falling off the wagon

I have a shopping addiction. I admit it. Im addicted to shopping and mostly what I buy is little crap that I don't need. Some stuff that I even wonder why I bought it!
Well I was doing really well. I only shopped a little and with my own money. I was proud of myself. But then my grandpa got sick and we have to take care of him at our  house.
And well,  I fell off the wagon big time! I was buying everything and anything that remotely interested me even if it was only for a moment. and i just needed that moment to buy it, leaving me to wonder why did I buy that?
Anyway it got worse and worse until I ended up cutting my arm with a pin trying to carve the words : bad girl"  It was when I realized I needed help not only with shopping but with my cutting problem.
so I called my therapist and set up an appointment as soon as possible.
We talked and soon got to the root of  my shopping and cutting problem. It was due to my PTSD. and so if anyone is reading this blog and has a shopping problem I just want to say I know how you feel and where you're coming from. dont despair admit you have a problem and talk to a doctor about seeing a professional to help you with your problem!

Sorry I havent been posting lately but Im back! (Again)

There has been a lot of things that have been happening in my life lately. What I really want to talk about is the great guy I met. We met online, and we clicked right away. HE a poet, ME an artist of paints, graphite and graphic design.  He is the sweetest person I ever met. and I have gone on a lot of dates. im not a slut though, my last romance was 4 years ago and it ended badly. Since then I have been afraid of dating. But that all changed when I met this wonderful man. We went on our first date yesterday. We went to a bookstore that had a cafe in it. We talked about art, poetry, being published. YES HE'S A PUBLISHED POET how awesome is that???? we laughed we smiled and the time went by way too quickly. I think I'm falling in love. a real kind of love. not puppy love or school girl love. But please dont panic, I'm taking it slow. I promise. anyway this is just a quick update on whats happening in my life

there it was. on top of the old grand stair case that gave way the the tragedy of time. It was a music box, trimmed with gold and silver round it's outer shell. if one were to look at it, they would think it was some gift left behind after the manor was mysteriously abandoned. but the music box held a sercet, a secret to the reason why the house was abandoned and sold to the hands of time. if one were to open the music box.....oh the tales it told with it's dancing figures in the center of the box twirllin with the haunting medloy that the music box sang softly. The figures would dance and twirl around and around. But the medoly was more than a song of olden times, it was the waltz to where the spirits danced to. spirits entered with graceful movement from the windows, to watlz with the couple dancing in the center of the ballroom. The same couple that was held in the music box. the music box was the only music to be heard with the ghostly ball. beautiful and chilling were the dancing figures with their sweaping ball gowns of the 19th century. They would dance and dance.....until the music box was closed, and as quickly as they came, they vanished, except for the couple that were in the music box, in silence, the couple watzled arcoss the floor of the haunted ballroom, they were lovers at one point till a terrible tragedy crushed the couple. a tragedy of jealously, a tradegy of murder. for there was another man who longed to dance and love the woman who was held in her lover's arms as they danced across the ballroom. An unstable fool was the jealous fool, a duke. he hated the woman's lover. HE should be in her arms like that for he loved her for years. But everytime he tried to win her over, she held on to the arm of her lover. She scorned the fool with the flowers he brought her daily, without fail, she threw the flowers back at him. the poor foul he longed for her. and was determined to have her as his wife. poor fool. for she would not have him. She was already in love, with the simple painter that she always danced with. The figure she held in the music box. The duke, mad with love and hatred, swore he would have her as his wife....even if he had to kill. even if he had to murder the painter, an insult was the painter in the eyes of the maddened duke. why should she love such a poor man, when she could have all the riches she could dream of, when she could marry a duke. No, she loved the simple and poor painter who painted landscapes, and the beauty of the sky. no, this poor painter would not take the duke's maiden away from him. He became insane for the love of the woman, he dreamed of her day and night, he saw her face everywhere in the mirror he looked in to shave his beard, in the carriage that he rode in. in the windows of his palace. he heard her laughter in the wind, in the horses' whine, in the streets, in the rain. He was insane with his frustration and denied love. he no longer cared about anything else. He let his manor go to waste, he spent all of his fortune on his desire with his denied love

THE FAIRIES William Allingham An Irish folklore

I was doing some research on Irish folklore and came upon this charming poem, please enjoy Happy St. Patrick's Day :)

Up the airy mountain,
  Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting
  For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
  Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
  And white owl's feather!

