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in the heart of a crowded hall, a teenage girl stands, feeling small, lost in a world of conformity's thrall, where her uniqueness seems to appall. her spirit's a flame, fierce and bright, a radiant star in the darkest night, but she's trapped in a world so uptight, where her differences cause constant fight. her thoughts are like whirlwinds, complex and deep, while others around her, in their slumber, sleep, they march to the rhythm of a dull, hollow beat, while she dances to melodies only she can keep. with ink-stained fingers, she writes her tale, on pages where her emotions set sail, a world of words where she can prevail, in the storms of life, she will not fail. her dreams are vast, like an endless sea, but the world around her can't quite see, the potential and passion that she carries free, a masterpiece waiting to be set free. she yearns for acceptance, a place to belong, but society's judgments feel cruel and wrong, in her heart, she knows she's brave and strong, even when it seems like she doesn't quite belong.

in the realm of eternal vows, you swore, a solemn pledge, an oath entwined, a love that knew no bounds, profound on every edge, you whispered "forever," in dulcet tones, our fates forever sealed, but now your promises lay shattered, like an arcane secret, concealed. your lexicon of love, a labyrinth, intricately designed, each syllable a masterpiece, a treasure, endlessly refined, with eloquence, you wove a tapestry, a future bright and endless, but the thread of your devotion frayed, and your rhetoric is senseless. my heart, once held in high esteem, now bleeds a verbose ache, your exit, a lexicon of anguish, in the grandest words you'd forsake, the etymology of love, we shared, now lost in dark despair, your "forever" now a distant echo, a phantom in the cold night air. our chronicle of passion, now a lexicon of grief, a tale of love and loss, a narrative so brief, you vowed "forever," in the dialect of dreams, but left without ado, and now I'm left to parse the words, their meaning misconstrued. the dictionary of our love, once vast and rich in tone, lies scattered, pages torn and frayed, like secrets never known, you promised "forever" in the tongues of love, a language now decayed, and left me in this lexicon of heartbreak, a silent masquerade.

in the intricate tapestry of alternative subcultures, five distinct movements have carved their indelible niches, each exuding its unique aura of rebellion, style, and ethos. the goth, emo, scene, punk, and grunge subcultures, while sharing certain threads of nonconformity, are distinguished by their profound differences in aesthetic, attitude, and philosophy. goth subculture: goths, with their penchant for all things dark and macabre, are often likened to modern-day vampires. their vocabulary is laced with words such as 'lugubrious,' 'sanguine,' and 'ethereal.' they revel in the romance of melancholy and the allure of the otherworldly. gothic attire comprises ebony garments, lace, corsets, and an affinity for the occult. this subculture's core principles revolve around embracing the shadows and finding beauty in the macabre. emo subculture: emo enthusiasts are the poets of the subcultural world, their vernacular rich with emotional depth and introspection. they traverse the landscapes of 'heartfelt confessions,' 'existential yearning,' and 'introspective resonance.' emo style incorporates skinny jeans, band merchandise, and the iconic asymmetrical haircuts. emos place a strong emphasis on the exploration of inner turmoil and the unearthing of genuine emotions, expressed through music and raw self-expression. scene subculture: scene kids are the vibrant, neon-hued revolutionaries of the alternative realm, radiating an aura of 'colorful chaos' and 'electrifying exuberance.' their style is an eclectic blend of colorful, punk-inspired fashion, characterized by graphic tees, tutus, and neon accessories. scene kids celebrate hyper-individualism and pop culture, and they view their world as a canvas for self-expression. punk subculture: punks are the sonic anarchists, their vocabulary reverberating with 'rebellion,' 'anti-authoritarianism,' and 'anarchic fervor.' punk fashion is a rejection of conventionality, featuring leather jackets, spiked accessories, and a diy attitude. the punk ethos is defined by a disdain for societal norms, with a strong focus on political activism and questioning authority. grunge subculture: grunge, often seen as the embodiment of 'apathetic disillusionment,' finds its language in 'disheveled authenticity' and 'minimalistic defiance.' their fashion is a reflection of the no-frills, thrift-store chic – flannel shirts, torn jeans, and unkempt hairstyles. grunge celebrates a sense of nihilism and a rejection of consumerism, valuing the raw and unrefined aspects of life. while these alternative subcultures share a common thread of resistance against the mainstream, they diverge significantly in terms of aesthetics, ideology, and their chosen expressions of defiance. these subcultures, like divergent constellations in the night sky, illuminate the spectrum of human nonconformity, each a unique reflection of the multifaceted nature of the human spirit.  

