Yesterday me and a fellow colleague were going back from work so went to the Bus Stop waiting for Rapid Kl bus to come. Though that time we didn't realize the time moving so we chatted awhile then got into the bus and moved on. But weirdly enough it wasn't that long a wait after all as normally the bus would only come once every hour or more.
Something I never got to understand why in such a busy area its so damn freaking hard to get a bus! In fact, the bus is so hidden that people barely notice of it's existence!
Imagine how busy a place Uptown Damansara is but with sucky public transport service!! Eventually Metro Busses are more frequent visitors there!! *smack head*
Anyways I reached Kelana Jaya at 8.15PM!! Mind it that I was off work at 6.30PM yesterday!! Yea , its that bad plus the terrible jam that always happen at the LDP for no logic reason. So from Kelana Jaya LRT I was waiting while reading a novel I borrowed from another colleague. "A Walk to Remember" and eventually I was literally halfway through when the bus even got started up!
And there was almost some fight that started off with people being really unhappy with the bus driver and lucky the station master was smart enough to come and get the bus moving though he was kinda moody as well. And not to forget the driving style! Gosh! Felt like a newbie driver on rage! Wtf?!
Finally reached back at 10plus plus and was too tired to do anything else. Ended up FFK my friends and went straight to sleep after a short chat with ma baby.
I wonder how we, the public could do to make the public transportation system to improve... Sigh
Tuesday 29 June 2010
Genre Tuesday - The Romantic Heroine
This is an article that I wrote for the Romance/Love Newsletter for Writing.com last fall. Enjoy.
The Romantic Heroine
by Stephanie Burkhart
A modern heroine has a lot to live up to. Our society is so fast paced, and yet she’s suppose to embody that perfect balance between being a woman, and living up to today’s high expectations. So what is she suppose to look like? Let’s start there.
A big element to your heroine is attractiveness, but the romantic heroine shouldn’t be drop dead gorgeous – she should be convincingly attractive to the reader.
What does that mean?
The everyday woman usually doesn’t have model looks. By weaving in realistic physical flaws you can paint a picture of any everyday romantic heroine. Perhaps she thinks she’s too tall. Or she doesn’t like her nose. She could be a plus size, or doesn’t care for her curly hair. Most women can connect with those elements. The big thing to keep in mind as you paint your heroine is to keep her self-respect intact. If she doesn’t respect herself, then how can the hero? Our heroine may not like her nose, but her self-respect for her body and her appearance can’t suffer. If it does, then she isn’t convincing as a romantic heroine.
The Qualities a Romance Heroine Embodies
For a modern reader, a romantic heroine must embody three things: an ability to connect with the reader, strength, and she must deserve the hero. Most modern writers try to deliver.
Food for thought: Have you read “The Great Gatsby” by F. Scott Fitzgerald? Think of his heroine in the story, Daisy. Written in the 1920’s, Daisy doesn’t embody the modern romantic heroine. She lacks strength and she doesn’t deserve Gatsby – yet in the 1920’s, Daisy cut a romantic figure for her contemporary audience. Nowadays, Daisy would be frowned upon.
Keep in mind romantic norms have changed over the years. Modern readers expect heroines, even those in historical, to embody modern trends. This might prove tricky in historical since women were treated differently and expected to act differently, but it is do-able to have historical heroine portray modern norms.
Connect with Readers
If the heroine can’t connect with the reader, then she isn’t convincing. Her physical appearance is only one aspect of connecting with readers. There are other aspects as well. For one: a sympathetic past. This doesn’t mean she suffered an abusive set of parents per se, but she has to be shaped by previous experiences. Was she raised by an aunt and uncle? Did she have a stern father? Was she the only girl in a family of five boys?
NOTE: The reader doesn’t need to know all about the heroine’s past in the first chapter. Reveal it slowly, over time, preferably to the hero of the story. An info dump on the heroine’s past in chapter one is a sure story killer.
Strength
Heroines don’t need to be physically strong, but they must embody an inner strength that the reader can relate it. She may have problems, but she has to have the inner strength to overcome them. She has to be able to do the right thing when the time comes.
She Must Deserve the Hero
Our hero is strong in body and character. He doesn’t lie, unless he think he’s protecting the heroine. He doesn’t steal. H e strives to do the right thing. Our heroine must embody these traits as well.
She may be looking for a romance, but she doesn’t need it. She can take care of herself. Finding Mr. Right is a bonus for her.
The same rules apply to our women as they do our romantic men. They have dignity. They’re honest. They’re tenderhearted toward their men.
So when composing a modern heroine, even a historical one, remember to be convincing, show her inner strength, and make her worthy of her man.
For my Baby~
Love Quote that really made my day today was,
Johnny's girlfriend asked him to get her roses to show her how much he'd love her. He realized if her were to buy all he'd go broke and the world would go outa stocks for Roses. So he bought 99 real roses and 1 fake rose. He gives the 99 roses and lastly when giving the last rose, he tells her that he'd love her until the last flower dies.....
This is touching. Really made my day... =)
Johnny's girlfriend asked him to get her roses to show her how much he'd love her. He realized if her were to buy all he'd go broke and the world would go outa stocks for Roses. So he bought 99 real roses and 1 fake rose. He gives the 99 roses and lastly when giving the last rose, he tells her that he'd love her until the last flower dies.....
This is touching. Really made my day... =)
~ Till you come by again~
My baby's gone back again........
It's going to be another long long wait till she's in her car again on the way to kl. How I wish it wasn't as such and I could just run to her whenever I wan to. Sigh. But still all is well as I've grown up in alot of ways since last year. More matured and trying to be more responsible of coz!
It's going to be another long long wait till she's in her car again on the way to kl. How I wish it wasn't as such and I could just run to her whenever I wan to. Sigh. But still all is well as I've grown up in alot of ways since last year. More matured and trying to be more responsible of coz!
Well that wasn't what i wanna talk about. *smack head*
Talking about this the whole time i've got ma baby here in kl its just awesome! So awesome that I could fall sleep not outa tiredness but outa comfort. I really can't explain how I feel but to cuddle someone to sleep and wake up to see their face and feeling their warmth right beside is really awesome!! Those with the experience would know i supose! *wink*
Talking about this the whole time i've got ma baby here in kl its just awesome! So awesome that I could fall sleep not outa tiredness but outa comfort. I really can't explain how I feel but to cuddle someone to sleep and wake up to see their face and feeling their warmth right beside is really awesome!! Those with the experience would know i supose! *wink*
Well though I really miss ma baby, I know I'll be seeing her soon! So I no sad ady but looking for the day when she gonna be back her!! *cuts 1 day by 1 on the calender*
Plus am gonna be getting ma very own Iphone soon too!!! Been really really dying to have one and am gonna get 1 thanks to Digi!! Mad &heart; Digi!!! XD
Would certainly put it up here to brag once i get ma hands on it!! Till i get some loop hole in during my call waitings to blog guys~
Ps: So sry guys for the rain... I supose its been raining as i broke my record as i never really posted this many blog posts ever!! This is my 7th post in June alone!!! XD
Would certainly put it up here to brag once i get ma hands on it!! Till i get some loop hole in during my call waitings to blog guys~
Ps: So sry guys for the rain... I supose its been raining as i broke my record as i never really posted this many blog posts ever!! This is my 7th post in June alone!!! XD
Monday 28 June 2010
~SATC2~
I was never a fan of SATC before. I used to think that it was a stupid show but few weeks ago i watched the series with my girlfriend. Though being as sceptical i can always be, I was still being negative on the show until i watched a few episodes, i realized that this is actually a good show.
So when my girlfriend told me that the SATC 2 was coming out, I was hoping to catch it with her as i dunno with who else could i got for the show. She eventually replied saying She'd Never Watch It with Me! T___T
So i was hoping that maybe after that we'd get a DVD eventually and watch it together again. Somehow luck was on my side as last sunday we went to watch it!
So when my girlfriend told me that the SATC 2 was coming out, I was hoping to catch it with her as i dunno with who else could i got for the show. She eventually replied saying She'd Never Watch It with Me! T___T
So i was hoping that maybe after that we'd get a DVD eventually and watch it together again. Somehow luck was on my side as last sunday we went to watch it!
And yea it was as expected as awesome as i hoped it would be. It was never a let down as I didn't really get much chance to catch any of the wanted to watch movies this year, it was a nice experience. The story which evolves around the below 4 ladys
It was really hillarious with how the whole story was but I really salute the whole storyline as it was just awesome! Wouldn't mind watching it the 2nd time as this movie actually taught me alot of things.
From my opinion this is a must watch movie for the young adults as there alot of valuable morale values that our community lacks at the moment! Personally this actually taught me to see things on a different angle when its regarding my girlfriend. I learned how to deal with tight situations.
Plus wardrobe chosen for the movie!! OMG!!! AWESOME X100!!! The dresses they used sometimes makes me wonder what the HECK such dresses for certain activities but they totally proved me wrong with the way they actually carried themselves with those outfits!!!
GOSH!! Still remember the whole storyline in ma head!! *blush*
Note from me! DO WATCH IT IF YOU HAVEN'T yet!! Thanks to my baby darling who actually didn't mind to bring me along.
Though we made it look like a camping as we bought food worth RM28!!! while the movie was only RM18!! XDD
but the food supplies ran off not even 15mins through the movie.... =(
More post bout ma past weekend would be coming up soon!!! Stay Tuned Readers!!
From my opinion this is a must watch movie for the young adults as there alot of valuable morale values that our community lacks at the moment! Personally this actually taught me to see things on a different angle when its regarding my girlfriend. I learned how to deal with tight situations.
Plus wardrobe chosen for the movie!! OMG!!! AWESOME X100!!! The dresses they used sometimes makes me wonder what the HECK such dresses for certain activities but they totally proved me wrong with the way they actually carried themselves with those outfits!!!
GOSH!! Still remember the whole storyline in ma head!! *blush*
Note from me! DO WATCH IT IF YOU HAVEN'T yet!! Thanks to my baby darling who actually didn't mind to bring me along.
Though we made it look like a camping as we bought food worth RM28!!! while the movie was only RM18!! XDD
but the food supplies ran off not even 15mins through the movie.... =(
More post bout ma past weekend would be coming up soon!!! Stay Tuned Readers!!
Excerpt Monday - Destination: Berlin
My JULY BLOG tour for DESTINATION: BERLIN kicks off this FRIDAY at Diane Craver's Blog on 2 JUL. I hope to see you there. In ancticipation of the tour, here's a nice little teaser for the novel.
ABOUT THE BOOK:
Stuck in a routine job in Cold War Germany guarding nuclear weapons. U.S. Army Corporal Sharon Cates thinks she is going to Berlin to attend an orientation tour. Unknown to her, the briefcase she carries contains top-secret information that the Stasi and KGB are willing to kill for.
Russian Junior Sergeant Dimitri Nagory is an assistant to a high-ranking Soviet officer in his country’s embassy in England. Dimitri isn’t expecting a great adventure as she boards the duty train for a routine trip to headquarters in Berlin, and he certainly isn’t expecting to meet any Americans.
The Stasi derail the train in the middle of East Germany, expecting to take the information from Sharon’s dead body, but when the sudden explosion hurls Sharon and Dimitri from the train and into each other’s arms, can they find their way to Berlin before the Stasi do?
EXCERPT:
Spies. Espionage. Danger. The Berlin duty train hinted at it all, as it carried the four allies between the West and occupied Berlin. Corporal Sharon Cates was high on the potential thrill, but her military common sense kept her anchored to the fact that hints rarely ever gave way to facts.
She walked through the doors and into the duty train’s dining car, wearing her class “A” uniform. It was relatively empty. A lone concession window was open selling coffee and brötchen. She bought a cup and sat down next to a window. It was dark outside, and she couldn’t see much. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was two o’clock. Sharon knew she should be asleep, but she was too excited. Soon she’d be in Berlin, and she was thrilled. Going to Berlin would be stepping into living history. She put her briefcase on the table and took out a guidebook to Berlin, thumbing through it as she drank her coffee.
A faint creak pierced the air. When Sharon looked up, she spied a Soviet soldier also buying a cup of coffee. A warm shiver slid down her spine. After all, she knew the Soviets also used the duty train; she just thought she’d never see one. He was tall and filled out his uniform well. From the markings on his uniform, she gathered he was a non-commissioned officer, but that was all. To her surprise, he approached her booth.
“Good morning, Corporal. I am Junior Sergeant Dimitri Nagory of the Soviet Army. May I join you?”
Sharon looked up. He was talking to her—in English! She motioned to him to have a seat.
Dimitri sat down and smiled. “If you don’t mind my asking, what’s your name, Corporal?”
“ Sharon,” she answered, as distantly as possible. She never thought she’d meet a Soviet soldier on the Berlin Duty Train. This felt like a page out of a LeCarre spy novel. “Sharon Cates.”
