Sugar Rust: March 2009

This is true.
-----------------------
He is my friend.
We meant online.
And I've never seen his face.

He says he expects nothing from me,
I call him silly cause I have everything,
and I'll give to him.
Even though, he treats me like crap,
and never gives anything back.

I know he spends
all his energy in the wrong way.
Fighting against a world,
that isn't fighting back.

He fights against me,
But I'm always there,
pathetically waiting there for hours,
in case he comes to me.
Needs me for anything.

I'll chat with him,
accept his blows,
swearing and yelling,
fighting all my sweet comments
with horrible remarks.

But end of the day,
I'm there.
Waiting for him,
though he won't show.
And if he does.
I'll give him a hug.
That he will shrug off as nothing.
-------------

You know, maybe If I die, and just give up mentally on him, he might realize how stupid he was for hating my gift. *shrugs* life is beautiful and ugly at the same time.

Dream Records

I had this dream that I was in a gang. More of a name then actual combat. I was their leader, Amoeba. Our graffiti and stickers littered everything. The SPACE CUNTS owned. We sold drugs to neon druggies, soaking in the green sun. I lived under the ultra violet light. I wore sparkles and jewls. I had tata decorations, long and beautiful. I wore my strange beauty with pride, and others naturally followed me. Not just my style, but my way of life.

I allured my victims in. With my boyish tan. Freckles littered my body, face. The color of coffee. I wore rags and white leather. Hardly anything more then necessary. I was fast and bright. Blind white eyes, but still able to see.

I had a moth tattoo on the back of my neck. I wore medical gloves under my white and blood soaked fist bandages. I loved boxing. Kick boxing. Anything where I could get a good punch in.

My art studio was perfect. WIDEWIDE doors. Paint Splatters. Fake Leaf hangings. And I could see into the nerdy neighbors room... right next to my room. I often stalked her. Rosy cheeks and mousy brown hair. An uninteresting girl. She was playing with the small kids on the pond at the edge of the roof (The roof was very very big. Slanted and shingled. I know... it doesn't make any sense. LOL)
Anyways, I suprised her when I popped out my window screen, inviting her in. She came in. She blabbed on and on and on. All I wanted to do was quietly lay on the sheets next to her, but she wouldn't shut up. After that, I couldn't get rid of her. Everyday she came, a vampire babypopped up. They looked like rabbits almost. They bit me softly. Like biting a marshmellow. She kept visiting me. And Soon I was overwelmed with Rabbits. When they ran away... I was no longer in my art studio. But in my grandparents common room. Aunts and Uncles ran around. They where dull to me. I locked them away from me by locking my grandmother's front and back door. Then on a secret line, I talked to HIM. He questioned me about the child i kept in the basement, and that fake vampire rabbit. Then I woke up.

I had a terrifying dream last night. I was in my grandmother's basement. It was so cold, gloomy, and I was going insane. I felt like tearing the bedsheets and clawing my nails into the brick. I lived in a dusty chair, and I was making a mess of my skimpy clothes. Every time someone tried to come down the stairs over the gate, I would scream, yell, and throw things at them.

My yelling was so loud and demanding, they looked frightened, so they left me alone. Usually. I HATED them. I wanted them to fall over, go some place far far far away from me. So while I was taking a very PLEASING shower by myself, I called HIM. Now, I don't remember what his name was... but he was a murderer. Not some gangster... more classy. Though, he was sure a pig with women. Not me, of course. Cause I was the one who demanded he be my prince, and he LIKED that I could be controlling, so he fell in love with me. We were deeply in this sort of twisted love. I plowed up the basement stairs and yelled at my family. Looking at them made me disgusted. Filthy little vermin. "Get up at 8. SHARP!" I barked at them. They were surprised I was willing to speak with them. Seeing how I hated their guts. Did they have hope that I would love them again? Not after they did this to me. It practically had broke my weak soul, and all that was left of me was this angry, emotional shell. While they were getting ready, I snuck out and hopped in the front seat of HIS convertible. Criminals were in the other seats. They killed everyone with their guns and bombs, and I sat there, blood splattering on his and my clothes. He laughed at the site of dying people, and touched my emotional face, instantly soothing me.

I HATE This dream. It felt like I was so sad and crazy, When I woke up I realized I had been crying in my sleep. All of my covers were gone. I was still shaking and crying.

Sugar Rust

Welcome to my Universe, Dream awhile?

Destructive or beautiful?

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