Alice Sin's blog: "rawr"

I have anger issues.. i'll be the first to admit it...but that dosen't have to drive someone away... I've been through so much shit this past week, its incredible... and you act like it's my fault? My mother is just as bad as your father...school posses not learning, but torture...every fucking day i get harrassed in some way... You saw my worst the other monday... it doesn't get worse than that. I don't go around punching shit for fun. I don't go around cussing at the top of my lungs. I am manic depressive, meaning my moods fluctuate rapidly..it's something i have no control over.. If i had any control over it, it'd be the medication i can't afford... i have no control Get that through your little black head before you go and fucking accuse me of something i have no control over. Get a fucking life Aaron... i can't believe i ever liked you..

wtf... my phone isn't working so you accuse me of it being off... I put my hand down ON the fucking pillow when i was on the phone... and you accuse me of throwing the phone under my pillow where you couldn't see it... every little thing... you can get at... you try...and it fucking rips me apart that you don't trust me enough... that you don't trust me to know what i'm doing... Fine, i'll admit it... i'm not a fucking 18 year old ok? I still live with my mother, and have to put up with her shit until i move out.. but that doesn't give you the fucking right to take away one of my friend! "you can't talk to him anymore. You have no business talking to someone who is older than you" you know what? Fuck you mom. I broke out in tears when you told me.. i looked you straight in the eye and pleaded you don't take away my friend.. the one person i can talk to everyday without judgment...he listens to me.. makes me happier... but you still idn't believe me... and me well.. i'm your daughter...you should trust me more to know what i'm doing... Bottom line... you just.. can't take away who means the most to me...

So... i got off on telling mark about the fucked up dreams i've had.. So i decided to post them. we all have dreams..few have nightmares...and no matter how much you tell your self they aren't real..you always tend to be afraid of them...well this is the nightmare i had Monday night... Snow was falling around me on the ground, and a child was following close behind. The child didn't seem to be real, he was a shadow-like boy. He attacked me..scratched me and made me bleed...I scream and cry for help..desperate..i cry for anyone.. The shadow boy disappears, and i am left to wonder around aimlessly. I come upon a garage, and is called to come inside by a very haunting voice. I look down, and there is the shadow boy..dead at me feet..his head gone. The garage doors slam shut, and i whirl around to try and leave...the stench of rotting flesh and blood fill my breath..as a light flickers in the garage..and written in the boys blood is "you should have never asked for help from the devil" on the door to my way out... dreams...no..let me rephrase that.. nightmares...they suck don't they? ive had these nightmares lately with things i call shadow children. now shadow children are only about 3 feet high or so, they are all black..you see nothing but a shadow..but they are outlined in a dull grey..you see their facial expressions... well this is one dream ive had...the first encounter with the 'shadow children'.. well that is only dream number one... this is number two.. this dream had a little girl instead of a boy: this time we were in like..a parking lot or something..and this little girl is following me...i stop..and she materializes in front of me, and she looks up at me..and says in tis very evil demonic voice.."come on mommy lets go home" and she begins to attack me..she scratches bites and stabs me all over... remember now shadow children only have a dull grey outline..her face and details were outlined along with her body...her face disappears..and says it once more... after a while..i don't know why..but i sit down, and im just sitting there..and this child sits beside me...i like..scratch my knee..and she grabs hold of my arm, pushes at the elbow joint and pops it out of place, and twists it really hard. Now she is saying "don't you want to go home?" i stand, scream, and try to get away from her but i cant.. she then grabs ahold of my hand, pushes my elbow back into place...and begins to drag me off like nothing happened...and then she says in an actuialy child like voice.."come on mommy...lets go home.." the third dream, which is the one that happened was also a little girl... It started off a bit....stupid. First off.. My sister, Jamie, needed an operation, and the only way for her to survive was for me to find a Key blade in a violin case. Now for you non-kingdom heart 1-2 gamers... a key blade is a weapon that looks like a key..[[thats the incredibly stupid part if you didn't know]] continuing on... Im sent to find this key blade in a violin case in my cousins rather large, nearly mansion-like house (which is real, by the way). At the end of every hallway... there is a shadow girl pointing me to where i need to go... Sooner or later she stands in the middle of the apparent doorway i need to go. she looks up at me and disappears.. In this room there is the same child on an operating table. On the child there are wires of sorts hooked up to her.. there was an annoying sound coming from a monitor that was saying she had flat lined... She opens her eyes and sits up, staring at me with the whitest, most god awful eyes i have ever seen... and she just.. stares at me. She pulls down her hospital gown away from her neck and shows me these crude quick fix stitches.. and in a harsh, raspy voice she says "See this?" and points. "I cut off my own head..i tired of it... i want yous" And the child lunges after me. I scream and try to fight her off until i push her against the wall next to the door. Someone heard my screams and slams the door open, literally squishing the child. knob falls off the door from the impact. There is blood seeping from under the door, and on the side there is a little bit of skin and more blood... (see? literally squished) and i just stare at it.. i can't look away...and there..looking at me from the hole in the door from where the doorknob once was.. was the child's eye.. It blinks, and stares at me... and then i wake up... My nightmares get fucked up.

