Excessive much?

I've chewed about twenty-five different places in my mouth... it's bleeding bad. i had stopped that habit, but its back now. what am I to do? im depressed. Schwa had stated we'd talk today, i havent seen any sign of him being on. why is it so hard to let go? why cant i just walk away without hurting? -falls onto bed face first- im done... im getting sick, and yes, really sick. i've vomited about ten times today, my fever is 104.1 and im sweating cold sweat yet i feel so hot... then the pains that shoot up my spine.... like icy hot knives branding their marks into my flesh. i feel terrible. i look terrible... not even a shower helped.

Just More Pain To Cope With

pain. most people don't think anything of it. but those who've experienced it over and over and over and over continuously one year straight without mercy really get ruined. take me for example. last year, i lost my son, my fiancee, my horse, my dog, and a bunch of rescues. this year, i lost the best thing ever. usually i wont cry over a lost friend or guy. i usually suck it up and move on. but schwa* leaving me hurt me the most. it hurt worse than losing my kid. it hurt worse than losing my mare, prissy. it hurt. he didnt even know he meant a lot to me. talk about a punch in the face. so i failed, once again, as a girlfriend, a friend, and a person. and the worst part? there's this terrible thought in my mind that keeps popping up. i cant tell him or anyone, because it'll just end up ruining things more. i had to end the friendship. this thought in my head would end up turning me rather rotten and i'd dig into him, causing him more pain than anything id've ever have done while with him. i hate how it keeps popping up. like now. its right there. in the front of my mind. killing me. i think i may go back to Evony if they ever open up a new server. i barely go onto VHR. equiverse still needs to be opened all the way. evony at least keeps me busy. but its always full of drama. so if i do happen to join evony, it'll be in an alliance that allows me to just lurk and not talk to anyone. no need for friends. im now going to devote myself to helping those in need. forget taking, i'll be giving. never take. i dont want anything now. nothing. no life, no soul, i dont want my heart, i dont want to be able to draw. this depression is getting bad. im typing here, where public can read it, yet do i care? no. im sick of life. im sick of pain. im tired of all this nonsense talk about love. i told myself not to fall. i told myself, i warned myself! guys are bad news. you always end up hurting. love as people call it is just another feeling. why should women need a man? sure, reproduce. all right. ever hear of artificial insemination? no need for man! how about adoption? go adopt one of those poor children instead of making more. this is bad. im hating everything right now. and art isnt helping, if anything, its making me worse. i am going to go through every file in my computer right now, and delete everything that has to do with schwa, sad as it may seem. but he is no longer mine, i have no right to any pictures of him. nothing. so ive gotta do what ive gotta do. also gotta do that with my phone. im in terrible pain. physical and emotional. i havent smiled at all in the last two days, and the one smile that schwa got was so weak im not sure if anybody saw it. it was like a twitch of the lips. and me, the one who has a dirty mind, a mindful of sex, well... not anymore. i dont make jokes like that, sex sounds disgusting right now. im feeling myself slipping away. im here physically, but my mental state is gone. its almost completely gone. ive withdrawn again... and this time, im not coming back i dont think. what little will i had left when schwa said goodbye.

NOTE: * name has been changed to protect individuality and yeah... whatever the other stuff if bla bla bla.

Practice/Meaning

Needed to practice tears. One More Sad Song by All American Rejects, though I've not actually listened to the song, It kind of matched my mood then.

