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Rebecca
19 May 2014 @ 09:04 am



Hello, everybody. Welcome to my journal. 

If you don't know me already, this is a good opportunity to do so. 

Feel free to post on this entry to say hi and introduce yourself if I don't know you, or if I do know you but don't necessarily know your LJ name, then you're also welcome to drop a line and say hey. Enjoy.

Tags: ,
 
 
Rebecca
16 June 2007 @ 06:07 pm
so, there's this thing where i kind of want to kill my sister for being a hypocritical bitch.

discuss.
 
 
Rebecca
Oh God. Oh God oh God oh God. I never thought it would really happen. I never thought -

Christ, I don't how bad it's gotten. I'm hearing reports all the way from the East Coast and I'm in the fucking desert on the West Coast. I don't know where the outbreak started, or how bad it's gotten. Just that it's moving fast and that it's like a ten year old's nightmare turned real life.

Fuck.

They came about an hour ago. I didn't expect them. I hadn't been on the internet yet by that point, just got out of the shower and started to blow dry my hair and decided that I wanted some Cocoa Puffs for breakfast. I didn't know they'd push through the windows. There's glass everywhere. And blood. It's all over the tile, on the walls, my handprints. I don't even know if the blood is mine or if it's theirs or if it's infectious.

Oh God. What if I'm infected!? What if I'm going to turn into one of them?

What do I do?

I barricaded the doors and the windows, made sure they couldn't get into the garage because the only chance I've got is sitting in there with a half tank of gas. I'm home alone and I haven't heard anything from anyone else in my family. My little sister's out on the town and there's nothing about it on the radio or the television. Just reporters telling everyone to stay calm. How the fuck are we supposed to stay calm in a situation like this!?

I grabbed my step-dad's shotgun and I'm waiting it out in my bedroom for now, searching the internet for the proper way to make a Malatov cocktail just in case. Oh God. If I end up on the move I'll update via cell phone but please, please just let me know you're okay, guys. Please.


http://myelvesaredifferent.blogspot.com/2007/05/blog-like-its-end-of-world-bliteotw.html
Tags:
 
 
Rebecca
Sometimes I just don't understand it.

Mirror, mirror, shining zeal
Call the devil, make a deal
Sell your soul for beauty's kiss
Morals, surely, you shan't miss
Drink the blood, now sip like wine
Grace and poise, you're so divine
Mirror, mirror, let it be.
This looking glass is killing me.
 
 
Current Mood: disappointeddisappointed
 
 
Rebecca
02 June 2007 @ 05:54 am
That's right, kid. It's time to let out the beast inside, the one that spends nights fantasizing about dripping blood and deadened eyes. So, stretch your claws and bare your fangs because, darling, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you don't want to wait 'til the afterlife for your second chance. Indulge the side that only emerges in spaces that the light can't touch, the one that never hurts, only laughs in the face of gross misfortune. Your fear has held it captive but the shackles start to break with each and every move you make, so give it one more shake and then the witching hour belongs to you. Dance beneath the stars and moon, in time with that barbaric tune that plays somewhere deep inside your soul. Maybe it's where the wild things are, but you will never know. You're far too busy stealing away the hearts of those that bring their white-laced lines into your view.

There, now. Doesn't it feel good? Don't worry about the bandages, we'll clean those up in the morning.
 
 
Current Mood: gloomygloomy
 
 
 
Rebecca
And suddenly all you can see is the future.


Have you ever had one of those moments where you wish you could close your eyes and just dissolve until you're nothing but a mass of particles floating on the wind, watching the world unfold before you but never having to set foot on the ground? It's not the same as flying. Flying is an escape route, a way out, a tree fort with a sign on it that says 'Boys Have Cooties' or 'No Girls Allowed.' This feeling that I'm talking about is different - it's wanting to be a shadow, not to hide in one. Not the want to die, because that's something else entirely. It's just...I don't know. I'm getting all philosophical because it's late and I'm tired. I apologize.
 
 
 
Rebecca

What does the subject line have to do with the overall topic of this entry, you ask? Why, nothing at all, of course! Because I do so love what I have recently decided to refer to as "emo-etry" (it's a pun off poetry! get it? hahahahaha) and feel the need to share it with the rest of the world.

Anyway, what I'm really here for is to share with you a list of recent life updates. Just because.


[+] am nervous as all hell
[+] am feeling surprisingly confident about myself despite said nervousness
[+] got a haircut; it's cute
[+] am attempting (successfully, thus far) to compile a portfolio to turn in to SCAD despite the fact that I've officially decided not to go there 'til the fall of '08; now if I could just tell my parents that
[+] got a new sn: clicheemophrase
[+] am going to change my myspace layout again thank you very much



So wish me luck with, you know, life and shit. And I'll see all of you later.

PS__ As is probably apparent, I have also gotten over the egging from before. I decided "Fuck it. Those kids are going to end up in jail or on heroine anyway, why should I waste my time hating them? The rest of the world will do that for me."

&& that's about it

 
 
Rebecca

This is a letter to the dumbfucks who egged my driveway last night.

Dear assholes,

First off, I'd like you to realize that the act of egging is an extremely childish pastime and is also completely pointless. Then I'd like you to realize that when you egg someone's drive, they have to clean it up later, and I'll have you know that scrubbing fucking egg off your driveway after it's hardened and rotting is not an enjoyable way to spend your Saturday morning. When I could've been watching The Boondock Saints and drinking coffee and waking up the way I like to - slowly, while watching gory movies with lots of expletives - I was outside in the sun with my dirty hose spraying at eggshells and silently cursing your pitiful souls, which made showering before I knew my driveway'd been egged a complete waste. I sincerely hope that your significant other - or that hot drunk kid you meet at a party and decide to fuck - gives you an STD. Yeah. Maybe not AIDs, because that's a little harsh, but at least crabs or something. Or, at the very least, I hope that somebody puts bologna on your "badass ride" in retaliation, because you deserve the stripped paint and the stench of rotting meat, you fucking dickwads.

Thank you.
-Becca

PS__ Whoever called me at like one? (Not you, Laub, because I didn't wake up to your call.) Not cool, dude. Seriously not cool. I really, really like my sleep. Y'all are lucky I didn't answer, because if I had it would not have been a fun experience for either of us.

&&that is all

 
 
Current Mood: pissed offreally fucking pissed
Current Music: Weezer - A Perfect Situation
 
 
Rebecca
19 May 2007 @ 09:03 am
But I have to say that late night conversations are probably my favorites. ...what the fuck am I talking about "probably?" They're definitely my favorites.

:D

Also, Suessical? Overflowing with cute to the point that I thought I might explode if I said, "Aaaaawww!" one more time. So, good job, kids. :)

&&that is all