Is it wrong to be scared? I think not. So in the same case.. is it wrong to get scared and act a bit rash? I think not. So... heres what happened... my dad just.. al the sudden bursts in my room to check something.. and he scared me..alot. So as calmly as i could in my slightly shaken state i said 'can't you knock?' And he took offense to it. He then left in a huff.... and told mom. The all knowing, all feared mother from hell. She comes rushing in my room going 'can't you be more respectful?' and starts yelling at me.. and then slams my door shut. I tried to apologize.. really i did. but all i get is.. 'you get on my nerves, i don't want to talk to you.' Is it wrong... to be scared? Should i get scared when someone burst in my room without warning? Yeah, its natural... now if i knew before hand that he'd be coming, i wouldn't have said a thing...but to just get.. you get on my nerves, i don't want to talk to you.... it was a tad overwhelming.. It was horrid to know that at that moment i was hated.. and not wanted my by own family... I'm nothing but a mistake to them... i've always seem myself as such..and i always will... Because apparently.. i'm not wanted.

Yeah so.. check this. I went to a disturbed concert last night where flyleaf stone sour and nonpoint played. I got a hug from all the nonpoint people, a kiss from one on the lips, and autographs. my friend Sarah and i yelled 'FUCK ME' to flyleaf when everything was quiet. Ohh and then the fun starts... I got pulled to the front of the crowd when stone sour was getting ready to play.. Now.. im claustrophobic. I'm having a lot of trouble breathing, and i start panicking. Finally a person from my group catches up to me and see that im having trouble breathing.. and im panicking... but she can't get to me. she yells to me 'PUNCH THEM JESS!' But i can't get free from people. So im screaming, trying to get them off by screaming that i couldn't breath.. but that doesn't work. So.. i push my body against him and get people moving... not a good idea on my part because they pushed back. So... i punched him and continued to scream. I kedep punching the guy, and screaming for help, and finally 5 security guards push people off of me and push me to the edge of the gigantic crowd, and when i leave.. the mosh pit starts. Then during disturbed... Sarah and i (the one who yelled 'FUCK ME' with me) started had banging..hard. Sooo now, after at least an hour of head banging, i have a tremendously fucked up neck, and horrible head aches that haven't left me.

Lets see... what is today? the 28th, right? Yeah, its the 28th. Well yesterday [the 27th for those who aren't familiar with your numbers] at precisely 8:05 AM right before school actually starts i got a note... Some of you know who the guy is, and some of you do not... but Aaron Noland was the cause of it. I got upset/pissed punched my locker twice and sprained my pinky finger. and from then on i cried every time i saw him Now today for the 28th [the day after yesterday for those who don't know your calender] i got utterly pissed.. once more.. and punched the lunch table. with the side of my fist...the side tat had the sprained finger.. So now i have a sprained finger and a bruised wrist bone. If i don't learn from all that.. i don't know what i'll learn from. when will i learn that one boy isn't that much trouble? when will i learn that hurting myself isn't good? when will i learn to stop cutting? when will i learn...

Children.... we've learned something today. never ever! open a Tabasco sauce packet with your teeth when you can't by other means... it shoots up into your nose then you have to snort water...

hey people.. i don't know if you belive in this shit, but i do. I do tarot cards, and i do them well... and i have this urge to help someone out with a question they have. If you have some kind of problem or a question you need outside help with.. come to me. I'll do a reading for you. I've not done one wrong yet.

