19 tracks of music that I like. I didn't pay over a hundred dollars (no joke) buying all the cd's necessary to compose the one that I just burned. We've all done this before, no big deal.

But I think we just need to live our lives with the simple philosophy of burning our own cd's. No, not the part with the RIAA breathing down your neck because their rich artists aren't getting even richer. That's not what life is about. So what is life about? Do things you like - things that make you happy. Be nice. Play fair with others. Just relax and be mellow about situations that appear beyond your control, because worrying and/or bitching about them won't make things any better. And most importantly, don't be an asshole...unless you have a website.

"Being an individual too often means being alone, and the human creature was never meant to be alone." - Albert Einstein

6 Saviors || Save Me

Oh. How True. [02 Mar 2004|09:31pm]
[ mood | rejected ]

you are... bi-polar

What type of Depression do you have? (MANY different outcomes)
brought to you by Quizilla

Save Me

Hope. [02 Mar 2004|02:48pm]
[ mood | impressed ]

Generosity is beautiful. She’s not outwardly adorned or showy in her giving. She does not stand proud and wait for accolades. She does not forcibly bestow herself on others – rather she quietly slips in and does her work, only to slip away and be gone before others have noticed.
Her beautiful character comes from within, nearly always taking others by surprise. Her benevolence is not sneering, nor is it demeaning. It’s heartfelt and humble, coming from a place that most don’t know they have. Although easily squashed, as she rises up she stands strong. When allowed to rise again and again, she become stronger and brings about a character change in even the hardest of persons. Her shy demeanour begins to dissolve and whilst she stays quiet, she becomes more confident. She brings about warmth which slowly begins to make a person glow. She eases the hard lines in a face, and softens the wrinkles around a brow. Rough edges become loved and no longer irritate like sandpaper.
Generosity seems willowy; a slight woman if you must, yet it’s her inner strength and reserve that makes her admirable. It’s the way she keeps giving out of her little, so that others may have much. A love for blessing others, and a quiet knowledge of when to step in and lend a hand is a part of her integrity. Her appeal draws others in, and one loosed, others cannot help but be drawn to her also. She brings change in thousands of lives through her presence, and sadly she leaves a change through her lack of presence. Is generosity your friend? Are you familiar with her, or is she a stranger? Do you know her well, or are you mere acquaintances? Have you just begun a journey with her, or has she taken you on a voyage of a lifetime? Come. I implore you to love her; allow her to thrive in your world; to watch the lives around you as her spirit catches on amongst those you know, and begins to effect change.
It’s a flawed truth that tells me what I look like is all that matters. It points out that singleness is for scum, the lowest of low. It tells me that I can’t possibly be what I dream to be. It’s a flawed truth which makes me believe that if I don’t keep him happy, he’ll walk away and leave me – forever. It lies to me and tells me that I couldn’t possibly live without him. It’s a flawed truth which convinces my friends that this is all there is to life, and they’re alone in their pain. It sneakily lies to us and tells us that we’re worth less than the person next to us. It robs us of our hope in a new day. It’s a flawed truth unkindly entangling this world with its sneaky thin tentacles, choking all hope, all good things, and all life. It breeds hatred, despair, loneliness, death. Most of all, it lies. It’s a flawed truth masquerading as a whole truth which deceives generation after generation. It darkens our world and leads us blindly on to the path of destruction.
Life would be far more simple if my mother didn’t insist on interfering with everything I do. Take for example my work situation this week… I got two calls this week from Mum's shop asking if I could come in and work, one she woke me up for, and I said “thanks but no thanks” and the other, she took and said I’d call back. Being the idiot I am, I let Mum convince me that it’d be a good idea to try persuade my Dick Smith manager to squish my work hours for the proposed two and a half weeks to 6-9pm at night, and all day Saturdays. I should’ve said no, and called the Sonja back straight away.
But no. I go in there, propose what she says is a good idea, write it in the books, and call my manager this morning who (oddly enough) said that it was fine. I call Sonja back, and because I’m doing Tafe in the mornings, she don’t want me. They want me all day or not at all. I wish she’d just leave me be when I make a choice, not tell me that my choice isn’t the right one, and that I have to do it her way. Most of you are probably sitting there going “why didn’t you just say no?” All I can say, is that if you’ve never lived with her, you’ll probably never understand. I’m mildly pissed because now I look like a dimwit to my manager at DSE. I can’t get on the internet when I want to. I can’t sleep until I feel like waking up. I can’t just ignore that the phone’s ringing if I don’t want to answer it. Having Mum at home all the time is annoying. I can’t even have silence, because she always wants some kind of noise going. She tried to plea bargain with me about getting on the internet this morning. I felt like saying “I’m 17. I’m not going to go clean my room before I get on the internet. If you don’t like the mess, stay the hell out of my room.” My room’s not even that messy. Luckily, she realised that she wasn’t going to win and stopped. Having said that, I know it’s not really fair of me. I’m whinging like a spoilt brat. I guess I just hate change. There’s many a choice in life we make, that we have no idea where it will lead us. There’s also many a choice that we make where there’s positives and negatives both for and against. It’s one of those that I’m faced with right now. My hearing impairment is getting to me. Sometimes it bothers me, but usually it doesn’t. Yet lately, it’s starting to drive me up the wall. I can’t even do anything about it. I can’t sleep without silence, yet I want to hear things so that I can wake up. I don’t want feedback in my hearing aids any more. I want to know that if I don’t hear something it’s because I simply don’t hear it, not because I can’t hear. I want to know that it’s something that other people haven’t heard either, not just me. I prayed for a while for a miracle. I fully believe(d) that one day I’ll have perfect hearing. But it’s so hard to have faith in that. It’s so hard to keep praying and to believe the testimonies, and to hold out for a miracle of my own. My cynicism kicks in, and I am left doubting that anything will ever change. I know, I need to keep hoping, but it’s hard. I know the only thing that holds me back, is me. But there’s that nasty little voice in the back of my head telling me I can’t do things because I can’t hear. “You can’t be a counsellor – nobody wants a counsellor that doesn’t hear what they’ve got to say..” I hate going swimming with my friends, because in the water I can’t hear them. They talk to me like normal because they forget that I can’t hear. In a sense it’s a good thing – I do so well normally, but in a sense it backfires because they forget sometimes. I hate those late night girly talks we have when we sleep over, because I can’t lip read in the dark, and I can’t hear when they start talking if I’ve got my hearing aids off. I wish I could hear like everyone else could. But at the same time I recognise the value in my lack of hearing. The positive sides stand out to me. However, it doesn’t change this longing deep in my heart to hear. I fear my kids telling me things and missing out because I haven’t heard what they’ve said. But I guess for most people it’s not a big deal. It’s a big deal for me. I want to hear Phil whisper sweet things in my ears. I want to have those moments that only couples can have, where one whispers something into the others ear and makes them smile. I want to play Chinese Whispers without fearing that I’m the one that mucked up the message because I heard wrong. Even though I fear that I’ll lose an essential integral part of what makes me who I am, I still want to have that chance at hearing. Maybe I’ll get lucky one day. But in the meantime, I hope for satisfaction in what I have, and gratitude that I do so well in my speech and every day situations. Maybe one day I might even get to understand or find out why I was made this way.