in the midnight's silent shroud, where secrets lie, where stars in their celestial ballet gracefully vie, darkened souls unite beneath the inky sky, in the shadows of the heart, love's ancient alibi. the moon's ethereal glow, a luminescent guide, as time's river weaves its tale, in shadows, we confide, an enigma woven deep within the love we hide, where echoes of passion linger, never to subside. a clandestine affair, where words are scarcely spoken, a realm where ardor blooms, like vows forever unbroken, in twilight's tender embrace, a bond forever awoken, where love awaits, in hearts forever unspoken. a yearning that defies the world's discerning gaze, where passions blaze like fire in the moon's soft haze, entangled in a dance, a love that forever sways, where love awaits, in the clandestine maze. oh, the secrets that we keep, like treasures in our chest, in the realm of hidden dreams, we find our love's sweet nest, a love that's bound in silence, in the heart's sacred crest, where love awaits, in whispers unexpressed.  

lil song i wrote 4 my band   (verse 1) in twilight's cryptic ambience, we embark on a covert resonance, a passion unconsummated, a rare expanse, two souls entwined in an esoteric stance. (pre-chorus) beneath celestial constellations, we tread, within shadows where desires are finely spread, two spirits enmeshed in the pages of the unsaid, in this clandestine pas de deux, we thread. (chorus) in a world where fervor remains unrevealed, in the silent echoes that are concealed, we navigate the labyrinthine field, unreciprocated love, our hearts' concealed shield. (verse 2) a pilfered moment, a suppressed plea, in this concealed ardor, we find our decree, in the depths of longing, we become free, as the clandestine dance becomes our decree. (pre-chorus) beneath celestial constellations, we tread, within shadows where desires are finely spread, two spirits enmeshed in the pages of the unsaid, in this clandestine pas de deux, we thread. (chorus) in a world where fervor remains unrevealed, in the silent echoes that are concealed, we navigate the labyrinthine field, unreciprocated love, our hearts' concealed shield. (bridge) though the universe may not discern, the fervor that in our hearts does burn, in the clandestine dance, we yearn, a concealed ardor that will forever return. (verse 3) in fleeting instants, our souls intertwine, a love that in secrecy does shine, though unreciprocated, it is our design, to preserve this sentiment as a cherished shrine. (pre-chorus) beneath celestial constellations, we tread, within shadows where desires are finely spread, two spirits enmeshed in the pages of the unsaid, in this clandestine pas de deux, we thread. (chorus) in a world where fervor remains unrevealed, in the silent echoes that are concealed, we navigate the labyrinthine field, unreciprocated love, our hearts' concealed shield. (outro) in the covert recesses of our hearts' expanse, we continue the clandestine dance's trance, a love that no mortal shall ever enhance, from prying eyes and judgment, we advance.  

in the midst of a bustling city, i sat alone, an alien in my own skin. the cacophony of voices, the discordant symphony of car horns and sirens, all of it seemed distant, inconsequential, as though i existed in a separate dimension. the world before me, once vivid and pulsating with life, had become a mere illusion, a tapestry of forgotten moments and faded emotions. the faces that passed me by were inscrutable masks, devoid of meaning. their voices were but echoes in a vast cavern of emptiness. i gazed at my surroundings, the steel and glass skyscrapers that loomed overhead, the anonymous passersby hurrying on their way, and i could not fathom my place within this surreal tapestry. the city that had once been my playground was now a labyrinth, its alleys and avenues leading to nowhere, a tangled web of streets without names. my reflection in a storefront window revealed a stranger. vacant eyes stared back at me, their depth impenetrable. who was this person? had i ever truly known them, or was it all a mirage, a series of fragmented memories and fleeting sensations? i reached for my phone, hoping to find a tether to my past, a lifeline to my identity. but the images and messages it contained were cryptic, like a cipher I could not decipher. the people in the photographs were alien, their smiles a distant memory, their faces obscured by the fog of time. the boundaries between reality and dream blurred, and I questioned the nature of existence. was I real, or was I merely a specter adrift in a world of shadows and illusions? had I ever possessed a true self, or was it an elusive mirage? the city pulsated with a life of its own, a relentless tide that carried me further from the shores of my identity. I longed to grasp the threads of my past, to weave them into a coherent narrative, but they slipped through my fingers like smoke. as I contemplated the abyss of derealization, a profound unease settled in my chest. I yearned to rewrite the story of my existence, to rediscover the forgotten chapters of my life, but the path was shrouded in darkness, a labyrinth without end. the coffee in my cup had turned cold, mirroring the chill that had seeped into my soul. I was lost in a world that had become a riddle, an enigma that defied unraveling. but beneath the uncertainty, a glimmer of hope remained—a belief that, somewhere in the recesses of my consciousness, I could rekindle the spark of selfhood, that I could redefine who I was, forging a new identity from the fragments of my forgotten past.