you didn't hang up on me... which makes me slightly happier.. becasue i know you don't hate me... I know you aren't pissed too much.. i know you won't ignore me.. but theres something i didn't get the chance to tell you.. I am my moms little mistake.. the child she never wanted.. and becasue im here 'its my fault'.. or so she thinks. The strong side of me you've never seen needs to come out.. and im bound and determined to prove that im not weak... I mean absolutly nothing to myself..but i mean the world to some others. The reason why i live is for them. If it wasn't for some of my friends... the ones who have stood beside me for ever.. i don't think i would really be here. The 'certain incident' that pops up in my profile... i was molested by a 66 year old man... which is why it says 'no one over 35 will be excpeted' or something like that.. Back then, i wanted to die.. but i knew i couldn't becasue i would have followers. I don't live for myself... i live for my friends...and that is one thing... i will never lie about. You don't know my life.. and i suppsoe you could say that you don't know me... So here i am.. showing my weak side.. for everyone who cares to see. the weak, sensitive side who deals with other peoples bullshit, and dosn't care much about her own. Its not being strong, or weak, or sensitive that makes me, me... it dosn't make up what holds me together... its my friends that do. Its my friends that keep me sane... and for one brief moment.. you saw the insanity i never wanted you to see... Im not going to hurt myself, nor am i going to do something stupid like swallow 50 pills or down the rest of the vicodine i have...im going to sit here...and convince myself that im not the mistake i've been lead to think i am... Above anything... i want to thank you... becasue after that chat we had.. you showed me what i can be. Not what i am now... what i can be.. and what i can do. Im sorry.. if i hurt you... i never meant to.. i never meant for things to go this far.. i never meant to have this.. infatuation with you.. i never meant to fall in love with you... you the guy who lives thousands of miles away.. you, the one i barely know... And im sorry. So i think.. i'll end on this note... Im not a mistake. Im not going to hurt myself in anyway. I am strong... strong enough to admit that im sorry i hurt you. Strong enough to pick up the phone and confess...that for some bizzar reason i was in love with the 31 year old artist i had barely known... I had never felt that way about anyone.. and.. i don't know what i chose you.. but i did. And once more... im sorry. -Jessica

Sultry air drifted through an open window, making the uncomfortable child squirm within her sheets. Soft, cool cotton could not sooth the scorching heat of the unbearable summer night. The small child of seven years old lay as still as she could, trying to get the air to cool her off. It wasn’t just the air, however, that kept her awake… Her mother and fathers spiteful words were also to blame. Oh yes, they were at it again… Foul expletives rung in her ears as her parents fought with each other once more. It seemed as though this had happened every night since she was born. Mind you, she did not understand what all the words meant; she simply knew that they were harmful words her mother instructed her never to use. She distinctly remembered a time when she was a mere child of two and half, nearly three. Her mothers laughing never left her mind. Since the beginning of her life, her parents fought over her, about her, and every single day, sometimes five minutes or less within each other, she would hear this certain word that struck her interest. At the time, she only knew that this particular word started with what was called ‘the letter D’ She remembered thinking that her parents must have liked the word, and thought it was fun to say… so she would try it. The fighting had stopped... and for one distinct moment… they laughed. Her parents laughed with her, smiled with her, giggled wildly and held her close, but the happiness didn’t last too long. “She gets it from you…” her father stated in a soft voice. “I do believe you are wrong… raven gets it from you. After all you are the one with the foul language.” Her mother shot back. “So this is entirely my fault, is it? You think I am the one to blame for our child speaking? Raven is a smart young girl, whom, unlike you, stays quiet for more then five minutes! It certainly isn’t my fault she uses that word. I blame you.” “Oh you would do that, wouldn’t you? You would blame it on me, when clearly you are the one who tends to use that word more often then once within a minute. She remembered those words being hurtful… and she vowed that she would never, ever, fight with her spouse the way her parents fought. Albeit she was only two and a half, nearly three depending on how you look at it, but she was a very smart child. She knew quite well of her surroundings, and she had a large perspective that parents, such as hers, fought more than normal people Intricate memories echoed within the contents of her hallowed young mind. Ravens shallow thoughts would have continued to progress into an elaborate, imaginative story that proved how she wished her live would have been, but the silence had been shattered like glass as an ear splitting scream echoed within her ears. The small child crept from her bed and slowly meandered to the door, trying her best to be silent. Whence she was in the hallway, she could hear her fathers’ harsh words, her mothers screaming, and stomach knotting noises that made Raven sick. “Louis, please stop this! You’re drunk! I did not mean to anger you tonight, I honestly did not!” “Cease your pitiful crying! I do not know what sins you have committed, nor do I want to hear you tedious recitations. Im not your priest... I am not your husband, either… I am your murderer…" Ravens mother, Emmeline, tried her hardest to flee from the most dangerous predicament alive, but she had that gut feeling she wouldn’t. The young seven year old stood helplessly behind the door, watching as her mother fell to the ground on her knees, pleading for her life not to end that that single abrupt moment. Father, however, would not acknowledge it. “Why must all humans be so pitiful…? Life is so short… and I am afraid, my dearest Emmeline, that yours has just gotten shorter. I am through with you… you have given me hell time and time again, and I shall stand for it no more! No more whining, no more tears… No more little Miss Emmeline…” The tall man shrouded by shadows who took the name of ‘Louis’, Grabbed Emmeline by the small fringe of hair that hung over her right eye, and gripped it tightly. “No more…” He said ever so quietly, so much so that the only way it were to be made out was by the form of his lips.