“Is this your first time on the duty train?” he asked.
Sharon stared at him. Nosey Soviet. Cpt. Heathers had cautioned her about them during her security briefing.
“Because it is the first time I have seen you,” Dimitri continued, sipping his coffee.
“Ah, yes,” Sharon finally answered. Should she finally entertain those thoughts of espionage and secret spy scenarios? “It’s my first trip to Berlin,” she added.
“I see. Are you attending the Berlin Orientation Tour?”
“How did you know?”
“Most of the Americans I see on the train travel to Berlin for that purpose,” Dimitri explained, grinning.
“If you don’t mind my asking, why are you on the train?” Despite the desire to keep her composure, her lips curved into an inquisitive smile.
“I work in the Soviet embassy in London. My headquarters are in East Berlin. I travel between London and Berlin every two weeks,” he answered.
“And you can tell me that?” she asked, raising a surprised eyebrow.
“It’s common knowledge,” he added.
“Do you make it a habit to talk to Americans on the train?” Sharon asked.
“No, I don’t. I usually sleep in my train car, but I haven’t had much to eat today so they let me out to do that,” he replied.
“Touché,” she said curtly. “So, Jr. Sgt. Nagory, what do you do in your army?”
THE BOOK:
The book is “sweet” by romance standards as Sharon and Dimitri, enemies due to their armies, are forced to rely on each other to get to Berlin.
Book Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cuav1ZTlWOA
You can buy the book at:
http://www.iuniverse.com (search the bookstore for Destination: Berlin)
and at:
http://www.amazon.com/Destination-Berlin-S-Cardin/dp/0595164196/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1261846072&sr=1-2
REVIEWS:
A tautly written military adventure.” – Midwest Book Review
There's a little bit of everything mixed into this story. There's history, adventure, suspense, romance and of course so military jargon. The author does a good job though, of simplifying the military lingo, so that it never becomes a burden to understand. The story flows well, and moves along quickly. If you're looking for a good story to keep you occupied for a night or two, I'd highly recommend this one. – Book of the Moment Reviewer
Destination Berlin is a military thriller that will have you on the edge of your seat from beginning to end. - Starrstruck
"Destination: Berlin," kept my rapt attention from the first page through to the last though. As I finished the story I realized with a smile that I actually quite enjoyed it." - 4 Stars, Book of the Moment, Reviewer.
"Inspired by the author's own experiences taking a trip to Berlin, serving the Army's Military Police Corps, and studying history, Destination Berlin is a tautly written saga of mistrust, determination, and survival." - 5 Stars, Midwest Book Review.
Sunday 27 June 2010
My Baby's Bday gift~
Been wondering what gift that I could give her for this year's birthday as last year gave her a pair of earings just to find out that she doesn't use those. =( So I was left pondering what excatly would be the best give that could lid her up like the sky when a big comet passes through. And after months of ponderings and all, decided that sunflower would be the best gift as I know that she madly loves sunflowers and roses.
So far I've only got her 1 rose and that experience is something that I'd rather not mention. *smack head* So this year I decided to give her suprise so I went and bought her a sunflower as gift!
Here is the flower!
Gosh must have seen her face when she saw it!! She was so so happy that it was all the I needed to see! Wish had taken a pic of her face when she saw it!
Best gift ever I could have ever received! But that wasn't all I saved a card for the last suprise but BUMMER!! I forgot to take the pic of that card!!! BuawWww~!
And again her face lid up again like a baby who just saw her mum!! XD SO CUTE!!!
and yea received a nice warm warm hug with a peck!! *hyper*
But the sad part is that, she went back today.... T____T
More post to come on our latest weekend adventure coming up!!! XD
So far I've only got her 1 rose and that experience is something that I'd rather not mention. *smack head* So this year I decided to give her suprise so I went and bought her a sunflower as gift!
Here is the flower!
Gosh must have seen her face when she saw it!! She was so so happy that it was all the I needed to see! Wish had taken a pic of her face when she saw it!
Best gift ever I could have ever received! But that wasn't all I saved a card for the last suprise but BUMMER!! I forgot to take the pic of that card!!! BuawWww~!
And again her face lid up again like a baby who just saw her mum!! XD SO CUTE!!!
and yea received a nice warm warm hug with a peck!! *hyper*
But the sad part is that, she went back today.... T____T
More post to come on our latest weekend adventure coming up!!! XD
Saturday 26 June 2010
The Last 5 Books I Read
I know this is supposed to be "History" Saturday, but I'd thought I'd make it free day. hehe.
I just got a review back for "The Hungarian" from Coffee Time Romance and I thought a tidbit with you:
Danielle, Reviewer
3 CUPS
"Ms. Burkhart tells this tale in such a voice that we can practically feel the waves of emotions both characters are feeling coming off the pages."
Here's a link to the review: http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookReviews/thehungarianbystephanieburkhart.html
3 CUPS is "A Good Read" with Coffee Time and I'm thrilled to be reviewed by them.
****
I just checked Barnes & Noble and "The Hungarian" is the #1 Bestseller for Desert Breeze Books over there. 2nd time this week. hehe.
****
Here's the last 5 BOOKS I read:
5 - Prime Suspect by Melanie Atkins. This is a romantic suspense. Atkins writing is thrilling.
4 - Thin Ice by Liana Laverentz. This is a contemporary romance and centers around the sport of hockey. I enjoy hockey and I thought Laverentz did a great job bring the sport to life.
3 - Knight of Glory by Nicole Zoltack. This is a fantasy romance. I love Nicole's imagination. It really shines. I love the creativity in the story.
2 - No Other by Shawna Williams. This is an inspirational romance. It's very edgy for inspiratational, at least I thought so, and that's what really appealed to me as I was reading it.
3 - Outcasts by Gail Delaney. I am addicated to Beverly and Victor. I love this couple. Tortured and Romantic. Thumbs Up I am a fan of Delaneys Phoenix Rebellion series. This is a sci-fi speculative romance.
****
I just finished Gaining Ground by Delany, book 3 in the Phoenix Rebellion and I'll be tackling PI Barrington's Miraculous Deception next. After that, Protect the Heart by LK Hunsaker.
Share your books with me today! What are you reading? What have you read? What do you enjoy.
Smiles
Steph
Friday 25 June 2010
Wednesday 23 June 2010
Review for "The Hungarian"
By: RmceWtr, Posted on Barnes & Noble 6 JUN 2010
5 Stars
Generally speaking, I'm not a paranormal fan... which is why I was surprised to enjoy THE HUNGARIAN by Stephanie Burkhart as much as I did.
I don't enjoy books that make werewolves little more than pack animals, driven solely by the most basic animal instincts. THE HUNGARIAN is different. Burkhart takes the focus off the animal, placing to fully and wholly on the man. Her writing is vivid, her historical detail used to paint a beautiful image of the time and place.
She draws you into the emotion of the story, and the beauty of the love between Mathias and Katherine. If you enjoy werewolf/paranormal stories, this is an absolute winner. But then again, if you're not necessarily a paranormal fan -- but a fan of a deeply emotional romance -- you could very well enjoy it still.
Tuesday 22 June 2010
Second Chances: I Will Never Take You For Granted Again
The following story was written for entertainment purposes only. It is a fictional work derived from the mind of the writer and in no way should be taken as a factual account of any past or planned event. Anyone mentioned in this story is done so in a fictional fashion. Any names used are purely coincidental and does not mean that the characters have any life outside the writer’s imagination.
I strongly advise you to only read what you are personally comfortable with. I will not feel personally responsible for any discomfort you feel after reading my post since I have given you ample warning to its content. Once again the following post is meant to be read by mature audiences capable of making consensual decisions. If this is not you please stop reading immediately.
……
…....
I stood staring out the window waiting as I had done so many evenings before. He was late again but this was really no surprise; he is late frequently. In fact Jay rarely ever arrived home on time. I normally do not allow myself to get angry about it because love helps people accept your lover’s inadequacies, but this night as I watched my ice cream cake melt and the lasagna grow cold I lost myself in anger. I knew my anger would never change anything but it felt good to lose myself in the passionate fury.
As I stood there in my lace lingerie and high heeled shoes I thought about how many times he had been late over the last year but it was always with a good excuse. Minutes turned into an hour as my high heeled shoes impatiently tapped against the hardwood floors.
Finally I heard a car outside and then a knock on the door. I thought he must have forgotten his key and ran to the door to answer it. Two men in full military uniform were standing at my front door. I grab the curtain to hide my body. They introduce themselves to me and I reciprocated. I didn’t hear anything after the older man said, “Dreadfully sorry ma’am…” I stood there still half dressed with the curtain across my half naked body.
Just as the men walked away my cell phone rings and he is on the other end. “I was called into a last minute meeting sweetheart. I will be home soon.” Now the man’s words came to me clearly, “Dreadfully sorry ma’am to inconvenience you. We have the wrong address.” I watched in deep sorrow as the car pulled into my neighbor’s driveway; however I felt like I was given a second chance to show him how much I love him and leave the petty jealousies and anger behind. Isn’t life really so much more valuable to me than cold food? I can always warm it in the microwave but once he is gone that is forever.
I was waiting for him at the door as he arrived. I wrapped myself around him as he carried me through the house removing his uniform as we went. I remained wrapped around him the rest of the night as I held him tighter than ever before. This day was a turning point in our relationship and I will never take him for granted again. I am a very lucky woman to have him in my life and I will never forget that again.
I strongly advise you to only read what you are personally comfortable with. I will not feel personally responsible for any discomfort you feel after reading my post since I have given you ample warning to its content. Once again the following post is meant to be read by mature audiences capable of making consensual decisions. If this is not you please stop reading immediately.
……
…....
I stood staring out the window waiting as I had done so many evenings before. He was late again but this was really no surprise; he is late frequently. In fact Jay rarely ever arrived home on time. I normally do not allow myself to get angry about it because love helps people accept your lover’s inadequacies, but this night as I watched my ice cream cake melt and the lasagna grow cold I lost myself in anger. I knew my anger would never change anything but it felt good to lose myself in the passionate fury.
As I stood there in my lace lingerie and high heeled shoes I thought about how many times he had been late over the last year but it was always with a good excuse. Minutes turned into an hour as my high heeled shoes impatiently tapped against the hardwood floors.
Finally I heard a car outside and then a knock on the door. I thought he must have forgotten his key and ran to the door to answer it. Two men in full military uniform were standing at my front door. I grab the curtain to hide my body. They introduce themselves to me and I reciprocated. I didn’t hear anything after the older man said, “Dreadfully sorry ma’am…” I stood there still half dressed with the curtain across my half naked body.
Just as the men walked away my cell phone rings and he is on the other end. “I was called into a last minute meeting sweetheart. I will be home soon.” Now the man’s words came to me clearly, “Dreadfully sorry ma’am to inconvenience you. We have the wrong address.” I watched in deep sorrow as the car pulled into my neighbor’s driveway; however I felt like I was given a second chance to show him how much I love him and leave the petty jealousies and anger behind. Isn’t life really so much more valuable to me than cold food? I can always warm it in the microwave but once he is gone that is forever.
I was waiting for him at the door as he arrived. I wrapped myself around him as he carried me through the house removing his uniform as we went. I remained wrapped around him the rest of the night as I held him tighter than ever before. This day was a turning point in our relationship and I will never take him for granted again. I am a very lucky woman to have him in my life and I will never forget that again.
I Am Happy On the Outside But Dying Inside
THIS IS A STORY I READ ONLINE JUST WANTED TO SHARE IT.
I know this is long, but please read. It truly helps you to understand those of us who feel this way...
Don't hold strong opinions about things you don't understand.
My time has come, and so I'm gone. To a better place, far beyond. I love you all as you can see. But it's better now, because I'm free.
Sometimes you need to run away just to see who will follow you.
It's hard to answer the question "what's wrong" when nothing is right.
I'm tired of trying, sick of crying, I know I've been smiling, but inside I'm dying.
Maybe one day it will be ok again. That's all I want. I don't care what it takes. I just want to be ok again.
When I was younger crying always seemed to be the answer. Now that I'm older crying seems to be the only option.
I guess there comes a point where you just have to stop trying because it hurts too much to hold on anymore.
You say I'm always happy, and that I'm good at what I do, but what you'll never realize is, I'm a damn good actress too.
Just because I'm smiling doesn't mean I'm happy.
Tired of living and scared of dying.
I don't necessarily want to be happy; I just want to stop feeling miserable.
Don't fall into the trap of pretending everything's fine when you know it isn't.
The hardest years in life are those between ten and seventy.
I'm just learning how to smile, and that's not easy to do.
Sometimes it hurts more to smile in front of everyone, then to cry all alone.
I want to be remembered as the girl who always smiled. The one who could brighten up your day, even if she couldn't brighten her own.
Just when I thought my life was coming together, I realized it was just starting to fall apart.
Stop the world. I wanna get off.