Down along the rocky shore
  Some make their home,
They live on crispy pancakes
  Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
  Of the black mountain lake,
With frogs for their watch-dogs,
  All night awake.
High on the hill-top
  The old King sits;
He is now so old and grey
  He's nigh lost his wits.
With a bridge of white mist
  Columbkill he crosses,
On his stately journeys
  From Slieveleague to Rosses;
Or going up with music
  On cold starry nights,
To sup with the Queen
  Of the gay Northern Lights.
They stole little Bridget
  For seven years long;
When she came down again
  Her friends were all gone.
They took her lightly back,
  Between the night and morrow,
They thought that she was fast asleep,
  But she was dead with sorrow.
They have kept her ever since
  Deep within the lake,
On a bed of flag-leaves,
  Watching till she wake.
By the craggy hill-side,
  Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn-trees
  For pleasure here and there. p. 5
Is any man so daring
  As dig them up in spite,
He shall find their sharpest thorns
  In his bed at night.
Up the airy mountain,
  Down the rushy glen,
We daren't go a-hunting
  For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
  Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
  And white owl's feather!

My dirty little secret

I have a secret. Not a big secret, nothing deep and dark and earthshaking. But a secret none the less. What might it be? Could it be a secret lover? or maybe a juicy murder? of course not! But its a secret that Im not that proud of but shouldnt be embarrassed of this secret either.


I have an addiction. No I'm not a drunk, or smoke weed. I'm not addicted to drugs and snort white crap up my nose. Its a quiet addiction. An addiction that most ppl dont really notice... or know what to look for in this addiction. What might it be?


I admit it. Im addicted to shopping.  It all started when my Grandma died of brain cancer last summer. I was very close to my grandma. She helped raise me along with my mom and grandpa.  We played dolls together. Went to the store together. She went to  Russia with my mom to adopt me. She was one of my best friends.


Soon after her death it started, nothing big, just 5 dollars here, 6 dollars there.  It was a lot of small things, mostly cheap costume jewelry. like a red queen necklace, or a mad hatter ring. Sometimes credits for a game. But it doesnt matter what I bought. it was never enough. It would give me happiness for a day maybe two days then it got old, and forgotten. Then I wanted to buy more... and more... and more....


It got to the point where i maxed out credit cards, got my mom's accounts blocked. But i still found ways to shop. I went to stores and shopped. Often for things I didnt even need or remember why I wanted it in the first place. It didnt matter. I just needed the feel of something new. 


It was easy to shop at stores because my grandfather gives me a generous allowance every week.


I realized that I needed to stop or I would run my family into debt. It was hard to stop shopping. I still have a hard time. I stopped cold turkey. and it was harder than hell. I wanted an excuse to shop for everything and anything. But everyday I fought to curb my shopping everyday. 


I earn my money now. so now Im learning the meaning of a dollar. Because once my money for that week runs out, thats it, I have to earn it by doing chores around the house, it's not just handed to me anymore. Im also not allowed to shop online, or by myself. I only take a certain amount of money with me everytime I go shopping.


so there's my little dirty secret I'm addicted to shopping.

Im BAAAACCKK!

Hey everyone, or anyone, I'm back. It's been years since I last posted, and a lot of shit has been happening since. But I don't really feel like going into all that. Right now I want to talk about how art school is going. I got accepted into CIA.. Cleveland Institute of Art. I'm in my sophomore year, and I'm majoring in Drawing.

Now some people, ok ok, a lot of people ask me : "what kind of job are you going to get with that major?" and similar comments, questions, etc.

