All Blog Posts (1,202)

Hey everyone, Kitty here.

I wanted to clear up some confusion about my writing. Some of what I write seems like it's real, which is somewhat true. All my writing comes from some of my experiences and just thoughts in my head. So far, what I have posted are things I have written a while back! But I wanted to share them to see what my friends here would think. 

Although my writing implies I have issues, most of it is all fictional and just fun. I have a lot of…

My breath is coming out in ragged gasps and my heart is accelerating beyond its more comfortable pace.

"What should I do, what should I do?" I whisper to myself.

Hot tears are streaming down my face. I can hear his footsteps echoing in the hallway. The no longer sound like soft steps... everything seems even louder than usual.

My heart leaps into my throat as the doorknob squeaks as it turns. The door creaks as it opens. Stay as still as I possibly can, I watch…

Your anger scares me. It’s like a living monster in my dreams. It’s the monster in my closet, under my bed, in my heart, in my mind, in fiction, and in reality. It determines my strengths and weaknesses. My body knows when it’s around naturally, as if a predator knows its prey. It frightens me to no end, to know that your anger’s presence is around me. I will bow my head, on my knees, and beg for your forgiveness. I will make myself better. No matter what, please, don’t leave me. Your anger…

If I were a mistake, what kind of mistake would I be?

I would be the grave mistake. The kind of mistake that is always an accident, but never forgotten. The mistake that is almost impossible to forgive, no matter how much time or thought is dedicated to the matter. The mistake that everyone cringes away from, as if to make it any less real. The mistake that forever scars, emotionally and mentally. The mistake that one cannot stop, once in motion. The mistake that one knows…

What would you do if you thought you loved a person who mistreated you? How would you deal with your thoughts? Would you feel horrified knowing that even though you hate them, your thoughts keep returning to them, fondly? Could you be angry with yourself for harboring those feelings?

Sometimes my brain betrays me, loves to torment me, no matter how much I plead or beg for it to stop. It puts past traumas on repeat in my mind, sparks painful thoughts, images, and things…

Well excitement seems to be brewing in our area about "Dead on Delmarva."

A couple of weeks ago the entertainment editor for the Easton Star Democrat came to my fiance's and my home for an interview, which has been one of many. I didn't know we were going to be the front page of the weekend section!

http://www.stardem.com/weekend/

Some of the interviews were never even published, so this was a nice…

It's a day where gays, lesbians, trangenders, and even straights are heard. Or, rather, silent. For those who support, we are silent; we represent those who cannot stand up and speak, and those who have suffered hate crimes and abuse. For the braver ones, painted stitches across our mouths symbolize our silence. I am one of those people. I am silent, but not invisible. You see the paint on my face and know who I am and what I stand for. I am not beautiful or gorgeous, but on this day, I turn…

Well I went to the ER this evening and turns out I have bronchitis and not phnemonia..thank god :) bad thing is i dont have health insurance at the moment and i had to get chest xrays and stuff. Good thing:got some prescriptions...cough syrup with hydrocodine in it :D and a thing called Z-Pack. On top of it all I got me a hospital bracelet! haha ill be wearing this for about a week haha love these things.... :) 

OVERALL IT WENT WELL IM NOT GOING TO DIE!

YOU KNOW YOU'RE A ZOMBIE WHEN....

1)   It’s suddenly easy being GREEN.

2)   You start using Envy as an excuse.

3)   Your friends tell you to “Break a Leg” but you can’t because it       already fell…

Rain falls,

spin round, spin round.

Blood and bodies,

hit the ground.

Pride and wrath,

dance and fight,

on light feet

this red-hazed night.

Black winged angels,

with sharp toothed grins,

cheer on the bloodshed,

and our sins.

Dizzy now,

shots fill the air.

Bleeding wounds,

scorched black hair.

Take Death's hand,

he'll save you here.

You leave behind this…

I don't drink booze or smoke pot--it makes me feel paranoid and out of control, plus drugs are stupid. So when everyone's grinding up against one another and drunk off their asses, I'm the chick standing in the corner wondering what the hell I was doing there, trying to have fun but really just bored and tired. My cousin once took me to a party, but become pretty pissed when I told her friend to F-off when he tried to cup a feel. I don't think she got the fact that I was…

The First Stage: High school. I don't remember there ever being more or even as much drama in my life. I'd like to walk down the hall without seeing a rival or one of my more annoying friends, but of course that's impossible. And the cliques, or whatever they're called. There's the Mexicans--and some of the Mexican'ts; the stoners--who always smell like ass, potato chips, and dead skunk; the goths/emos--sometimes the guys look like the girls, the girls look like the guys, and the…