I bleed for you that's why I cut those simple scars are just deep thoughts.
You bleed just to know you’re alive.
Death is God's way of saying “you're fired”. Suicide is human’s way of saying “you can't fire me, I quit”.
I don't know what I want in life. I don't know what I want right now. All I know is that I'm hurting so much inside that it's eating me, and one day, there won't be any of me left.
Everything that ever caused a tear to trickle down my cheek, I ran away and hid from it. But now, everything is unwinding and finding its way back to me. And I don't know what to do. I just know that pain I felt so long ago; it's hurting ten times more.
It's the loneliest feeling in the world - to find yourself standing up when everyone else is sitting down. To have everybody look at you and say "what's the matter with her?" I know what it feels like. Walking down an empty street, listening to the sound of your own footsteps. Shutters closed, blinds drawn, doors locked against you. And you aren't sure whether you're walking toward something, or if you're just walking away.
You start life with a clean slate. Then you begin to make your mark. You face decisions, make choices. You keep moving forward. But sooner or later there comes a time where you look back over where you have been and wonder who you really are.
I don't know if I'm getting better or just used to the pain.
I know it seems like I'm this strong person who can get though anything, but inside I'm fragile. I've had so many things thrown at me, and each one has only made a crack. What I'm afraid of is shattering.
Maybe I am crazy but laughing makes the pain pass by.
I love sleep. My life has this tendency to fall apart when I'm awake.
I know what its like to want to die; how it hurts to smile; how you try to fit in but you can't; how you hurt yourself on the outside; to try to kill the thing that's in the inside.
Even the people who never frown eventually break down.
How can you understand me when I can't understand myself?
I hate what I have become to escape what I hated being.
It's like I realized that way down inside, I've always been lonely for something. But I don't know what for. It's like everybody in the world wants something. Only they never really know exactly what it is - they just keep finding out what it's not. You know how, when you turn off the TV or you come out of some concert, and everything just feels empty? Like you thought that would be what you wanted, and then it wasn't?
You look at me and think, 'she's so happy' but there's so much behind this little smile that you will never know.
Do you ever have those times you cry and you don't know why?
People are always telling me to smile, like smiling is going to just take away all the hurt and pain. Well I've tried that I've tried hiding my sorrows and covering the sadness in smiles and what I've learned is that when it hurts this much inside your heart always has a way of showing it no matter how many masks you wear.
Let no one think I gave in.
The pain is there to remind me that I'm still alive.
It seems to me that the harder I try the harder I fall.
Refuse to feel anything at all, refuse to slip, refuse to fall, can't be weak, can't stand still, and watch your back because no one else will.
There's no excuse for the need to take your own life away, everyone passes through some rough obstacles in life, just face them as they come along, there's always a way to overcome those obstacles, and learn from your experiences.
If you can't solve it, it isn't a problem--its reality. And sometimes reality is the hardest thing to understand and the thing that takes the longest to realize. But once it hits you in the face you'll never forget it. It will always be there in your memories and sometimes that is the best way to look at it.
It's funny the way you can get used to the tears and the pain.
What do you do when you become too scared, too scared to live, too scared to die, too scared to love, too scared to even care?
You can't just hug me and say it's okay because right now... it doesn't feel that way…
Sometimes the littlest thing in life changes something forever and there will be times when you wish you can go back to how things used to be but you just can't because things have changed so much.
I just wish I could roll back the clocks to when things were the same... then we were all just a bunch of crazy teenagers looking for a wild time. But now, thing aren't the same. Each of us has gone our different ways. We change, people change, things just change, and we aren't those crazy teenagers looking for a wild time anymore. We're teenagers looking for a person to love and a person to hug when we're in need.
Sometimes I think that if I wasn't so good at pretending to be, I'd be better at actually being happy.
Her sadness did not have that. It dripped slowly into her life without her noticing it; at least, not noticing it until it consumed her fully and smothered her with darkness.
I quit, I give up, nothing's good enough for anybody else, it see... when I’m all alone its best way to be. When I'm by myself nobody else can say good-bye. Everything is temporary anyway.
Everybody's searching for a hero. People need someone to look up to. I never found anyone who fulfilled my need... a lonely place to be, and so I learned to depend on me.
Pain is your friend, it tells you when you're seriously injured, it keeps you awake and angry but the best thing about it is it lets you know that you're alive.
I have a tendency to hurt myself physically, when I'm hurting inside.
When your sure you've had enough of this life... don't let yourself go... because everybody cries... everybody hurts sometimes... sometimes everything is wrong.
Some of us are just trying to get through the day without falling apart.
Every night before I go to sleep I lie on my bed and stare up at my blank walls. I try to imagine the future, but right now it's as blank as those walls. All I can see is a past that I barely recognize any more.
I don't want the world to see me, because I don't think that they'd understand.
Look at me. You may think you see who I really am, but you'll never know me.
There's a smile on my face but I don't know why it's there... I put it on to satisfy all the people that don't even care.
I'm often silent when I am screaming inside.
The deepest people are the ones who've been hurt the most.
Someone once asked me, 'Why do you always insist on taking the hard road?' I replied, 'Why do you assume I see two roads?'
Wear a mask that grins and lies, it hides our cheeks and shades our eyes. The debt we pay to human guile, with torn and broken hearts, we smile.
Sometimes I feel like nobody has held me down and forced me to cry or made me hug them, or seen to the inside of me. I just say 'oh I'm fine' and walk away. Nobody's ever said to me 'no, you're not'.
Do you ever get that feeling where you don't want to talk to anybody? You don't want to smile and you don't want to fake being happy. But at the same time you don't know exactly what's wrong either. There isn't a way to explain it to someone who doesn't already understand. If you could want anything in the world it would be to be alone. People have stopped being comforting and being alone never was. At least when you're alone no one will constantly ask you what is wrong and there isn't anyone who won't take 'I don't know' for an answer. You feel the way you do just because. You hope the feeling will pass soon and that you will be able to be yourself again, but until then all you can do is wait.
Some people try to understand, but nobody can know what living like this is like.
You never know when you wake up, if all will be the same, or if you'll be back in your dark place, again to feel the pain.
No one can see the pain what we hide, they're happy for us to keep it inside, our fear is our own; they don't want to know. Why should we involve them; why should it show.
Our generation has had no Great war, no Great Depression. Our war is spiritual. Our depression is our lives.
So drop the little razor, and pick up your life, forget all the bad things, the pain and the strife.
I'm not my usual self being quiet and lonely isn't 'me' crying all night, acting all day this isn't how it's supposed to be.
I'm hurting so bad inside I just wish you could see... I'm struggling to be someone that isn't even close to me.
Beware the person who has nothing to lose.
In the end, music is your only friend.
When your going thru hell... it's best to just keep on going...
What's the point in screaming? No one is listening anyway.
I'm young and I'm hopeless... I'm lost and I know this... I'm going nowhere fast... that's what they say... I'm troublesome, I've fallen... I'm angry at my Father... it's me against this world and I don't care.
She's not the kind of girl who likes to tell the world about the way she feels about herself.
Did it surprise you that I am not who you thought I was? Did it surprise you to find that I don't exactly stand for what you thought I stood for all along? Did it surprise you to find that I'm not exactly how I played myself out to be? That the person you thought I was is actually nothing to what I am.
Everyone sees who I appear to be but only a few know the real me, you only see what I choose to show there's so much behind my smile you just don't know.
I like having low self-esteem it makes me feel special.
Take it from someone who's fallen... it's a long way down.
They say you need to pray, if you want to go to heaven. But they don't tell you what to say when your whole life has gone to hell.
The only thing standing between me and total happiness is reality.
The beautiful thing about music is when it hits you, you fell no pain.
True strength is holding it together when everyone else would understand if you fall apart.
The only thing worse then being hated is being ignored. At least when they hate you they treat you like you exist.
There is something beautiful about all scars of whatever nature. A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed and healed, done with.
Rock bottom is good solid ground, and a dead end street is just a place to turn around.
She is the quietest kind of rebel.
She could shut out the whole world, including herself.
Our scars have the power to remind us that the past is real.
Nothing can stop me now because I don't care anymore.
In that one instance I hated everyone in my life, everyone and everything, and me most of all.
She was like a flower that had been battered by a storm, but not quite destroyed. Gradually, she began to strengthen and bloom again.
She was a girl who knew how to be happy even when she was sad and that's important you know.
I'll fake all the smiles, if it stops all the questions.
Behind this innocent smile of mine, lay words left unsaid. Words of longing, love, anger, and hate, all repeated inside my head.
I've been a loser all my life. I'm not about to change. If you don't like it, there's a door. Nobody made you stay.
But its ironic because that's how I live my life. I smile on the outside, and everyone thinks I'm doing fine but I'm always dying inside, always one step away from the edge you know? I can't be happy to be who I am because I don't know who I am anymore.
Be patient and tough; some day this pain will be useful to you.
I just realized that were all a bunch of actresses and we've fooled everyone into believing that we're all okay... I'm just waiting for the day when I can convince myself of that.
I smile, I smile all the time, and you’re just not around to see it.
I just like playing games with people, I always hope there'll be someone smart enough to see through me but you're all so stupid.
I'm so happy, cause today I found my friends, they're in my head.
I wouldn't be surprised if I was voted most likely to kill everyone at a high school dance.
I'd rather hang out with the losers that would sit and smoke a cigarette than the ones who wanted to throw a baseball.
All rock music is good as long as it has passion and feeling.
If you die you're completely happy and your soul somewhere lives on. I'm not afraid of dying. Total peace after death, becoming someone else is the best hope I've got.
QUIET! I can't hear you & all the voices in my head at the same time!
If you hold back your feelings because you are afraid of getting hurt, you end up hurting anyway.
Not all scars show. Not all wounds heal. Sometimes you can't always see the pain someone feels.
When you quit fearing pain, when you learn to love the pain, you will lose all fear of everything.
Just because some people don't cry, doesn't mean they're not suffering.
I cut to prove to you that you are not the only one that can hurt me.
The sky isn't always blue. The sun doesn't always shine. So it's okay to fall apart sometimes.
You do it to yourself... and that's why it really hurts.
I used to have many faults, not I have only two - everything I say and everything I do...
I've come to the point where nothing matters anymore, and things I used to care about aren't worth fighting for.
I am not what I ought to be, not what I want to be, but I am thankful that I am better than I used to be...
Those who say sunshine brings happiness have never danced in the rain.
I'm not afraid of the gun in my hand, I'm not afraid of dying, I'm just afraid of the pain it will bring, and to see my best friends crying.
Are you running away from something you don't want? Or running away from something you're afraid to want?
I wear my scars proudly. They represent the battles through which I have gone, and I am proud because those battles I have won.
You have no idea what I can do.
The insane are sane and the sane are insane in a world of craziness.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that the moment one area of your life starts going okay, another part of it falls spectacularly to pieces.
I believe in whatever gets you through the night. Night is the hardest time to be alive. For me, anyway. It lasts so long, and four am knows all my secrets. Four am is when my dreams die.
No matter what you do or say, there's nothing that you can do to make people understand you.---Kurt Cobain
Damaged people are dangerous, they know they know they can survive.
People dislike alcoholics, but they still drink at parties. People sit in non-smoking section in restaurants, but still enjoy the occasional nicotine jolt. People have strong feelings against self-injurers, but they also take all their emotions out on other people.
Such a pretty girl, happy in an ugly place. Watching all the pretty people do lots of ugly things.
The apple fall far from the tree she's rotten and so beautiful I'd like to keep her here with me and tell her that she's beautiful she takes the pills to fall asleep and dreams that she's invisible tormented dreams she stays awake recalls when she was capable...
Without pain, there would be no suffering, with out suffering we would never learn from out mistakes. To make it right, pain and suffering is the key to all windows, without it, there's no way of life.
If I would kill myself tonight, who would remember me tomorrow?
No more joy - No more sadness - No emotion - Only madness. I can't see. I don't feel. I can't touch. I don't heal.
There's a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line.
Skin is beautiful, don't ruin it with scars just because your life isn't as beautiful. For once life becomes beautiful to you again, your skin wont be so beautiful anymore.
Life it seems, will fade away drifting further every day getting lost within myself nothing matters no one else I have lost the will to live simply nothing more to give.
I am sad but I'm laughing.
Everybody knows that something's wrong but nobody knows what's going on.
We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven't you?
The question isn't 'who is going to let me'; it's 'who is going to stop me'.
And sometimes I have really bad day... when, you know, I just want to hide or scream or bleed or something...
Scar tissue has no character. It's not like skin. It doesn't show age or illness or pallor or tan. It has no pores, no hair, no wrinkles. It's like a slip cover. It shields and disguises what's beneath. That's why we grow it; we have something to hide.
I only smile in the dark.
Every so often I want to dig my fingernails underneath my skin and peel off the face everybody's so used to seeing me in. Every so often I want people to know that I'm not as okay as they think I am.
