Dear diary.
Wow what a cheesy start to a diary entry! I don't understand how a diary is supposed to work, there doesn't seem to be much point. I guess it is best to begin as to why I have to write here anyway.
I have been having many so called, misunderstandings at school. And after a lot of parent teacher meetings they have decided to send me to a counsellor.
There I met this man named Dr Fey (weird name I know).
He сказал(-а) that I needed to find a way of expressing my feelings. That is where this diary comes in. He explained that in-order to get rid of my socialophobia (afraid of social confrontation) I have to discover еще about my own feelings.
Now that's done. Hello my name is Janet Williams. I am 15 years old and I hate people, seriously there are very few people I can actually talk to and tolerate.Hence why I was originally sent to a counsellor against my will. I have three friends. Emilia, Clarence and Amanda.
All of us are known through out our school as the 'rat pack'. The lowest, most pathetic, socially impaired rejects that have ever walked on planet Earth. Charming!
Not bothered to write any more. Write a new entry tomorrow I guess. From Janet.
(Still a stupid idea).
Wow what a cheesy start to a diary entry! I don't understand how a diary is supposed to work, there doesn't seem to be much point. I guess it is best to begin as to why I have to write here anyway.
I have been having many so called, misunderstandings at school. And after a lot of parent teacher meetings they have decided to send me to a counsellor.
There I met this man named Dr Fey (weird name I know).
He сказал(-а) that I needed to find a way of expressing my feelings. That is where this diary comes in. He explained that in-order to get rid of my socialophobia (afraid of social confrontation) I have to discover еще about my own feelings.
Now that's done. Hello my name is Janet Williams. I am 15 years old and I hate people, seriously there are very few people I can actually talk to and tolerate.Hence why I was originally sent to a counsellor against my will. I have three friends. Emilia, Clarence and Amanda.
All of us are known through out our school as the 'rat pack'. The lowest, most pathetic, socially impaired rejects that have ever walked on planet Earth. Charming!
Not bothered to write any more. Write a new entry tomorrow I guess. From Janet.
(Still a stupid idea).
Rosella
All this pain just inside...I cannot let it go.... It hurts so bad...Seeing the one Ты Любовь in the arms of another.... Each night I cry myself to sleep,just hopeing the Далее день will be even beter...But these words always run through my mind..."You're going to die alone".. It repetes and repetes...Pain ... Oh how it hurts so... But what makes it worse...That someone that's with the one my Любовь ...is my rival....Time has stopped to Ты as your tears run down slowly on my cheek.... I've Остаться в живых almost everyone in my life... It's even scary just trying to be myself....They say if Ты keep your feelings jared up...you'll snap... That's haven't happened to me yet... And hope it will never will. Don't keep your feelings jared up... или one день you'll snap
I loved to write songs. These beautiful poems of love, heartbreak, life and misery. I still do. Shame they'll never reach the world as I hoped.
But, life is life and death is well, death. I wish I could still play with Eyes Of The Wolf, my old band. I remember the lullaby I wrote for Jannet when she had nightmares.
'Prr, Prr
Of the Cat on the mat so peaceful
Cheep, Cheep
Of the Bird in the garden so alive
Neigh, Neigh
Of the Horse on the racecourse so быстрый, стремительный, свифт
Woof, Woof
Of the Pup in the tulips so playful
But now please my dear Jannet rest
So tomorrow Ты take life's Далее test'
I still sing it to her every night. But she can't hear me now. Maybe i'm just not Пение loud enough. Sometimes she hears me sing a few lines. I know because sometimes when I sing she'll start crying. I don't know why. Maybe she misses me. или maybe I scare her. I don't know. The world is a very strange place
But, life is life and death is well, death. I wish I could still play with Eyes Of The Wolf, my old band. I remember the lullaby I wrote for Jannet when she had nightmares.
'Prr, Prr
Of the Cat on the mat so peaceful
Cheep, Cheep
Of the Bird in the garden so alive
Neigh, Neigh
Of the Horse on the racecourse so быстрый, стремительный, свифт
Woof, Woof
Of the Pup in the tulips so playful
But now please my dear Jannet rest
So tomorrow Ты take life's Далее test'
I still sing it to her every night. But she can't hear me now. Maybe i'm just not Пение loud enough. Sometimes she hears me sing a few lines. I know because sometimes when I sing she'll start crying. I don't know why. Maybe she misses me. или maybe I scare her. I don't know. The world is a very strange place
The leader, Miranda, looking like she stepped from a 17 magizine, as always.
