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I need somebody/anyone who's online.

I need someone/anyone thats online!

Okay. I've been going through some shit lately at home and at school...but I was on facebook tonight and I posted the following as a comment on something: " I'm a punk rocking bitch who can play guitar like a star." I didn't think twice about it for a few moments, but then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I -just- now realized how true that is. I've had an epiphany. People STOP and LISTEN when I pick up a guitar. You know how deaf people have really good vision because their body comphensates? It's like that, for me. I can't sing or dance, but I can play just about any instrument you throw at me! It's my voice.

It's my VOICE.
It's MY voice.

EPIPHANY.

I just wanted to share that with all you lovelies on here. :3

I LOVE ALL OF YOU. No homo. Fuck, actually, I don't even know what my sexuality is for the most part, (XD) so you know what? Homo. Shitloads of homo, hetero, whatever the hell-o. I love everyone. Toxic Rocket OUT!

I don't like being shy!!!

I don't know if anyone here writes, but if you do have ever had an amazing idea for a story or character and lost it in the blink of an eye? I personally hate it. It's especially worst when your working on a project and you side track and think of another. It's probably not a big thing to worry about, but it sucks.

So I got woken up at midday by a text from my friend Michael saying "Wake upppp I'm bored! :) xxx" And after getting out of bed and getting dressed, we decided to meet in his town and go explore this abandoned house nearby with our cameras, and we did another shoot for our identity project, I really like the photos for it, so hopefully my college tutor will as well. Anyways, after that we went and met Shannon, and went to their dealers place, but they told us to meet them in the carpark behind Dominoes instead, so we did, and I'm not even kidding, the exchange between Michael and this guy was so fast I didn't even see it happen, like literally they walked about 7 metres, didn't see them make contact at all, reached a brick wall just outside the carpark, appeared to exchange numbers on their phones, and then went separate ways, at which point Mike held up this small thing wrapped in paper and plastic, and went "Oh yess!!" Like, they must be drug ninjas or something.

are about death.
I was thinking about it yesterday. I was thinking about my friend's little sister, who died when she was born. Then I thought about my baby brother, and how that could have been him. And this thought came to me.
Grieving is selfish. We all do it, it cannot be controlled, but it is selfish none the less. When you grieve, you are being sad, not for them, but for you not being able to have them anymore. When you wish that they would come back, you are wishing for them to come back from a beautiful, perfect place that they have earned their place in, to a terrible world of sadness so that you can have them again.