It wasn't a suicide attempt, it was an escape from everything awful. When we cut, we're in control - we make our own pain and we can stop it whenever we want. Physical pain relieves mental anguish. For a brief moment, the pain of cutting is the only thing in the cutter's mind, and when that stops and the other comes back, it is weaker. Drugs do that too, and sex, but not like cutting. Nothing is like cutting.
To be loved to madness - such was her great desire. Love was to her the one cordial that could drive away the eating loneliness of her days.
These cuts are leaving creases. Trace the scars, to fit the pieces, to tell your story, you don't need to say a word.
Who am I? I am who I say I am and tomorrow someone else entirely.
A pill to make you numb, a pill to you make you dumb, a pill to make you anybody else, but all the drugs in this world won’t save her from herself.
We're all quite mad here. Ha... ha ha ha ha ha! You may have noticed that I'm not all there myself.
If you don't like the way I am, then don't come around me. If you don't like the way that I talk, then don't listen. If you don't like the way I dress, then don't look. But don't waste my time telling me about it. I don't care.
Reality has exiled me; I am no longer bound by it's laws.
Sometimes you can cry until there is nothing left wet in you. You can scream and curse to where your throat rebels and ruptures. You can pray all you want to whatever god you think will listen. And still, it makes no difference. It goes on, with no sign as to when it might release you. And you know that if it ever did relent... it would not be because it cared.-Johnny the Homicidal Maniac
Sometimes I sit and watch the ink leak from my pen. It comforts me to know something else bleeds the way I do.
It's an interesting feeling, really, to scroll through all the numbers in your phone, and realize that there is no one who will understand.
My skin is burnt but it heals my heart, with growing pride I’ll wear my scars, I am honored by you hate.--- Tera
I guess for some people its always a little easier to appreciate the rainy days instead of sunny days...
I've lived in this place and I know all the faces. Each one is different, but they're always the same. They mean me no harm but its time that I face it, they'll never allow me to change... But, I never dreamed home would end up where I don't belong... I'm moving on.
Where ever I am I always find myself looking out the window wishing I was somewhere else.---Angelina Jolie
There's something about death that is comforting. The thought that you could die tomorrow frees you to appreciate your life now---Angelina Jolie
Without pain, there would be no suffering, without suffering we would never learn from our mistakes. To make it right, pain and suffering is the key to all windows, without it, there is no way of life.---Angelina Jolie
Do you remember the days when you were a child and simply running outside made you happy? What happened to them?
There's a girl in my mirror crying tonight and there's nothing I can tell her to make her feel alright...
I can't stop crying... I don't understand, and it's not the loud, screaming crying... it's just the tears continuously roll down my face, and I can't do anything to stop them.
Someday I'll fly away.
I can't get my wrists to bleed, just don't know why suicide appeals to me. - Alice Cooper
This isn't a perfect world. People do get hurt. You smile when you feel like crying. You act like you're ok, when you're falling apart inside. And you try to let go, you try to move on, because you know there's nothing else you could do.
I have no clue why I do what I do. It feels good to have cold metal press against my skin as my problems tear at my soul. The blood drips softly and I cry silently. No one will ever understand me except for other people like me.
Close your eyes, and imagine 5, 10, 15 years from now. You are with your husband and maybe 2, 3 or so kids and your a very happy family, and very self-full-filled and your life is perfect just the way you had always dreamed and hoped, and then your little 5 year old child asks you: "mommy, why do you have all those white scars on your arm?" and then what will you say? I used to take a razor and pull it down real slow and carefully and watch the blood drop out of my skin so that I could see that I am still alive, or so I could feel real physical pain instead of emotional pain. No you can't say that to your child. And even if you do then your child will learn from you and do the same to them whenever they are feeling down. You don't really want that, now do you.
What you think is what you are. What you peruse becomes your reality.
You ask why I say nothings wrong when really everything is. You should know what wrong. You’re my friends, you’re making bad decisions and its killing me to see you suffer like you are. You just never see how what your doing effects me because you don’t care enough to look and see.
I cry then I cut, then I cry again, it never ends.
I was lost. There was nobody for me to talk to about all that you were troubling me with. So I sat alone, with everything inside, and cried myself to sleep.
When you talk about feelings, words were too stiff, they were this and not that, they couldn't include all the meanings. In defining, they always left something out.
The skin of a scar is stronger than the original, less aware of pain...
Self-injury is a sign of distress not madness. We should be congratulated on having found a way of surviving.
When I cut myself, I feel so much better. All the little things that might have been annoying me suddenly seem trivial because I'm concentrating on the pain.
Scars are tattoos with better stories.
We are male and female. We are artists, athletes, students, and business owners. We have depression, DID, PTSD, eating disorders, borderline personalities, bipolar disorder, or maybe no diagnosis at all. Some of us were abused, some were not. We are straight, bi, and gay. We come from all walks of life and can be any age. We are every single race or religion that you can possibly think of. Our common link is this: We are in pain. We self-injure. And we are not freaks.
You see her sitting there and you think 'shes so sad' but its not that shes sad, shes simply given up on pretending to be happy, shes tired of getting up every morning and putting on her fake smile, telling herself 'today will be better'. She doesnt want to be an inconvenience or a bother anymore...she has stopped looking for the light switch in the dark room she calls her life.
If you forget all else remember just this, there are people who love you and want you happy... without you their life would be empty.
In reality, I'm slowly losing my mind. Underneath the guise of smile, gradually I'm dying inside. Friends ask me how I feel and I lie convincingly. Cause I don’t want to reveal the fact that I'm suffering. So I wear my disguise till I go home at night and turn down all the lights and then I break down and cry.
Everyone is asking me how I feel, how I am and truthfully: I feel numb. I can’t feel anything…and honestly, I like it.
Depression is such a strong emotion, it’s regret, fear, frustration, isolation, a choice, and sometimes even a form of protection.
Loneliness is the human condition. No one is ever going to fill that space.
Why don't you just sit down, close your eyes and invent your own world? When you were little you did, even with your eyes open.
Sometimes it seems like we're all living in some kind of prison, and the crime is how much we all hate ourselves. It's good to get really dressed up once in a while and admit the truth - that when you look closely, people are so strange and complicated that they're actually beautiful. Possibly even me.
As long as you know everything is a lie then you can't hurt yourself.- Manson
Do you ever have one of those days where nothing really goes wrong but you feel like you hate the world and the smallest thing that happens can make you break down right there and cry?
Cutters are living proof that when the body is ravaged the soul cries out and when the soul is trampled upon, the body bleeds.
I'm playing a game I can't win, I keep losing and losing, why do I keep playing? To me it isn't about winning or losing, I'm just enjoying the game.
The drastic steps I'm taking are just an act of desperation, no one's gonna miss me so what the hell. I fought and lied I drank too much. Hurt everyone I ever touched, just how much I hurt you is hard to tell. It's not some kind of cry for help just good bye I wish you well because I love you I'm gonna kill myself. --- Tim McGraw
I won't leave a note for anyone to find tomorrow they will know what I've done here tonight.
Do you ever lay in bed at night hoping you wake up in the emergency room and hear the words "She’s not going to make it?"
I certainly didn't tell anyone; I didn't advertise that I was doing this, but I didn't necessarily also make sure no one could see that I was injured. In fact, I felt proud of it; I felt good about it. It was like a battle scar: it proved that I had been grievously wounded and survived. When I hid my scars, I did so because I didn't want anyone to think I was a basket case or a mental case and to look down on me or to pity me or to stop hanging out with me - leave me because they couldn't. handle me...
You know when you cut yourself really badly, it doesn't hurt at all for awhile you don't feel anything - death, our reaction to death is sort of like that you don't feel anything at all and then later on you begin to hurt.
Pull the shades - razor blades - you're so tragic. i hate you so but love you more. I'm so elastic - the things you say - games you play - dirty magic.
I did not, you see, want to kill myself. Not at that time, anyway. But I wanted to know that if need be, if the desperation got so terribly bad, I could inflict harm on my body. And I could. Knowing this gave me a sense of peace and power, so I started cutting up my legs all the time. Hiding the scars from my mother became a sport of its own. I collected razor blades, I bought a Swiss Army knife, I became fascinated with different kinds of sharp edges and the different cutting sensations they produced. I tried out different shapes - squares, triangles, pentagons, even an awkwardly carved heart, with a stab wound at its center, wanting to see if it hurt th
First time I cut was just to feel the pain, Strange because I didn't feel a thing.
It wasn't because I wanted to die, I just wanted the pain to finally stop.
I have to cut because it's the only way I can smile.
Let me give you some advice-- if you are gonna lie about something at least make sure it's worth lying about.
I've always been the good girl. The girl whose parents that she would grow up and actually become something. But I'm not like that anymore. I never thought I'd drink or snort those pills but I guess I was wrong. Now that I've done it I don't wanna stop. It's like cutting, once you drag that blade across your skin you can't stop. You don't wanna stop. I know you wanted a perfect teenage girl but in reality there isn't one.
Those feelings that are the most painful are those ones that nobody can explain no quote can describe... and no tears or
smiles can make them go away. They're the ones that hurt the deepest the ones that last the longest and take forever to
forget about .
Sometimes I feel like no one cares. Sometimes I feel like no one is there. Sometimes I want to kill myself. Sometimes I think I need some help. Sometimes I feel like I'm alone. Sometimes I'm in an empty zone. Sometimes I feel like I'm not alive. Sometimes I wonder if I'm deprived. Sometimes I think the world should end. Sometimes I think I have no friends. Sometimes I want to make them see that sometimes I wish I wasn't me...
I'm so broken. Not half full, not half empty, not ever cracked. I'm just broken. I can't exist anymore. I can barely function. There's nothing left to me. And I don't care.
Cutting is a stepping stone for me. All my life I have been put through so much emotional pain and I’ve let myself just sit and drown in it. I can’t physically or emotionally do it anymore. So I cut. It temporarily takes my pain away until I am able to remove myself from all feeling. I am detached from everything right now... I am numb.
Please don't blame yourself for any of the stupid **** that I choose to do. None of this is your fault. I'm the one who makes these bad decisions so im the one who pays the consequences.
They didn't know that she was planning something. Most people thought she was perfectly fine. She was good at pretending...but some people knew she wasn't okay but they didn’t realize how bad it was. She would party every weekend. She was border-line alcoholic rarely going 48 hours without being 100% sober. She tried finding comfort in anything even if that meant ‘doing’ some guy she just met one night while she had been drinking. Everyday was going by as a blur. They didn't know that she cried herself to sleep every night. They didn’t know that she had practiced cutting herself so many times. They didn’t know that she had written and rewritten letters to all the people she cared about most telling them she loved them and apologizing. She even wrote one to the person who was most important to her, who wouldn't understand what had happened because she was too young. She wanted her to know it wasn't her fault and she loved her dearly. They just didn’t know. They found her surrounded... in her own blood. They finally knew... they finally realized that she really wasn't okay and the rumors, and the fake friends, and the guys who liked her for all the wrong reasons, and the family, and the lies, and the imperfect body that she saw that everyone else thought was close to perfect, had gotten to her. She finally had the courage to press down hard enough... and they finally knew that she planned this.
It's not how tragically we suffer but how miracously we live.
Life and death are balanced on the edge of a razor.
I'm not guna give a damn anymore... If you hurt me, I'm gonna hurt you. That's how it's gonna be from now on...
How can you hide from what never goes away?
One morning you wake up afraid to live.
...it all becomes completely numbing, like so much pounding on a frozen paralyzed limb that bruises but no longer feels.
But then I never had to worry about crash landing because I never took off.
It was like sawdust, the unhappiness: it infiltrated everything, everything was a problem, everything made her cry - school, homework, boyfriends, the future, the lack of future, the uncertainty of the future, fear of future, fear in general - but it was so hard to say exactly what the problem was in the first place
On top of feeling sad, I also felt guilty.
I went home at night and cried for hours because so many people in my life expecting me to be a certain way was too much pressure, as if I'd been held against a wall and interrogated for hours, asked questions I couldn't quite answer any longer.
I don't care that I don't care, but I do care maybe a little bit about not caring about not caring - but maybe I do feel sorry for all the nice people whose efforts are wasted on a waste case like me. --- Prozac Nation
The have no idea what a bottomless pit of misery I am.
I did not, you see, want to kill myself. Not at that time, anyway. But I wanted to know that if need be, if the desperation got so terribly bad, I could inflict harm on my body. And I could. Knowing this gave me a sense of peace and power, so I started cutting up my legs all the time. Hiding the scars from my mother became a sport of its own. I collected razor blades, I bought a Swiss Army knife, I became fascinated with different kinds of sharp edges and the different cutting sensations they produced. I tried out different shapes - squares, triangles, pentagons, even an awkwardly carved heart, with a stab wound at its center, wanting to see if it hurt the way a real broken heart could hurt. I was amazed and pleased to find that it didn't.