This is a song inspired by Anastasia's Once Upon a December. Also, it's the main song for my novel-in-progress, Imaginary. It's a song in which one of the main characters sings to cheer her up when she's scared. And once I finally get the story Опубликовано here, you'll actually see the depth and power and horror of the song.
Written by a friend of mine from school.
Midnight settles, darkness falls
Close your eyes and remember
Fallen Ангелы always sing
Once upon a December
Blood is flowing and it's warm,
Life's nightmares are like a storm
Demons dancing gracefully
across my memory
Broken Бабочки with torn wings
The pain they will always remember
Fallen angels, I hear them sing
Once upon a December.
Written by a friend of mine from school.
Midnight settles, darkness falls
Close your eyes and remember
Fallen Ангелы always sing
Once upon a December
Blood is flowing and it's warm,
Life's nightmares are like a storm
Demons dancing gracefully
across my memory
Broken Бабочки with torn wings
The pain they will always remember
Fallen angels, I hear them sing
Once upon a December.
Scraping at the boughs,
Unknowns becomeths known,
Where shards break across my skin as my mind is shredded into nothing.
How did I get here?
How did I become this?
How do I get out?
Trapped inside a thousand mirrors,
Seeing so many façades,
Which one is me?
Carved up and bleeding,
Happy unconscious,
Pepped up to go?
Nails scratch into my brain,
As I pick apart memories,
For a clue.
An inkling.
An idea.
Lost!
I’m so lost!
Where do I fit in anymore?
Who am I?
And how did I wind up here?
Unknowns becomeths known,
Where shards break across my skin as my mind is shredded into nothing.
How did I get here?
How did I become this?
How do I get out?
Trapped inside a thousand mirrors,
Seeing so many façades,
Which one is me?
Carved up and bleeding,
Happy unconscious,
Pepped up to go?
Nails scratch into my brain,
As I pick apart memories,
For a clue.
An inkling.
An idea.
Lost!
I’m so lost!
Where do I fit in anymore?
Who am I?
And how did I wind up here?
I slammed the car door shut, and faced the school.
"Have a good день sweetie," Mom said, somewhat hopefully from the drivers seat. Just the words made me want to ball up and cry. She drove away, leaving me in the dust. I would not survive this day.
Not that I deserve to.
I clutched my Книги to my chest, and tried to keep my eyes fixed on the ground. But I still felt their eyes on me.
"Bitch," they muttered.
"She deserves to die," others said. Didn't they know I want to? Didn't they know how much strength it took to keep breathing? And when I did, it was the everlasting pain that nearly brought me to my death. But I could only hope.
But they didn't know this. They just knew it was my fault. And it was. It was all my fault for what had happened.
And I'd live with this guilt till I die.
*****************************
Please let me know if I should continue this; I don't know if I should.
"Have a good день sweetie," Mom said, somewhat hopefully from the drivers seat. Just the words made me want to ball up and cry. She drove away, leaving me in the dust. I would not survive this day.
Not that I deserve to.
I clutched my Книги to my chest, and tried to keep my eyes fixed on the ground. But I still felt their eyes on me.
"Bitch," they muttered.
"She deserves to die," others said. Didn't they know I want to? Didn't they know how much strength it took to keep breathing? And when I did, it was the everlasting pain that nearly brought me to my death. But I could only hope.
But they didn't know this. They just knew it was my fault. And it was. It was all my fault for what had happened.
And I'd live with this guilt till I die.
*****************************
Please let me know if I should continue this; I don't know if I should.
I need to find a name for my character. She is a twelve год old girl with short, kinda boyish blonde hair. She has a curious and Mischievous personality and a tomboyish attitude. She loves Music, she plays Пианино and гитара and can play the Saxaphone really well. She is also very good in school. She has green eyes and likes to draw and write. Her main flaw is when she makes mistakes she has trouble realising that she is only human, and humans make mistakes. I am trying to find a good name but I am having a lot of trouble. Please help!