in the crucible of darkness, i am forged, a soul embattled, by pain, i'm gorged. a father's love, a twisted, fractured thing, a daily tempest, storm of suffering. his breath, a noxious, toxic brew, a hellish potion, my childhood through. inebriated demons, their dance, a vile spree, as i yearn for solace, a heart's decree. a trembling voice, with every brutal blow, his rage, an inferno, an unending flow. a son's tears, a river, unceasing stream, in the shattered mirror, a fractured dream. through jagged shards of my innocence lost, i bear the weight of the emotional cost. in this crucible of anguish, i find my strength, to rise above the torment's monstrous length. with a heart of resilience, i'll break these chains, embrace the scars, the hurt, the stains. for within my struggle, i'll find my way, to heal, to thrive, and seize the day. no longer chained to this torment's snare, i'll rise above, with the strength to bear. with each shattered memory, i'll break free, and find a brighter dawn, a new decree. 

in shadows deep, where demons dance, i bear the scars of my own trance. a battle waged beneath my skin, the war i fight, i cannot win.each cut, a cry for inner peace, my heart's despair, it wont release. these crimson rivers, flowing free, a twisted solace, known to me. a silent scream, a hidden pain, i carve my sorrow, wear the stain. an addict to this twisted art, i tear myself, my broken heart. the blade, a friend, or so i thought, in whispered darkness, solace sought. but in this darkness, chained to sin, i lose the battle deep within. the tears i shed, the silent cries, a soul in torment, never dies. i long to break these chains apart, to heal the wounds within my heart. to face the demons, one by one, and find a light, a rising sun. for in the depths of my despair, i'll find a strength to truly care. no longer shall i bear this shame, i'll learn to heal and end this game. with love and hope, i'll find my way, to brighter skies, a brand new day.

loudness. that's what this class sounded as. yelling and screaming. i covered my ears and placed my head on the table, i hated loudness. my best friend told the supply teacher and took me out of the class. "hey hey look at me, you'll be ok." they said softly i nodded and sat outside as they walked back inside, all i heard was "I hope she dies" from a girl. i know who it was by voice. As the door drew to a close, i heard my best friend tell everyone that they were one punch away from getting their asses kicked.  couldn't fight, everyone in my friend group knew that, even me. i had issues with loud sounds, musc was an ok consept though. if i blast music down my ears, it was ok but if people were yelling, i freak out and tap the table or cover my ears. even ask my friend. it always happens with a supply because people seeme to think that they can get away with a "free lesson". i was called weird by others because of my intrests. I studied poisons and their effect on someone. everyone was told to be careful or to stay away from me so they don't get piosoned by me. i was also called a witch for liking crystles, just shows how much people are truly a**holes. people seemed to think that i could pioson them. it wasn't true. my notebook was filled with different types of poisons, their effects, where to get them legally and if they can kill or not. people called me the "poison girl" or "poison rose" a play off of my name ivy-rose. As the lesson drew to a close, i started to pack away. "book, pencile case, plushie, folder... i think that's everything" i mumble to myself softly. i had my muffelers on because cover lessons get too loud, it caused me to have stimulation issues. "oi freakshow! how does it feel to wear those f***ing things?" a chav yelled "shut up, she can't hear you" her friend yelled "acctually, i can hear you. although i wish they made me unable to hear you voices because everyting you talk, i feel a braincell kill itself just to get you to stop" i resorted,  the rest of my classmates were shocked. "so you wanna f***ing fight?" the braindead idiot of a girl spoke, clearly offended. "me? fight a chav? no thanks, i'm allergic to cheap ass foundation, try fighting someone who does give a lying f***" i said in a happy tone of voice. they laughed, not expecting that responce, i was sent out.the teachers were awear of my stimulation issues, the PE teacher knew i hated loud noises and lets me sit out and read my book. i like studying poisons though, makes me feel happy. the head of year was also awear of this and allowed me to sit in her office 

hi my name is craig and my chemical romance makes me dance and heres a pic of me

I just realized that...I remember absolutely nothing about my past self...except for this blog. I had friends very dear to me, only a few I know after infection. At least they still love me!Look at my semi-well preserved profile. Look at it. Its my previous self still trying to see the light of day. I know she wants to come out and play again, wish I could invite my past self over and we could play Resident Evil together. I know she would adore that. *cries*