1 Savior || Save Me

What I think of Rob. [01 Mar 2004|09:23pm]
[ mood | crazy ]

On a tuesday afternoon my Dad came in my room
And said get the fuck up out of bed
And get a goddamned job
So I told him hey hey fuck you Dad
And I threw the phone at his head
But it missed and hit him in the wang
So I slammed the door in his face
Don't over barge in my room
Or I'll kick your ass and call the cops
And tell them i'm abused
And you'll wind up in jail
While I'm still holding mail
No one to post your bail
Coz Mummy loves me more
She says that you're a....

You're worthless, you're lazy
You're stupid, A little overweight
Now give me 20 Bucks
Daddy you're so worthless, you're lazy
You're stupid, A little overweight
Now give me 20 bucks
No make it 50 bucks

Now Dad writes me letters
I write "return to sender"
Let him rot there in his cell
I watched the dogs mate on his bed
Sorry Dad, I had to pawn
The china, silver and all your jewellery
I had to eat, and rent a bunch of kelptomaniacs like you!

You're lazy
You're stupid, A little overweight
Now give me 20 Bucks
Daddy you're so worthless, you're lazy
You're stupid, A little overweight
Now give me 20 bucks
No make it 50 bucks
No make it 60 bucks
Make it 75
Why don't you just give me your whole goddamned purse
I hope you're having fun rotting in jail
Maybe I'll come visit you


2 Saviors || Save Me

So incredibly true. [18 Feb 2004|04:46pm]
[ mood | drained ]

Why do you cry?

brought to you by Quizilla

Save Me

not again! [18 Feb 2004|04:35pm]
[ mood | bored ]


Find out what anime girl you are.


What Random Object From Ydoc Nameloc's Room Are You?

Quiz Title

Save Me

Humdrum. [18 Feb 2004|01:22pm]
[ mood | lazy ]

At school now. God, i think I wanna do this test... that's really sad innit! *hunger* I agree with cera, school for this long on a weekday sucks the anussum. Meh! Oh well, I really can't think of much to say! I'm so lathargic today. *yawn* My feet are the size of baloons! DIE DIE BLISTERS! I should prolly do some work! Bye!

Save Me

My Very Own Story. [17 Feb 2004|10:35pm]
Once upon a time in the vast and rural land of Detroit there was a little boy named Shayanne who was 17 years old. Shayanne had a Gerbal named Trent and together they enjoyed smooshing and splattering.

One day, Shayanne and Trent were taking a stroll through Detroit, when they came across a Beautiful, purple chair. Shayanne and Trent were very angry and they promptly Stomped away. But, the chair Stomped after them.

At the advanced age of 17, Shayanne was a very Flabby boy and thus he knew what had to be done. He pulled his trusty Tree from his pocket and screamed colon, NOW! chair-Penis!!!!! The chair sadly Died into the distance, and Shayanne and his Gerbal happily went home to enjoy an afternoon of smooshing and splattering.
1 Savior || Save Me

[17 Feb 2004|05:08pm]
my bad poem:
Pain tree

I feel so Pain and hate sometimes,
sometimes i want to STAB my penis and die,
the tree is so pretty and sad,
the grasses sound like fairys .

I feel so Pain and hate ,
nobody understands my gruesome , flabby pain ,
I want to puncturing and smooshing in the rain
the tree reminds me of feeling hate , the grasses mock my scare ,

sometimes i want to STAB my penis and die,
underneath the pretty , homosexual sky
Save Me

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