I had another nightmare

I'm standing there, a single red rose dangling loosely in a hanging hand. The thorns are cutting into my palm, I know, because I can feel them. I squeeze the rose tighter, until I can feel the blood flowing through the lines of my skin, down to my nails and dripping to the floor. My eyes are unwavering. They are blank and bland. They are lifeless and dull. I'm wearing what seems to be a baggy t-shirt that is navy blue, and the jeans are torn and ripped, as if I had taken a knife to them. I'm barefoot. My hair hangs limply at my back, the ends reaching below my shoulders. Then this blinding light bursts into the dream, I shield my face, the rose going up to my head with my hand. When the light fades, I'm in this room. It's all white. No shadows, no hope. Just pure white. I fall into a sitting position, the rose is now with my hand on my knees. I sit there for who knows how long. I hear a steady drip, drip, drip, drip coming from somewhere. When I look around, I see the source. In a corner of the room, on the ceiling I'm guessing, is a dark red stain. It's dripping onto the floor. Crimson droplets splatter. The scent of blood is there. I scream, picking myself up to stand, the rose still in my hand. I turn around, and there's this image there. It's a silhouette of a man proposing to this woman... So sweet and romantic. Then it changes, they're married now, she's pregnant with a little one. It changes again, this time, they're in a court room, divorce... He leaves her for another woman, a better one. The pregnant woman is left alone. She cries, she's about six months pregnant, but she kills herself after he leaves. I back up rapidly, terrified of what the image had shown. I then remember the blood, and turn around, but it's gone. Instead, there's a curled up bundle of blankets there. I get curious, so I walk to it, and it moves. I freeze, my breathing hard and raspy. Sweat drips along my forehead, my palm is still bloodied and sore, and now swollen, from the rose thorns. The bundle moves again, then it leaps towards me. It grabs hold of me, then I see it's decaying face. Death wants to take me again. I struggle, screaming and fighting. But it's stronger than me. It keeps its hold, then it takes the rose and the rose withers away to ash... I cried at that, and somehow my brain had made me scream out a name... As if the name would save me from this dreadful beast. When I scream the name, the beast lets go, and it screams its own hideous cry. It vanishes. I am left there, with that name still ringing in my ears, still dancing on my tongue, and I whisper it two more times before I black out, and I fall. Then I wake up.

You've Always Been There To Dry My Tears

I'm not a complicated woman. I love animals, I love my family (though I don't show it), and I love myself. I own a horse... I've always owned horses, and many other animals. But horses are by far the greatest animal any girl could ever own. My horses, especially my Bob, have always been there when I'm upset. Bob is special. He knows. I try to hide it from him, but yet, he moves over to me and places his head into my arms, just cuddling. Like most women, all I want in life is a good husband, a family of kids, and a family pet. Love. I'm getting chills writing this. Love doesn't exist between a man and woman. Humans and animals can love, but only as a relationship of you give me house and food and I'll comfort you when you need it. That's what my animals do. My bonds with my animals have always been tighter than anything. And I'm proud of that. It means I can train anything to do anything. Bob though, will always hold a special place in my heart and soul. You see... on July 8, a terrible thing happened. It hurt worse than losing my son. By a mile or so. Now that's a lot. Well, I tried hard to hide it from everybody. But Bob knew. I sat in his corral with him, stroking his thick neck, staring at the ground aimlessly. Two hours went by. Then Bob placed his head onto my chest and whickered softly. He flicked his ears to face me, begging for the story. So I hugged him close and I rest my chin in between his ears as I told him everything. he didn't move a muscle during the whole thing, and I felt his warm breath on my legs. He listened. And when the tears started falling, he pulled himself away only to wrap his huge head and neck around my shoulder and pulled me close to him in a horse hug. That hug meant more than anything to me at that moment. At least I still have something to love me. To show me the love. You can't go wrong with the love of an animal. I wouldn't trade it for anything. He and all my animals have never let me down, and I don't think they ever will. They really are my true best friends. My animals have never tried leaving me, never tried to hurt me, which humans do try all the time, whether it be friends, enemies, fiancees, boyfriends, wives, husbands, or whatever, they end up hurting you. Sure an animal CAN hurt you, but they RARELY do it without provocation first.

So this image is to appreciate the gift I have been given. The chance to observe, experience, and cherish the love, companionship, trust, hope, faith, and friendship a horse can offer. They have always been there to dry my tears.