There were times when she thought she didn't need to do it anymore, times when she thought she was done with it. Cutting made her feel like she was... special, like she had something. She liked having the ability to inflict pain whenever she wanted, and she liked that she could stop it. Not that she really wanted to. When she thought she was done, it made her empty, unsure if this was really living. She would ask herself if this was happiness, and told herself that if it was, she hated it. Cutting made her feel different then everyone else, but she also knew that other people did it for the same reasons, that made her feel that she was a part of something. Then there were times when the tears from her eyes burned a path down her cheek, and her throat was so tight she couldn't scream no matter how much she tried. Those times she would find relief only by cutting up her skin and bleeding out all the painful screams. The pain of living altogether flowed from one simple cut. She didn't care where she cut, arms, legs, stomach, or wrists. As long as she keeps cutting she can live to tomorrow.
You cry yourself to sleep at night I've heard your strangled sobs piercing through the darkness. Wishing I could help. You cut your self to take control. I've seen mangled scars running up your arms as plentiful as veins. Wishing I could help you starve yourself to grasp what's left I've seen you, thin and not even trying to live. Wishing I could help through all these things I've seen you, wished I could take away the pain. Then you took it away your self. I wished I could've helped.
Imperfect. That's what you can call me. After all I am me, and don't fit a certain category. I'm just a girl who lives life day by day and always manages to put a smile on my face. Even if that day I'm a complete mess.
What is depression really? Is there one concrete definition, or has the meaning loosened as our generation has continued it's downhill descent? To me, depression is simply my life. I'm not suicidal. I'm not a cutter. I don't hate the world. I don't dress completely in black. I'm just sad. I've been sad for what feels like my entire life, but that's not true. I was happy once and I can vaguely remember what it felt like, but I can't touch it. I can't get that happiness back, I don't know how. That's what depression is to me, knowing what happiness is, but never being able to touch it, to feel it.
One of the worst feelings in the world is loneliness. Sitting in the dark by yourself in the wee hours of the night gently crying. Nobody knows what's going on with you. How could anybody realize what's happening? Everybody you know is resting peacefully in their bed awaiting the new day tomorrow. But for you, there's no difference in the days. They pass monotonously. And before you know it, it's all gone.
When it seems like everything is wrong and will never be right again remember even the darkest nights must give way to day.
The one person who really knows me best says I'm like a cat, the kind of cat that you just can't pick up and throw into your lap. Yeah, the kind who doesn't mind being held only when it's her idea. Yeah, the kind who feels what she decides to feel when she's good and ready to feel it. Now I am prowling through the backyard and I am hiding under the car and I've gotten out of everything I've gotten into so far and I eat when I am hungry and I travel alone. Just outside the glow of the house is where I feel most at home.
She cuts herself. Never too deep, never enough to die. But enough to feel the pain. Enough to feel the scream inside.
You might imagine that a person would resort to self-mutilation only under extremes of duress, but once I'd crossed that line the first time, taken that fateful step off the precipice, then almost any reason was a good enough reason, almost any provocation enough. Cutting was my all-purpose solution. My scars ought to be a charm bracelet of mnemonics, each a permanent reminder of its precipitating event, but maybe the most disturbing thing I can say about the history of my cutting is that for the most part I can't even remember the when’s and the whys behind those wounds. It didn't take much to make me cut. Frustration, humiliation, insecurity, guilt, remorse, loneliness... I cut 'em all out. They were like a poison, caustic and destructive, as though lye had been siphoned into my veins. The only way I could survive them, I thought, was to keep draining them from my blood.
How many cuts could I count? How many could I place in time and context? I had to admit that I couldn't remember the occasion of almost any of them, their catalysts, whether epic or mundane, completely obscured by time. So many moments of supposedly unendurable pain, now utterly forgotten. u start to think, Maybe I don't need this anymore. Maybe I never did I was trying to get equilibrium from two extremes: either I was so upset that I had to cut myself to relieve it, or I was so numb that I had to cut myself to get back to being there.
Let the blood run down your arms then try and tell me everything's okay.
I take the blade and run it gently against my skin, it cuts in deeper and deeper, the blood bursts out and slowly runs down my arm then it stops and the pain goes away.
Cutting doesn't solve anything or take the pain away, but for those few seconds everything is Okay...
Some times in stead of cutting an X on my wrist I make a cross so that the Lord can forgive me for destroying my body, and I also pray that the pain stops as the blood slowly drips onto my sheets.
Crimson tears run down my arm, All the pain and all the harm. My only way to let it out, I wanna scream, I wanna shout. But I don’t make a sound, I keep it inside. I wanna break out, but instead I hide. I sit in my room, and hide in my shell, The life that I’m living, my own private hell. The crimson tears, down my arm they run. I look down at my arm, what have I done?
Every word, another scar, Some people say I cut for attention, Attention is the last thing I want, I tell them I've got my reasons, But what they don't know is, They are the reason I cut, I walk the halls and people talk, Their harsh words cut in deep, Don't they know what they're doing, Every word they say is another scar on my wrist.
As she's breaking down she grabs her razor and she whispers... “this time I'm not okay...”
I never knew that one singe blade could mess up my life...
There is nothing sadder than a child who has barely seen the world, yet who has seen enough of it to know that he does not wish to be a part of it...
You're scared because you don't understand... I'm scared because I do.
“I'm okay...” isn't that what I'm supposed to say?
Depression is merely anger minus the enthusiasm.
I don't cut...
I fell...
I don't cut...
My dog bit me...
I would always tell you,
These easy lies.
When you really didn't know,
I do cut, and cry, and lie.
You don't know me,
So don't even try.
The razor moves along her wrist like a river, so peacefully, as that red water starts to escape, it’s hard to make it stop.
Nothing is more dear to them than their own suffering - they are afraid that they will lose it - They feel it, like a whip cracking over their heads, striking them and yet befriending them; it wounds them, but it also reassures them.
Why? Why do I feel so gone? I am now so distant I just don't belong. Now I'm ripped away from existence. I've become so transparent that I lost all substance. Sitting nowhere, breathing fake air. We don't feel anymore, so we can't care. Its about time I clear my throat. Let the hellish screams out till I begin to float. I'd run a million miles from here, just to get out of this cage and escape from fear. You know you're screwed when you crave pain, you wanna bleed all throughout your brain. The blood in my veins is proof of life. I'm not sure if its there, so I reveal it with a knife. Not me any more, don't know myself. Prisoner in my own skin, I no longer comprehend health. It's all in the family they used to say. It's all in the family so it must be ok. They hurt and rape her, they slash and tear her, they kill and torture, they love the terror. We are our own army so lets retaliate. Fight, destroy, show them real hate. Look at the fire in her eyes. That roaring beast never hides. She lost all she ever had. Blood seeps through her skin cause it hurts so bad. Her shattered heart pounds against her breast, scattered pieces cutting holes in her chest. Slowly she fades as she quickly she drowns. Covered in guilt, sequestered from sounds. Tilting on the edge, about to fall off. Her mind is so lacerated it has become leathery and soft.
That was when I cut my arms with a razor blade as a means of creative expression. I only did it lightly, just grazing the skin, to see the way the blood would bleed out, to make myself look tougher. Not like some of those kids who keep going deeper and deeper, wondering what they look like down to the bone, because it's a world that's so close and yet so far and so dangerous and so much their own. The only world that is their own.
How will you know I am hurting, If you cannot see my pain? To wear it on my body Tells what words cannot explain.
It requires more courage to suffer than to die.
I'm freezing, I'm starving, I'm bleeding to death, Everything's fine.
'But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.
'Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat. 'We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.'
'How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice.
'You must be," said the Cat. 'or you wouldn't have come here.'"
Insanity is knowing that what you're doing is completely idiotic, but still, somehow, you just can't stop it.
"...occasionally I wished I could walk through a picture window and have the sharp, broken shards slash me to ribbons so I would finally look like I felt."
Don't let yourself become so angry that you stop loving, because one day, you'll wake up from that anger, and the person you love will be gone.
Tough times don't last but tough people do.
That's the problem with cutting. Once you start, you can't stop. It's addicting, cutting is my drug. It serves its purpose perfectly. Once I cut, I forget about everything that has been wrong. All that is left is my concentration on my cut. I forget about everything but the pain. Pain has become my world.
I have a lot more of these types of quotes... if you'd like any of them, just PM me, and I'll send you some. :)
Please don't judge people who are struggling.
"It rains the hardest on the people who deserve the most sunshine."
I know this is long, but please read. It truly helps you to understand those of us who feel this way...
Don't hold strong opinions about things you don't understand.
My time has come, and so I'm gone. To a better place, far beyond. I love you all as you can see. But it's better now, because I'm free.
Sometimes you need to run away just to see who will follow you.
It's hard to answer the question "what's wrong" when nothing is right.
I'm tired of trying, sick of crying, I know I've been smiling, but inside I'm dying.
Maybe one day it will be ok again. That's all I want. I don't care what it takes. I just want to be ok again.
When I was younger crying always seemed to be the answer. Now that I'm older crying seems to be the only option.
I guess there comes a point where you just have to stop trying because it hurts too much to hold on anymore.
You say I'm always happy, and that I'm good at what I do, but what you'll never realize is, I'm a damn good actress too.
Just because I'm smiling doesn't mean I'm happy.
Tired of living and scared of dying.
I don't necessarily want to be happy; I just want to stop feeling miserable.
Don't fall into the trap of pretending everything's fine when you know it isn't.
The hardest years in life are those between ten and seventy.
I'm just learning how to smile, and that's not easy to do.
Sometimes it hurts more to smile in front of everyone, then to cry all alone.
I want to be remembered as the girl who always smiled. The one who could brighten up your day, even if she couldn't brighten her own.
Just when I thought my life was coming together, I realized it was just starting to fall apart.
Stop the world. I wanna get off.
I bleed for you that's why I cut those simple scars are just deep thoughts.
You bleed just to know you’re alive.
Death is God's way of saying “you're fired”. Suicide is human’s way of saying “you can't fire me, I quit”.
I don't know what I want in life. I don't know what I want right now. All I know is that I'm hurting so much inside that it's eating me, and one day, there won't be any of me left.
Everything that ever caused a tear to trickle down my cheek, I ran away and hid from it. But now, everything is unwinding and finding its way back to me. And I don't know what to do. I just know that pain I felt so long ago; it's hurting ten times more.
It's the loneliest feeling in the world - to find yourself standing up when everyone else is sitting down. To have everybody look at you and say "what's the matter with her?" I know what it feels like. Walking down an empty street, listening to the sound of your own footsteps. Shutters closed, blinds drawn, doors locked against you. And you aren't sure whether you're walking toward something, or if you're just walking away.
You start life with a clean slate. Then you begin to make your mark. You face decisions, make choices. You keep moving forward. But sooner or later there comes a time where you look back over where you have been and wonder who you really are.
I don't know if I'm getting better or just used to the pain.
I know it seems like I'm this strong person who can get though anything, but inside I'm fragile. I've had so many things thrown at me, and each one has only made a crack. What I'm afraid of is shattering.
Maybe I am crazy but laughing makes the pain pass by.
I love sleep. My life has this tendency to fall apart when I'm awake.
I know what its like to want to die; how it hurts to smile; how you try to fit in but you can't; how you hurt yourself on the outside; to try to kill the thing that's in the inside.
Even the people who never frown eventually break down.
How can you understand me when I can't understand myself?
I hate what I have become to escape what I hated being.
It's like I realized that way down inside, I've always been lonely for something. But I don't know what for. It's like everybody in the world wants something. Only they never really know exactly what it is - they just keep finding out what it's not. You know how, when you turn off the TV or you come out of some concert, and everything just feels empty? Like you thought that would be what you wanted, and then it wasn't?
You look at me and think, 'she's so happy' but there's so much behind this little smile that you will never know.
Do you ever have those times you cry and you don't know why?
People are always telling me to smile, like smiling is going to just take away all the hurt and pain. Well I've tried that I've tried hiding my sorrows and covering the sadness in smiles and what I've learned is that when it hurts this much inside your heart always has a way of showing it no matter how many masks you wear.
Let no one think I gave in.
The pain is there to remind me that I'm still alive.
It seems to me that the harder I try the harder I fall.
Refuse to feel anything at all, refuse to slip, refuse to fall, can't be weak, can't stand still, and watch your back because no one else will.
There's no excuse for the need to take your own life away, everyone passes through some rough obstacles in life, just face them as they come along, there's always a way to overcome those obstacles, and learn from your experiences.
If you can't solve it, it isn't a problem--its reality. And sometimes reality is the hardest thing to understand and the thing that takes the longest to realize. But once it hits you in the face you'll never forget it. It will always be there in your memories and sometimes that is the best way to look at it.
It's funny the way you can get used to the tears and the pain.
