" Do your demons, do they ever let you go?"

                     -"Rainbow in the Dark" Ronnie James Dio

"I stared, motionless, before the mirror. As always, I stayed there until I'm convinced that there is no glass, nothing, seperating me from the room I see on the other side. I imagine that everything is different over there. Better. There are people, in that world, who I would like. But, like always, my hand hits the glass. I know that if I'd only waited just one more second....."
    -Johnny, Johnny the Homicidal Maniac

Glen Benton

Sometimes, I wonder what it is about me that makes me so incapable of being 'normal', this image of perfection I can't seem to obtain. And even if, one day, I reach this inconsequential expectation, physically speaking, I still have my crappy personality to deal with. My image of perfection is, simply put, unobtainable. Especially, when you consider my short lifespan, or so I predict. I relish in my widely self-destructive lifestyle. 'Live fast, die young, and leave a good looking corpse.'

I have what rehab centers would classify as an addictive personality. The perfect candidate for an addict. A druggie, if you will. I'm loyal to weed but I love all the 'hard' stuff, namely cocaine. I'm pretty sure I have an eating disorder, probably ED-NOS, because I'm defiantly not anorexic skinny. I tattoo my feelings on my body with a razorblade or knife, hell any sharp object. I suffer from depression, insomnia, borderline personality, and ADD. Fun.

I’ve gone to alternative school. I was 'asked' to leave my regular high school after I tried to kill myself and rumors (well we can pretend they are rumors) spread around school that I was/am crazy. Apparently, the high class suburban school couldn't handle it. I'm glad to be gone. Alternative school is better, well at least tolerable.

I have very few friends and have a habit of pushing them away. Well, I push everyone away. People are always disappointing me or pissing me off. Or they change into something I never thought they could. Most of the time though, I reject them before they can reject me. I'm forever plagued with feelings of idealization and devaluation when I view my 'friends', leaving me always a bit detached, never giving too much of myself. What close friends I've acquired are, in fact, cool people. I usually have fun with the people I associate with. Still, I desire more than anything someone I can truly feel loves me and in turn I can love...because I'm sure I've never felt it.

I'm a pretty sexual person though. I just try and keep the emotion out. This rarely ever works because I desire so much to feel loved. I hide my emotions(or at least try). They tend to scare me.

I'm pretty morbid, pretty sick. I like metal and death. Blood and chaos. Destruction and mutilation.

Update: Oct. 22, 2004: I've moved in with my crack-head father and stepmom in a tiny one bedroom apartment as of July '04, after a total of three months spent in Florida. Due to circumstances beyond my control(Fuck you, Mrs. Williams) I had to drop out of school my senior year. I'm working on getting my GED but it's harder than I thought. Not the actual test but getting myself in a postion(finacially, etc.) to do so. The month of October I've been working as an actor at this haunted house with my boyfriend and some other rad people. I dress up and scare people, but mostly I get fucked up, like everyone there. After this though, I'm unemployed. I don't have much to look foreward to these days, no friends or money(I don't get paid until the end of the month) or anything. My birthday's in five days and I remember being sixteen and thinking eighteen would never come...I can't say I'm very excited about turning eighteen. Because I live in Alabama I'm not even a legal adult yet. I resgitered to vote though. I'm voting for the lesser of two evils, Bush. Though I think all the candiates suck, I'd rather not have Kerry's liberal ass in office.

Dec. 29, 2004: I've offically graduated from high school, scoring off the charts on my GED except in Math, which I've never been good at. I'm also working two jobs now, as a waitress and a cashier. I'm making pretty good money, and saving most of it for a trip to Norway in March. I'm going with my boyfriend and his family and not far from my goal. On Dec. 7, 2004, my stepmom shot herself in the chest, leaving behind my dad, me, an autistic daughter, a mother whose already buried one child, a sister, and probably a few others she never thought of. It's been hard, for my dad more than me. But my stepmom and I were close, and though it's been a few weeks, I still can't believe she's gone. GODDAMNIT! That same day, my cousin and his wife had their first child exactly 12 hours after my stepmom's 'time of death'. I'm still friendless, it seems the longer I go the more crippled my social skills become, besides I find that most people are not ones I want to surround myself with anyway. And I work too much to spend much time do anything else. Most of my free time is spent taking care of my dad and with my boyfriend, getting stoned of course.

Classic Punk

For all you dumbass out there who think they are punk or whatever because they listen to the so-called 'punk' they play on MTV( Avril and Good Charolette and whatever other crap has come about)...The Misfits are punk. You are not.