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| Just to move the previous entry out of the way; here's a drawing I did. Been doing cutesy sort of emo drawings of sorta stick people lately. <3 them to death.
On another note; don't talk to stupid people. Their stupidity is contageous...
That is all...
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| I don't know what's wrong with me. I've been feeling...off lately. It's the only way I can think of describing it.
There was a brief moment where I thought of cutting again, but I got over that. Then came the homicidal thoughts towards my family. Today I actually thought of opening the car door whilst it was still moving just to see what would happen. Then, when we were parked in the carpark of the Golflands motel, I toyed with the idea of just getting out of the car and walking away (my family had left me in there to watch over it whilst they took a look at the room we would be renting our final weeks here). The only reason I didn't do it was because they came back too soon. I've had - fantasies, I suppose you could call them - of cutting the brakes of the family car; I'll just sit in the back seat and wait and see what happens when my Dad finally realises that the brakes aren't working. Then we can all die together. In a blazing car wreck.
What's wrong with me?
Maybe it's a bid for attention. I don't know. Would you notice me if I were dead? Will you notice the blood? I know someone will read this and ignore it like usual. It's Matilda being emo again. That's ok. It's not your fault.
I know this doesn't make sense. I'm trying to tell you this as best as I can.
Maybe it's because I feel so alone. I really don't know. Why should I? I'm not alone. I just feel it - I feel twisted inside. I feel like something's horribly wrong.
I'm trying to ignore it. But it's getting to the point where I feel like I HAVE to do something. Or else...
I want to scream. But I can't. Because then the parents will ask what's wrong. And I can't tell them. Because I've never been able to tell them anything. They don't listen. They hear some times, but that's not the same as listening. And they won't do anything anyway. They didn't believe me about the voices. It's God talking to you, dear. Yes, God tells me to kill people. They didn't notice the scars. The one time I told them that I thought something might be wrong with me mentally, they didn't even stop to consider it. You're not crazy, dear. I didn't think I was crazy, just that what was happening to me, mentally, wasn't normal.
I don't know anymore. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe not.
ET; I want...I don't know. Not just to talk - because I don't know what I'm talking about anymore.
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| Yeah, yeah...I've jumped the bandwagon
www.myspace.com/spazmickitty/
Add me...
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| Three more days until I turn 18.
Bah humbug! I'll legally be an adult. Now that's just annoying.
I've decided to put up another birthday wishlist like I did last year. Just because I have nothing better to do eh.
Matilda's Birthday Wishlist 2006:
1) Mirrormask DVD
2) a new digital SLR camera (preferably something from the Canon EOS range)
3) a hat stand to go with the top hat that the siblings will be getting me
4) a nice cane to go with the hat and stand (or staff; either or)
5) Edgar Allan Poe's Tales of Mystery and Madness illustrated by Gris Grimly
6) to grow another 10 inches or so
7) a Heavy Red corset, cincher, dress or skirt
8) a print account on dA
9) a little black kitten
10) something to make me happy
I'm really just bored, eh...
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| There is a story behind this picture but if you want to know what it
is, you'll have to go to my deviantart account to find out because I'm
too lazy to type it all up again.
http://scribbles-dementia.deviantart.com/
Just click on the same picture entitled 'my box, your dog'
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