My nightmare... (1)

It's cold, so very cold. It's as if Death's very fingers are clutching my skin. The goosebumps that form are ever so prominent. I see a tunnel before me, long and dark... very tormenting. But there's a wall behind me, I have nowhere else to go but forward. So I take it one step at a time. I hear the thuds of my foot falls along the hard floor. It's not gravel, it's not asphalt or any other floor like that. It's almost as if it's glass. I don't want to look down. If I do, I know every fear of mine is down there. Every one of them will be looking up at me with red, hateful eyes. If I stop moving, they'll capture me, and pull me down with them, drowning me in a sea of fear, hard terrifying fear! So I keep walking slowly. My breathing is laboured, it's ragged and short. I don't see anything at the end of this tunnel, but the wall has followed me. It's closed me in from behind. I have no choice. My forehead is dappled with beads of sweat, my tongue traces my lips every so often. My throat is dry, it's kind of scratchy as well. How much further? My eyebrows are screwed up, forming a frown, yet my eyes, my dark brown eyes are shrouded with fear and paranoia. The feeling of claustrophobia is coming on strong. I try to usher the feeling away, but I find it impossible. Seems like my mind has stopped working. I can't think straight. A bunch of words are darting about in my mental highway. This way and that, colliding and forming new words, sentences, and the like. Something's missing. I feel so empty. I hear my heart. It's thumping so loud! It's unbearable! The thumping! The rhythm! I stumble, and I grab out to catch myself. I hear laughter. Not good laughter. It's taunting laughter, the kind you hear when being made fun of. I fall further, and I keep falling. I cover my head and face with my arms and scream. Tears begin to stain my face. But they're not normal tears. They're dyed crimson. Don't look down. Oh God, please don't let me look down. I keep screaming, my throat stripped now like sand paper, the pain numbs me. I end up looking down, and I see these flames. Black and blue, and even silver flames. I try to scream again, but now my mouth is gagged. Where'd that come from? I fight against the gag, my breathing now so laboured, sweat is pouring off my face. I keep falling, then abruptly hit something. It was a hard something. I lay there, breathing, the heat of my respiration forms a shroud of watery mist on the surface I now lay upon. Glass, apparently. The flames are right below the glass, they're licking it. But they're cold. Below freezing. I shiver, the gag still there. As I pick myself up to a sitting position, I hug myself, trying to warm up. That's when I hear something. It's breathing. Sharp, hard, and ragged as well. It's got a foul stench to it. And it's right behind me. I turn to look, and there's this huge monster, with these sharp teeth that hang out of it's mouth at a crooked angle. Its nose is shaped like a dogs, but it's the colour of blood. Its forked tongue slithers out of that dreadful smelling mouth and brushes against my face, creating a tingling feeling. I almost gag, but I hold it back. If I vomit, it wouldn't be good. It's huge, at least thirteen feet tall at the shoulder. It stands upon four legs, each the thickness of tree trunks. The claws on each of the three toes are sharp, jagged, and are green. Its coat is a black colour, with silver spots all over. The tail is at least seven feet, thick and strong, covered with more hair and barbs, probably venomous. Its eyes are the worst... Pupiless, white... empty. I struggle against myself, backing up at a speed unknown, not wanting the beast near me, but it grabs a hold of my ankle with that tongue and pulls me back. It pins me down with those talons and growls. The growl jiggles in my ear drums, so loud and sharp it's terribly painful. I flex my jaw and neck muscles, straining them so hard as well, the pain explodes. I finally hear myself scream, the gag is gone. I keep screaming, the beast only getting annoyed. It rears up, towering over me, and it crashes down, breathing heavy. I scream more, then stop suddenly. I feel the claw of the creature digging into my stomach. Hard and without mercy. Oh God the pain! It pulls its claw out and it walks away. I feel my flesh begin to get covered with my blood. I refuse to look, I'll pass out if I do. Then I feel the blood seep into my mouth, and it drips out. I have no way to escape this nasty taste. I have no way to escape Death. So I lay there, until I feel myself go limp, and my last breath was wasted upon the taste, smell, and thought of blood.

random again

it has come to my attention that i am what i hate. a jealous bastard. literally. i worry too much. way way too much. i've realized that recently. its going to be the death of me. stress, it ages the people it gets to, and its aging me just as much. to be s worried, so paranoid cant be healthy. i think i might try to get into therapy. this has to be fixed. and self-hypnosis may help for an hour or two, but the problems always come back... jealous freak. ugh.

but vegas was nice... have a newpuppy... now i dont have nthyhing to say.