Today was truly just another day, but I did get some enjoyment out of it. When I first woke up, it was around 5:00 AM, if I remember correctly. But honestly, I was so tired from the previous night's late showing of the FNaF movie that I couldn't stay up to save my life. I went back to bed and woke up again around 6:00 (5:53 to be exact, not sure why I can remember such an irrelvant detail), and at that point my cat had come to join me to sleep! The moment I rolled over, he took my spot, and I insulted him for doing so. I felt a little bad afterwards, but I also found it a little funny. I didn't stay in bed for long, though, and I decided to move to my dad's "mancave" to sleep there instead. I had music playing in my ear while I slept, which, yeah, was probably a bad idea, but I didn't really care then and don't really care now. When I woke up again, it was late 7 AM. I know this because it was a little past 8 when I put the last cup noodles in the microwave to eat for breakfast. My memory blurs when I try to remember what I did after eating my cup noodles. I know I let the dogs out prior to eating and let them in before I finished, but what I did after is just...gone. I can't remember it. Not that it really matters, but I just feel like a blog of the day should have every detail of the day. Tommorow I'll take notes on the day to try and make sure this doesn't happen again. My memory picks up at me going back upstairs to my dad's mancave and laying back down. I'm not sure for how long, but when my parents came back from the gym, I pretended to be asleep to try and get out of having to clean the house (it didn't work). To be honest, the cleaning didn't take too long, and I love being in a clean house; I just HATE cleaning. It's so boring and offers nothing besides being boring. I cleaned anyway, though; I'm not stupid. I just really hated every second of it. I did get to relax for a while after cleaning, and then my mom asked me what was for dinner. We had had takeout every day of the week so far, and I had really missed home-cooked meals, so I asked her if it was being cooked or if we were buying something. She thankfully said cooked, and I asked for steak. She said sure, she had to go to Walmart anyway. I was really happy to hear she was going to Walmart because I had wanted to get some long-sleeve shirts from the men's aisle, and Walmart was the perfect place to get them for cheap. She was a little irritated that I had asked her to come with because she wanted to get a nap before dropping me off at work, but she took me anyway! She wanted to stop at starbucks before going, and the Starbucks we went to didn't have an order ahead, so we were going to have to go in, but the moment we got to the place, we found out the registers were down. We had to go in a long drive thru and honestly, I was surprised at my mom's (and other people's) dedication for some coffee. Just make it yourself, man. My mom was shocked when I said I didn't want anything. She tried getting me a cheese danish, but the store was sold out. I told you I didn't want anything! So you can imagine I was glad when they didn't have any. Next was Walmart, and we ended up getting way more than steaks and some shirts. I got my shirts, obviously, but also some chapstick, pajama pants, boyshorts, and a tropical mango calypso (it was delicous, by the way). Finally, we went to McDonalds. I used to work there, and I hated it, so I refuse to eat any of their food. My sister wanted to claim some of her deals from her app, and I was forced to go in. I felt so icky, honestly, and I REALLY hated it. Moving on, I finally went to work. I worked from 2-6 today, and it went by at a pretty good pace. I was mostly on floor, so my back didn't hurt too much once I got off. Not too many annoying customers either. Well, except for one. This lady brought up a light-up pumpkin and asked if it was 70% off; it was 60% off. She then made a big deal about it. I had to call a manager TWICE and she would just not let up. It was obvious I was pissed by my face and tone of voice. I hate when customers make a big deal out of nothing, and she was giving me a crazy attitude as well. Just typing it out makes me irritable. Eventually she got her 70% off, but damn! It was never that serious!!! Not much happened after that. A few cowokers I liked came in, and we chatted until it was time for me to leave. When I was clocking out, two managers were in the break room and started asking where I had been for the past few weeks. I just told them I wanted a few weeks off to hang out with friends instead of working, and apparently they thought I had just up and quit! As much as I'd like to find a higher-paying job, I do like my job. Well, as much as you can like a retail job. When I got home, I just changed out my jeans and put on some shorts. I've been listening to music on my speaker for a while. The only time I went downstairs was to eat and clean up the kitchen. The day wasn't too eventful, but it wasn't super boring either. Maybe tomorrow will be a bit less blah. I'm opening and maybe getting a retwist, but that's all I got. Anyways, goodnight.

PLS PLS PLS I HAVE LIKE NOTHING TO LISTEN TO AND I'VE BEEN LISTENING TO THE SAME ARTISTS/BANDS ALL THE TIME LMAO XD

BallsTy for reading :) 

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