What do you do when you become too scared, too scared to live, too scared to die, too scared to love, too scared to even care?
You can't just hug me and say it's okay because right now... it doesn't feel that way…
Sometimes the littlest thing in life changes something forever and there will be times when you wish you can go back to how things used to be but you just can't because things have changed so much.
I just wish I could roll back the clocks to when things were the same... then we were all just a bunch of crazy teenagers looking for a wild time. But now, thing aren't the same. Each of us has gone our different ways. We change, people change, things just change, and we aren't those crazy teenagers looking for a wild time anymore. We're teenagers looking for a person to love and a person to hug when we're in need.
Sometimes I think that if I wasn't so good at pretending to be, I'd be better at actually being happy.
Her sadness did not have that. It dripped slowly into her life without her noticing it; at least, not noticing it until it consumed her fully and smothered her with darkness.
I quit, I give up, nothing's good enough for anybody else, it see... when I’m all alone its best way to be. When I'm by myself nobody else can say good-bye. Everything is temporary anyway.
Everybody's searching for a hero. People need someone to look up to. I never found anyone who fulfilled my need... a lonely place to be, and so I learned to depend on me.
Pain is your friend, it tells you when you're seriously injured, it keeps you awake and angry but the best thing about it is it lets you know that you're alive.
I have a tendency to hurt myself physically, when I'm hurting inside.
When your sure you've had enough of this life... don't let yourself go... because everybody cries... everybody hurts sometimes... sometimes everything is wrong.
Some of us are just trying to get through the day without falling apart.
Every night before I go to sleep I lie on my bed and stare up at my blank walls. I try to imagine the future, but right now it's as blank as those walls. All I can see is a past that I barely recognize any more.
I don't want the world to see me, because I don't think that they'd understand.
Look at me. You may think you see who I really am, but you'll never know me.
There's a smile on my face but I don't know why it's there... I put it on to satisfy all the people that don't even care.
I'm often silent when I am screaming inside.
The deepest people are the ones who've been hurt the most.
Someone once asked me, 'Why do you always insist on taking the hard road?' I replied, 'Why do you assume I see two roads?'
Wear a mask that grins and lies, it hides our cheeks and shades our eyes. The debt we pay to human guile, with torn and broken hearts, we smile.
Sometimes I feel like nobody has held me down and forced me to cry or made me hug them, or seen to the inside of me. I just say 'oh I'm fine' and walk away. Nobody's ever said to me 'no, you're not'.
Do you ever get that feeling where you don't want to talk to anybody? You don't want to smile and you don't want to fake being happy. But at the same time you don't know exactly what's wrong either. There isn't a way to explain it to someone who doesn't already understand. If you could want anything in the world it would be to be alone. People have stopped being comforting and being alone never was. At least when you're alone no one will constantly ask you what is wrong and there isn't anyone who won't take 'I don't know' for an answer. You feel the way you do just because. You hope the feeling will pass soon and that you will be able to be yourself again, but until then all you can do is wait.
Some people try to understand, but nobody can know what living like this is like.
You never know when you wake up, if all will be the same, or if you'll be back in your dark place, again to feel the pain.
No one can see the pain what we hide, they're happy for us to keep it inside, our fear is our own; they don't want to know. Why should we involve them; why should it show.
Our generation has had no Great war, no Great Depression. Our war is spiritual. Our depression is our lives.
So drop the little razor, and pick up your life, forget all the bad things, the pain and the strife.
I'm not my usual self being quiet and lonely isn't 'me' crying all night, acting all day this isn't how it's supposed to be.
I'm hurting so bad inside I just wish you could see... I'm struggling to be someone that isn't even close to me.
Beware the person who has nothing to lose.
In the end, music is your only friend.
When your going thru hell... it's best to just keep on going...
What's the point in screaming? No one is listening anyway.
I'm young and I'm hopeless... I'm lost and I know this... I'm going nowhere fast... that's what they say... I'm troublesome, I've fallen... I'm angry at my Father... it's me against this world and I don't care.
She's not the kind of girl who likes to tell the world about the way she feels about herself.
Did it surprise you that I am not who you thought I was? Did it surprise you to find that I don't exactly stand for what you thought I stood for all along? Did it surprise you to find that I'm not exactly how I played myself out to be? That the person you thought I was is actually nothing to what I am.
Everyone sees who I appear to be but only a few know the real me, you only see what I choose to show there's so much behind my smile you just don't know.
I like having low self-esteem it makes me feel special.
Take it from someone who's fallen... it's a long way down.
They say you need to pray, if you want to go to heaven. But they don't tell you what to say when your whole life has gone to hell.
The only thing standing between me and total happiness is reality.
The beautiful thing about music is when it hits you, you fell no pain.
True strength is holding it together when everyone else would understand if you fall apart.
The only thing worse then being hated is being ignored. At least when they hate you they treat you like you exist.
There is something beautiful about all scars of whatever nature. A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed and healed, done with.
Rock bottom is good solid ground, and a dead end street is just a place to turn around.
She is the quietest kind of rebel.
She could shut out the whole world, including herself.
Our scars have the power to remind us that the past is real.
Nothing can stop me now because I don't care anymore.
In that one instance I hated everyone in my life, everyone and everything, and me most of all.
She was like a flower that had been battered by a storm, but not quite destroyed. Gradually, she began to strengthen and bloom again.
She was a girl who knew how to be happy even when she was sad and that's important you know.
I'll fake all the smiles, if it stops all the questions.
Behind this innocent smile of mine, lay words left unsaid. Words of longing, love, anger, and hate, all repeated inside my head.
I've been a loser all my life. I'm not about to change. If you don't like it, there's a door. Nobody made you stay.
But its ironic because that's how I live my life. I smile on the outside, and everyone thinks I'm doing fine but I'm always dying inside, always one step away from the edge you know? I can't be happy to be who I am because I don't know who I am anymore.
Be patient and tough; some day this pain will be useful to you.
I just realized that were all a bunch of actresses and we've fooled everyone into believing that we're all okay... I'm just waiting for the day when I can convince myself of that.
I smile, I smile all the time, and you’re just not around to see it.
I just like playing games with people, I always hope there'll be someone smart enough to see through me but you're all so stupid.
I'm so happy, cause today I found my friends, they're in my head.
I wouldn't be surprised if I was voted most likely to kill everyone at a high school dance.
I'd rather hang out with the losers that would sit and smoke a cigarette than the ones who wanted to throw a baseball.
All rock music is good as long as it has passion and feeling.
If you die you're completely happy and your soul somewhere lives on. I'm not afraid of dying. Total peace after death, becoming someone else is the best hope I've got.
QUIET! I can't hear you & all the voices in my head at the same time!
If you hold back your feelings because you are afraid of getting hurt, you end up hurting anyway.
Not all scars show. Not all wounds heal. Sometimes you can't always see the pain someone feels.
When you quit fearing pain, when you learn to love the pain, you will lose all fear of everything.
Just because some people don't cry, doesn't mean they're not suffering.
I cut to prove to you that you are not the only one that can hurt me.
The sky isn't always blue. The sun doesn't always shine. So it's okay to fall apart sometimes.
You do it to yourself... and that's why it really hurts.
I used to have many faults, not I have only two - everything I say and everything I do...
I've come to the point where nothing matters anymore, and things I used to care about aren't worth fighting for.
I am not what I ought to be, not what I want to be, but I am thankful that I am better than I used to be...
Those who say sunshine brings happiness have never danced in the rain.
I'm not afraid of the gun in my hand, I'm not afraid of dying, I'm just afraid of the pain it will bring, and to see my best friends crying.
Are you running away from something you don't want? Or running away from something you're afraid to want?
I wear my scars proudly. They represent the battles through which I have gone, and I am proud because those battles I have won.
You have no idea what I can do.
The insane are sane and the sane are insane in a world of craziness.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that the moment one area of your life starts going okay, another part of it falls spectacularly to pieces.
I believe in whatever gets you through the night. Night is the hardest time to be alive. For me, anyway. It lasts so long, and four am knows all my secrets. Four am is when my dreams die.
No matter what you do or say, there's nothing that you can do to make people understand you.---Kurt Cobain
Damaged people are dangerous, they know they know they can survive.
People dislike alcoholics, but they still drink at parties. People sit in non-smoking section in restaurants, but still enjoy the occasional nicotine jolt. People have strong feelings against self-injurers, but they also take all their emotions out on other people.
Such a pretty girl, happy in an ugly place. Watching all the pretty people do lots of ugly things.
The apple fall far from the tree she's rotten and so beautiful I'd like to keep her here with me and tell her that she's beautiful she takes the pills to fall asleep and dreams that she's invisible tormented dreams she stays awake recalls when she was capable...
Without pain, there would be no suffering, with out suffering we would never learn from out mistakes. To make it right, pain and suffering is the key to all windows, without it, there's no way of life.
If I would kill myself tonight, who would remember me tomorrow?
No more joy - No more sadness - No emotion - Only madness. I can't see. I don't feel. I can't touch. I don't heal.
There's a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line.
Skin is beautiful, don't ruin it with scars just because your life isn't as beautiful. For once life becomes beautiful to you again, your skin wont be so beautiful anymore.
Life it seems, will fade away drifting further every day getting lost within myself nothing matters no one else I have lost the will to live simply nothing more to give.
I am sad but I'm laughing.
Everybody knows that something's wrong but nobody knows what's going on.
We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven't you?
The question isn't 'who is going to let me'; it's 'who is going to stop me'.
And sometimes I have really bad day... when, you know, I just want to hide or scream or bleed or something...
Scar tissue has no character. It's not like skin. It doesn't show age or illness or pallor or tan. It has no pores, no hair, no wrinkles. It's like a slip cover. It shields and disguises what's beneath. That's why we grow it; we have something to hide.
I only smile in the dark.
Every so often I want to dig my fingernails underneath my skin and peel off the face everybody's so used to seeing me in. Every so often I want people to know that I'm not as okay as they think I am.
It wasn't a suicide attempt, it was an escape from everything awful. When we cut, we're in control - we make our own pain and we can stop it whenever we want. Physical pain relieves mental anguish. For a brief moment, the pain of cutting is the only thing in the cutter's mind, and when that stops and the other comes back, it is weaker. Drugs do that too, and sex, but not like cutting. Nothing is like cutting.
To be loved to madness - such was her great desire. Love was to her the one cordial that could drive away the eating loneliness of her days.
These cuts are leaving creases. Trace the scars, to fit the pieces, to tell your story, you don't need to say a word.
Who am I? I am who I say I am and tomorrow someone else entirely.
A pill to make you numb, a pill to you make you dumb, a pill to make you anybody else, but all the drugs in this world won’t save her from herself.
We're all quite mad here. Ha... ha ha ha ha ha! You may have noticed that I'm not all there myself.
If you don't like the way I am, then don't come around me. If you don't like the way that I talk, then don't listen. If you don't like the way I dress, then don't look. But don't waste my time telling me about it. I don't care.
Reality has exiled me; I am no longer bound by it's laws.
Sometimes you can cry until there is nothing left wet in you. You can scream and curse to where your throat rebels and ruptures. You can pray all you want to whatever god you think will listen. And still, it makes no difference. It goes on, with no sign as to when it might release you. And you know that if it ever did relent... it would not be because it cared.-Johnny the Homicidal Maniac
Sometimes I sit and watch the ink leak from my pen. It comforts me to know something else bleeds the way I do.
It's an interesting feeling, really, to scroll through all the numbers in your phone, and realize that there is no one who will understand.
My skin is burnt but it heals my heart, with growing pride I’ll wear my scars, I am honored by you hate.--- Tera
I guess for some people its always a little easier to appreciate the rainy days instead of sunny days...
I've lived in this place and I know all the faces. Each one is different, but they're always the same. They mean me no harm but its time that I face it, they'll never allow me to change... But, I never dreamed home would end up where I don't belong... I'm moving on.
Where ever I am I always find myself looking out the window wishing I was somewhere else.---Angelina Jolie
There's something about death that is comforting. The thought that you could die tomorrow frees you to appreciate your life now---Angelina Jolie
Without pain, there would be no suffering, without suffering we would never learn from our mistakes. To make it right, pain and suffering is the key to all windows, without it, there is no way of life.---Angelina Jolie
Do you remember the days when you were a child and simply running outside made you happy? What happened to them?
There's a girl in my mirror crying tonight and there's nothing I can tell her to make her feel alright...
I can't stop crying... I don't understand, and it's not the loud, screaming crying... it's just the tears continuously roll down my face, and I can't do anything to stop them.
Someday I'll fly away.
I can't get my wrists to bleed, just don't know why suicide appeals to me. - Alice Cooper
This isn't a perfect world. People do get hurt. You smile when you feel like crying. You act like you're ok, when you're falling apart inside. And you try to let go, you try to move on, because you know there's nothing else you could do.
I have no clue why I do what I do. It feels good to have cold metal press against my skin as my problems tear at my soul. The blood drips softly and I cry silently. No one will ever understand me except for other people like me.
Close your eyes, and imagine 5, 10, 15 years from now. You are with your husband and maybe 2, 3 or so kids and your a very happy family, and very self-full-filled and your life is perfect just the way you had always dreamed and hoped, and then your little 5 year old child asks you: "mommy, why do you have all those white scars on your arm?" and then what will you say? I used to take a razor and pull it down real slow and carefully and watch the blood drop out of my skin so that I could see that I am still alive, or so I could feel real physical pain instead of emotional pain. No you can't say that to your child. And even if you do then your child will learn from you and do the same to them whenever they are feeling down. You don't really want that, now do you.
What you think is what you are. What you peruse becomes your reality.
You ask why I say nothings wrong when really everything is. You should know what wrong. You’re my friends, you’re making bad decisions and its killing me to see you suffer like you are. You just never see how what your doing effects me because you don’t care enough to look and see.
I cry then I cut, then I cry again, it never ends.
I was lost. There was nobody for me to talk to about all that you were troubling me with. So I sat alone, with everything inside, and cried myself to sleep.
When you talk about feelings, words were too stiff, they were this and not that, they couldn't include all the meanings. In defining, they always left something out.
The skin of a scar is stronger than the original, less aware of pain...
Self-injury is a sign of distress not madness. We should be congratulated on having found a way of surviving.
When I cut myself, I feel so much better. All the little things that might have been annoying me suddenly seem trivial because I'm concentrating on the pain.
Scars are tattoos with better stories.
We are male and female. We are artists, athletes, students, and business owners. We have depression, DID, PTSD, eating disorders, borderline personalities, bipolar disorder, or maybe no diagnosis at all. Some of us were abused, some were not. We are straight, bi, and gay. We come from all walks of life and can be any age. We are every single race or religion that you can possibly think of. Our common link is this: We are in pain. We self-injure. And we are not freaks.
You see her sitting there and you think 'shes so sad' but its not that shes sad, shes simply given up on pretending to be happy, shes tired of getting up every morning and putting on her fake smile, telling herself 'today will be better'. She doesnt want to be an inconvenience or a bother anymore...she has stopped looking for the light switch in the dark room she calls her life.
If you forget all else remember just this, there are people who love you and want you happy... without you their life would be empty.
In reality, I'm slowly losing my mind. Underneath the guise of smile, gradually I'm dying inside. Friends ask me how I feel and I lie convincingly. Cause I don’t want to reveal the fact that I'm suffering. So I wear my disguise till I go home at night and turn down all the lights and then I break down and cry.
Everyone is asking me how I feel, how I am and truthfully: I feel numb. I can’t feel anything…and honestly, I like it.
Depression is such a strong emotion, it’s regret, fear, frustration, isolation, a choice, and sometimes even a form of protection.
Loneliness is the human condition. No one is ever going to fill that space.
Why don't you just sit down, close your eyes and invent your own world? When you were little you did, even with your eyes open.
Sometimes it seems like we're all living in some kind of prison, and the crime is how much we all hate ourselves. It's good to get really dressed up once in a while and admit the truth - that when you look closely, people are so strange and complicated that they're actually beautiful. Possibly even me.
As long as you know everything is a lie then you can't hurt yourself.- Manson
Do you ever have one of those days where nothing really goes wrong but you feel like you hate the world and the smallest thing that happens can make you break down right there and cry?
Cutters are living proof that when the body is ravaged the soul cries out and when the soul is trampled upon, the body bleeds.
I'm playing a game I can't win, I keep losing and losing, why do I keep playing? To me it isn't about winning or losing, I'm just enjoying the game.
The drastic steps I'm taking are just an act of desperation, no one's gonna miss me so what the hell. I fought and lied I drank too much. Hurt everyone I ever touched, just how much I hurt you is hard to tell. It's not some kind of cry for help just good bye I wish you well because I love you I'm gonna kill myself. --- Tim McGraw
I won't leave a note for anyone to find tomorrow they will know what I've done here tonight.
Do you ever lay in bed at night hoping you wake up in the emergency room and hear the words "She’s not going to make it?"
I certainly didn't tell anyone; I didn't advertise that I was doing this, but I didn't necessarily also make sure no one could see that I was injured. In fact, I felt proud of it; I felt good about it. It was like a battle scar: it proved that I had been grievously wounded and survived. When I hid my scars, I did so because I didn't want anyone to think I was a basket case or a mental case and to look down on me or to pity me or to stop hanging out with me - leave me because they couldn't. handle me...
You know when you cut yourself really badly, it doesn't hurt at all for awhile you don't feel anything - death, our reaction to death is sort of like that you don't feel anything at all and then later on you begin to hurt.
Pull the shades - razor blades - you're so tragic. i hate you so but love you more. I'm so elastic - the things you say - games you play - dirty magic.
I did not, you see, want to kill myself. Not at that time, anyway. But I wanted to know that if need be, if the desperation got so terribly bad, I could inflict harm on my body. And I could. Knowing this gave me a sense of peace and power, so I started cutting up my legs all the time. Hiding the scars from my mother became a sport of its own. I collected razor blades, I bought a Swiss Army knife, I became fascinated with different kinds of sharp edges and the different cutting sensations they produced. I tried out different shapes - squares, triangles, pentagons, even an awkwardly carved heart, with a stab wound at its center, wanting to see if it hurt th
First time I cut was just to feel the pain, Strange because I didn't feel a thing.
It wasn't because I wanted to die, I just wanted the pain to finally stop.
I have to cut because it's the only way I can smile.
Let me give you some advice-- if you are gonna lie about something at least make sure it's worth lying about.
I've always been the good girl. The girl whose parents that she would grow up and actually become something. But I'm not like that anymore. I never thought I'd drink or snort those pills but I guess I was wrong. Now that I've done it I don't wanna stop. It's like cutting, once you drag that blade across your skin you can't stop. You don't wanna stop. I know you wanted a perfect teenage girl but in reality there isn't one.
Those feelings that are the most painful are those ones that nobody can explain no quote can describe... and no tears or
smiles can make them go away. They're the ones that hurt the deepest the ones that last the longest and take forever to
forget about .
Sometimes I feel like no one cares. Sometimes I feel like no one is there. Sometimes I want to kill myself. Sometimes I think I need some help. Sometimes I feel like I'm alone. Sometimes I'm in an empty zone. Sometimes I feel like I'm not alive. Sometimes I wonder if I'm deprived. Sometimes I think the world should end. Sometimes I think I have no friends. Sometimes I want to make them see that sometimes I wish I wasn't me...
I'm so broken. Not half full, not half empty, not ever cracked. I'm just broken. I can't exist anymore. I can barely function. There's nothing left to me. And I don't care.
Cutting is a stepping stone for me. All my life I have been put through so much emotional pain and I’ve let myself just sit and drown in it. I can’t physically or emotionally do it anymore. So I cut. It temporarily takes my pain away until I am able to remove myself from all feeling. I am detached from everything right now... I am numb.
Please don't blame yourself for any of the stupid **** that I choose to do. None of this is your fault. I'm the one who makes these bad decisions so im the one who pays the consequences.
They didn't know that she was planning something. Most people thought she was perfectly fine. She was good at pretending...but some people knew she wasn't okay but they didn’t realize how bad it was. She would party every weekend. She was border-line alcoholic rarely going 48 hours without being 100% sober. She tried finding comfort in anything even if that meant ‘doing’ some guy she just met one night while she had been drinking. Everyday was going by as a blur. They didn't know that she cried herself to sleep every night. They didn’t know that she had practiced cutting herself so many times. They didn’t know that she had written and rewritten letters to all the people she cared about most telling them she loved them and apologizing. She even wrote one to the person who was most important to her, who wouldn't understand what had happened because she was too young. She wanted her to know it wasn't her fault and she loved her dearly. They just didn’t know. They found her surrounded... in her own blood. They finally knew... they finally realized that she really wasn't okay and the rumors, and the fake friends, and the guys who liked her for all the wrong reasons, and the family, and the lies, and the imperfect body that she saw that everyone else thought was close to perfect, had gotten to her. She finally had the courage to press down hard enough... and they finally knew that she planned this.
It's not how tragically we suffer but how miracously we live.
Life and death are balanced on the edge of a razor.
I'm not guna give a damn anymore... If you hurt me, I'm gonna hurt you. That's how it's gonna be from now on...
How can you hide from what never goes away?
One morning you wake up afraid to live.
...it all becomes completely numbing, like so much pounding on a frozen paralyzed limb that bruises but no longer feels.
But then I never had to worry about crash landing because I never took off.
It was like sawdust, the unhappiness: it infiltrated everything, everything was a problem, everything made her cry - school, homework, boyfriends, the future, the lack of future, the uncertainty of the future, fear of future, fear in general - but it was so hard to say exactly what the problem was in the first place
On top of feeling sad, I also felt guilty.
I went home at night and cried for hours because so many people in my life expecting me to be a certain way was too much pressure, as if I'd been held against a wall and interrogated for hours, asked questions I couldn't quite answer any longer.
I don't care that I don't care, but I do care maybe a little bit about not caring about not caring - but maybe I do feel sorry for all the nice people whose efforts are wasted on a waste case like me. --- Prozac Nation
The have no idea what a bottomless pit of misery I am.
I did not, you see, want to kill myself. Not at that time, anyway. But I wanted to know that if need be, if the desperation got so terribly bad, I could inflict harm on my body. And I could. Knowing this gave me a sense of peace and power, so I started cutting up my legs all the time. Hiding the scars from my mother became a sport of its own. I collected razor blades, I bought a Swiss Army knife, I became fascinated with different kinds of sharp edges and the different cutting sensations they produced. I tried out different shapes - squares, triangles, pentagons, even an awkwardly carved heart, with a stab wound at its center, wanting to see if it hurt the way a real broken heart could hurt. I was amazed and pleased to find that it didn't.
There were times when she thought she didn't need to do it anymore, times when she thought she was done with it. Cutting made her feel like she was... special, like she had something. She liked having the ability to inflict pain whenever she wanted, and she liked that she could stop it. Not that she really wanted to. When she thought she was done, it made her empty, unsure if this was really living. She would ask herself if this was happiness, and told herself that if it was, she hated it. Cutting made her feel different then everyone else, but she also knew that other people did it for the same reasons, that made her feel that she was a part of something. Then there were times when the tears from her eyes burned a path down her cheek, and her throat was so tight she couldn't scream no matter how much she tried. Those times she would find relief only by cutting up her skin and bleeding out all the painful screams. The pain of living altogether flowed from one simple cut. She didn't care where she cut, arms, legs, stomach, or wrists. As long as she keeps cutting she can live to tomorrow.
You cry yourself to sleep at night I've heard your strangled sobs piercing through the darkness. Wishing I could help. You cut your self to take control. I've seen mangled scars running up your arms as plentiful as veins. Wishing I could help you starve yourself to grasp what's left I've seen you, thin and not even trying to live. Wishing I could help through all these things I've seen you, wished I could take away the pain. Then you took it away your self. I wished I could've helped.
Imperfect. That's what you can call me. After all I am me, and don't fit a certain category. I'm just a girl who lives life day by day and always manages to put a smile on my face. Even if that day I'm a complete mess.
What is depression really? Is there one concrete definition, or has the meaning loosened as our generation has continued it's downhill descent? To me, depression is simply my life. I'm not suicidal. I'm not a cutter. I don't hate the world. I don't dress completely in black. I'm just sad. I've been sad for what feels like my entire life, but that's not true. I was happy once and I can vaguely remember what it felt like, but I can't touch it. I can't get that happiness back, I don't know how. That's what depression is to me, knowing what happiness is, but never being able to touch it, to feel it.
One of the worst feelings in the world is loneliness. Sitting in the dark by yourself in the wee hours of the night gently crying. Nobody knows what's going on with you. How could anybody realize what's happening? Everybody you know is resting peacefully in their bed awaiting the new day tomorrow. But for you, there's no difference in the days. They pass monotonously. And before you know it, it's all gone.
When it seems like everything is wrong and will never be right again remember even the darkest nights must give way to day.
The one person who really knows me best says I'm like a cat, the kind of cat that you just can't pick up and throw into your lap. Yeah, the kind who doesn't mind being held only when it's her idea. Yeah, the kind who feels what she decides to feel when she's good and ready to feel it. Now I am prowling through the backyard and I am hiding under the car and I've gotten out of everything I've gotten into so far and I eat when I am hungry and I travel alone. Just outside the glow of the house is where I feel most at home.
She cuts herself. Never too deep, never enough to die. But enough to feel the pain. Enough to feel the scream inside.
You might imagine that a person would resort to self-mutilation only under extremes of duress, but once I'd crossed that line the first time, taken that fateful step off the precipice, then almost any reason was a good enough reason, almost any provocation enough. Cutting was my all-purpose solution. My scars ought to be a charm bracelet of mnemonics, each a permanent reminder of its precipitating event, but maybe the most disturbing thing I can say about the history of my cutting is that for the most part I can't even remember the when’s and the whys behind those wounds. It didn't take much to make me cut. Frustration, humiliation, insecurity, guilt, remorse, loneliness... I cut 'em all out. They were like a poison, caustic and destructive, as though lye had been siphoned into my veins. The only way I could survive them, I thought, was to keep draining them from my blood.
How many cuts could I count? How many could I place in time and context? I had to admit that I couldn't remember the occasion of almost any of them, their catalysts, whether epic or mundane, completely obscured by time. So many moments of supposedly unendurable pain, now utterly forgotten. u start to think, Maybe I don't need this anymore. Maybe I never did I was trying to get equilibrium from two extremes: either I was so upset that I had to cut myself to relieve it, or I was so numb that I had to cut myself to get back to being there.
Let the blood run down your arms then try and tell me everything's okay.
I take the blade and run it gently against my skin, it cuts in deeper and deeper, the blood bursts out and slowly runs down my arm then it stops and the pain goes away.
Cutting doesn't solve anything or take the pain away, but for those few seconds everything is Okay...
Some times in stead of cutting an X on my wrist I make a cross so that the Lord can forgive me for destroying my body, and I also pray that the pain stops as the blood slowly drips onto my sheets.
Crimson tears run down my arm, All the pain and all the harm. My only way to let it out, I wanna scream, I wanna shout. But I don’t make a sound, I keep it inside. I wanna break out, but instead I hide. I sit in my room, and hide in my shell, The life that I’m living, my own private hell. The crimson tears, down my arm they run. I look down at my arm, what have I done?
Every word, another scar, Some people say I cut for attention, Attention is the last thing I want, I tell them I've got my reasons, But what they don't know is, They are the reason I cut, I walk the halls and people talk, Their harsh words cut in deep, Don't they know what they're doing, Every word they say is another scar on my wrist.
As she's breaking down she grabs her razor and she whispers... “this time I'm not okay...”
I never knew that one singe blade could mess up my life...
There is nothing sadder than a child who has barely seen the world, yet who has seen enough of it to know that he does not wish to be a part of it...
You're scared because you don't understand... I'm scared because I do.
“I'm okay...” isn't that what I'm supposed to say?
Depression is merely anger minus the enthusiasm.
I don't cut...
I fell...
I don't cut...
My dog bit me...
I would always tell you,
These easy lies.
When you really didn't know,
I do cut, and cry, and lie.
You don't know me,
So don't even try.
The razor moves along her wrist like a river, so peacefully, as that red water starts to escape, it’s hard to make it stop.
Nothing is more dear to them than their own suffering - they are afraid that they will lose it - They feel it, like a whip cracking over their heads, striking them and yet befriending them; it wounds them, but it also reassures them.
Why? Why do I feel so gone? I am now so distant I just don't belong. Now I'm ripped away from existence. I've become so transparent that I lost all substance. Sitting nowhere, breathing fake air. We don't feel anymore, so we can't care. Its about time I clear my throat. Let the hellish screams out till I begin to float. I'd run a million miles from here, just to get out of this cage and escape from fear. You know you're screwed when you crave pain, you wanna bleed all throughout your brain. The blood in my veins is proof of life. I'm not sure if its there, so I reveal it with a knife. Not me any more, don't know myself. Prisoner in my own skin, I no longer comprehend health. It's all in the family they used to say. It's all in the family so it must be ok. They hurt and rape her, they slash and tear her, they kill and torture, they love the terror. We are our own army so lets retaliate. Fight, destroy, show them real hate. Look at the fire in her eyes. That roaring beast never hides. She lost all she ever had. Blood seeps through her skin cause it hurts so bad. Her shattered heart pounds against her breast, scattered pieces cutting holes in her chest. Slowly she fades as she quickly she drowns. Covered in guilt, sequestered from sounds. Tilting on the edge, about to fall off. Her mind is so lacerated it has become leathery and soft.
That was when I cut my arms with a razor blade as a means of creative expression. I only did it lightly, just grazing the skin, to see the way the blood would bleed out, to make myself look tougher. Not like some of those kids who keep going deeper and deeper, wondering what they look like down to the bone, because it's a world that's so close and yet so far and so dangerous and so much their own. The only world that is their own.
How will you know I am hurting, If you cannot see my pain? To wear it on my body Tells what words cannot explain.
It requires more courage to suffer than to die.
I'm freezing, I'm starving, I'm bleeding to death, Everything's fine.
'But I don't want to go among mad people,' Alice remarked.
'Oh, you can't help that,' said the Cat. 'We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.'
'How do you know I'm mad?' said Alice.
'You must be," said the Cat. 'or you wouldn't have come here.'"
Insanity is knowing that what you're doing is completely idiotic, but still, somehow, you just can't stop it.
"...occasionally I wished I could walk through a picture window and have the sharp, broken shards slash me to ribbons so I would finally look like I felt."
Don't let yourself become so angry that you stop loving, because one day, you'll wake up from that anger, and the person you love will be gone.
Tough times don't last but tough people do.
That's the problem with cutting. Once you start, you can't stop. It's addicting, cutting is my drug. It serves its purpose perfectly. Once I cut, I forget about everything that has been wrong. All that is left is my concentration on my cut. I forget about everything but the pain. Pain has become my world.
I have a lot more of these types of quotes... if you'd like any of them, just PM me, and I'll send you some. :)
Please don't judge people who are struggling.
"It rains the hardest on the people who deserve the most sunshine."
Cupid Diaires Blog Carnival Today - Royal Pretender
My story in the Cupid Diaries is one that is close to my heart – that of George II and Caroline of Ansbach. It's one of the first historical romances I've ever read and it really inspired the love I have for historical fiction.
I discovered this interesting couple back in 1988 when someone sent me a book called "Queen in Waiting" by Jean Plaidy in a care package. While I was waiting to take the Duty Train to Berlin, I sat down at a German Café and decided to give the story a try.
I loved it!
Jean Plaidy is a pen name for Victoria Holt and Victoria Holt was one of my favorite Romantic Gothic authors. I had no idea she did historical fiction, but she totally enthralled me with George and Caroline's story.
Historically, George and Caroline were a love match – a love match during a time when love matches were frowned upon.
George's father was George I of England, but before he ascended to the kingship, he was Elector of Hanover and his marriage was arranged. He couldn't stand his bride, Sophia Dorethra of Celle. He did his duty by her, had two children, then ignored her. She said what was good for the goose was good for the gander and CHEATED ON HIM. Well, George would not be cuckolded. He sent a young and vivacious woman to the tower. She grew old and died in that tower. George II was only a boy when it happened, but it left a mark on him.
When it came time for his son to marry, George I wanted George II to be in love with his wife. Surprising considering the times, but not so surprising considering what he went through in his marriage. His mother, The Dowager Electress Sophia suggested Caroline of Ansbach.
Caroline grew up in the small Baravian town of Ansbach. She was orphaned by ten and went to live with her mother's friend, Sophia Charlotte, the Electress of Prussia. Sophia Charlotte was the Dowager Electress's daughter. Caroline loved living with Sophia Charlotte. She grew up in a sophisticated court and one of her best friends was a philosopher, Liebnez.
Sophia Charlotte was on her way to Hanover to arrange the marriage of Caroline and George II when she died. George and Caroline seemed destined to never met.
The Dowager Electress whispered into her son's ear. Why not have George II marry Caroline? George I liked the idea, but wanted his son to be in love with his wife. He sent George II to Ansbach in disguise to meet Caroline and to see if a love match could be made. After all, his son had faults. He was short, short tempered, and a nag. Caroline was reputed to be beautiful, mild mannered, and quick-witted. George was honored to be courting Caroline – even in secret. After all, she had refused the heir to the Spanish throne. If she was good enough for a king, well, she was a prize to have indeed. When he met her, the sparks flew on both sides and he realized it was more than pride – it was love.
They went on to marry and had 9 children. George I was offered the British throne and he accepted. George and Caroline became the Prince and Princess of Wales. Caroline was the FIRST Princess of Wales since Katherine of Aragon back in 1501.
Eventually, George II took mistresses. Initially Caroline was distressed. Wasn't she enough for him? They were a love match. Then she learned he only did it because he thought it was expected him to have a mistress. With that mind, she picked the mistresses out for him. Still, George loved her until the day she died. On her deathbed Caroline told him to marry again. He said he wouldn't. And he didn't.
Again, it was a story I admired because in a time when arranged marriages were the norm, George and Caroline were in love and then got married.
I hope you enjoy "Royal Pretender" in The Cupid Diaries.
Here's a buy link for the Anthology. Currently, it is available as an Ebook
Monday 21 June 2010
Excerpt Monday - From Matchmaking Amusement in the BeMused Anthology
Isolde turned to look and discovered a tall, male muse with an upturned nose and shamrock green eyes -- a pixie muse! He had long, soft brown hair with chestnut highlights and his skin tone was a little darker than most muses, bordering on olive. He had such a rich, inviting smile it warmed her to her bones. She nibbled on her lower lip for a second, realizing he must also recognize her as a pixie muse, took a breath, and flashed him a smile.
"Ah, no."
"You looked a little overwhelmed. Want some help?"
"Sure."
He offered his hand, palm up, in the traditional muse greeting. "I'm Tristan."
She put her hand on his and a zip of warm tingles pulsed up her arm. "I'm Isolde."
He chuckled. "Uncanny. What namesakes we have -- ancient lovers with a passionate story."
Scarlett Johansson, inspiration for "Isolde."
She felt her cheeks prickle. "It was a passionate story.""Well, you have a lovely name."
"Thank you," said Isolde.
"Ah, so, do you have a hotel?"
"The Wittelsbach."
"I'm there, too." He paused, his lips curving into a sweet smile. "Want to share a cab?"
Isolde loved his friendly demeanor, and his classical pixie looks warmed her to her toes. She wiggled them to make sure they were still tingling.
He pointed to the cab platform and Isolde fell in step beside him. "Are you here on vacation?" he asked.
"Yes."
"How did you hear about this place?"
"Well, my human wrote about it in her last book so I thought I'd check it out," replied Isolde.
They stepped out into the crisp German air. The scent of fresh cut grass made Isolde's wings hum with excitement under her clothes. The sky was cerulean blue without a cloud in the sky, and the sun was as warm as an apple tart pulled right out of the oven. What a lovely place Berchtesgaden was.
They stepped up to the platform and Tristan flagged down a cab.
Isolde helped him load the bags in the back while the cab driver waited in the front seat.
Chace Crawford, inspiration for "Tristan"
"So, you've never been?" he asked."Nope."
"I was here once when my writer was in the military. It's lovely. If you want, I can show you around."
"You hardly know me," said Isolde.
He shut the trunk and looked directly at her. His warm, penetrating gaze shot through her heart like an arrow on fire. "But I'd like to get to know you."
Friday 18 June 2010
Guest Author Series, Welcome Regina Andrews
It's All in the Cards
By: Regina Andrews
June is a wonderful month! Graduations, Father's Day, birthdays.…oh and yes, Flag Day. Flag day? Absolutely. Besides loving my country, which I really do, I have another reason to love Flag Day as well as every other holiday that is considered less-than-major. I'm one of those folks who loves to celebrate even the most obscure occasion.
It all began when I became a greeting card writer fourteen years ago, a job I loved for ten years. Flash forward to today: here we are, the company out of business because the world changed to email instead of personal mail. But I am still a greeting card writer. As they say, you can take the girl out of the social expressions industry, but you can't take the social expressions out of the industry girl. ****sigh****
As it turns out, my husband's birthday is in June. Being a romance writer and greeting card maven (and oh yes, loving him madly, of course), one of my favorite occasions is his birthday. Thus, I recently went into the store to find him some cards.
The selection was mostly humorous, and I gravitated to the other sections. At our company we divided the cards by size, theme and style (rhyme or prose). There were basically two themes for cards for "Husband Birthday": those were 1) Can't Say/Don't Say ("even though I never tell you how much you mean to me I hope you know I love you.") and 2)Gratitude ("To thank you for all that you have give me, all that you have done would take a lifetime…and a day.")
Mostly I found cards that looked like this:
Not really working. He's not the teddy bear type.
Or this:
…which was totally too Valentine-y.
I had a moment of nostalgia where I wished the cards all were like this:
But that was not to be. Realizing that times had really, really changed, I decided to 'join them' (since I can't 'beat them!'). So I sent him an e-card and he loved it!
Regina's latest book, "Destiny's Designs" was released with Desert Breeze Publishing. Regina writes inspirational romance. You can find her book here:http://stores.desertbreezepublishing.com/-strse-68/Destiny%27s-Designs/Detail.bok
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