This is what I have to say: I'm not looking for a job, I'm building a career. There's a huge difference between the two. A job isn't a career, it's just something you do to pay the bills, order a pizza, etc, a job can become a career if you become passionate about it. A career is something that you love to do, and you grow in many ways, it's a passion, and the money is a bonus. Its not about the money, while a job is about the money.

I really don't care or would be embarrassed if I lived at home for the rest of my life. I want to wake up everyday and get pumped up about the day and what I do. I don't want to hate getting up and dragging myself to my job.

beyond the winter garmentsof these trees' fleshlay spirits of souls forgotten among the newly birthed December snow,and if you care to join me amongst this winter tale, come with anew hearts o'er flowing withchild's laughter of innocent play.

listen, for softly they whisper forgotten winters' lullabies.

amongst this December night's wind,

They have a story to share for those who wish to hear with gentle hearts thy Lord finds pure.

Step ever so gentle, love, least you abandon the meaning of their stay this Winters eve.

as we walk past their weary refuge of trees left in slumber,thy eyes of Winters children past gleam dance within the icicles that make they winter home among branches.

With silence you can hear the children of past

Winters laughter of innocent charm

throughout the wearied land that lay in awaiting slumber
for the day of peace is at hand.
Their winter tale of love breathes
enchantment throughout the land.
Long a go in a time forgotten by modern man,
these children of forgotten winters
played with hearts of peace and love,
they listened to the stories fearies of snowflakes told,
and laughed as the madien of snow that children's hands gave birth to
danced for them with perfect grace
they sat in mediviel castles of white snow;
though they grew old and wearied by the hand of society
their laughter still rings clear
throughout the snow they chastened
and engraved their childish games of winter charm
within each falling snowflake.
Listen dearest heart of hope, listen for they call out
to bless you with Christ's tidings of joy and love divine.
And if the heart of hardened men bare down on you,
walk with me my love through Winters laughter
and forsake the pain of wars brought by cold hearts
of material lust.
The spirits of winters past
touch your shoulder
though you turn to see their face,
they have gone
but with their stay they give their gift of child's love.
Though this last not forever,
the memories and joy they bring last for eternal.
The children's hands wrap around your arms
though their faces are not seen,
the presences that they leave behind,
we hold and cherish for all time.
Long a go
many years before our eyes saw this earth,
These children share they story
on each winter evening
when hearts of love and hearts of joy
walk throughout the lands of whiten blankets cover,
where children of winters past
once shared a childish game of love and joy,
with in their own world of enchantment
and diamond snow,
where faeries dance throughout.
Though we may go our seperate days,
forget not the day the children of winter past shared their
winter tale of hope and love
of faeries and of snow madiens.
of Medivel castles
a meaning of hope rests in the trees we past.
Walking through winter's enchantment
spirits of thy hollow worlds dance within skys of white enchanment

he never knew my namehe only knew my face,

ANd when the night faded awayhe was gone.

AND all I have left is the confusionand the pain that never goes away,

and My sweet solitude,

comes to find me once again,

sweet solitude of mournful joys

singing it's lullaby of regret in my ear,

Sweet solitude All I ever find is you,

you wrap your cold embrace around my mournful life.

HE said he loved me once,he held me close once,

HE told me stories of tomorrow,

but for me, tomorrow never comes.

But his words of love turn to words of pain,

ANd my sweet solitude,
my refuge of my mournful heart,
Making love to keep me warm.
Sweet solitude,
my romance of darkness,
AS I bleed my sorrows away,
as my flesh becomes my canvas,
sweet solitude ,I love you
and forever you are mine.
My sweet solitude,
come find me again,
take me away like you always do,
my soul lies dead among thorns,
just like his love for me is dead and gone
And over time he will forget me,
though he swears I'll be in his memory
I know that he has already forgotten me..
AND I'll escape now from this world,
this world that never was and never will be.
and return to me sweet solitude,
I'm sorry I ever left you,
my sweet, gentle, loving Solitude.
ANd when all was said and done,
I'll never have arms to hold me.
BEcause I am sweet solitude's.
Return to me
sweet refugee,
I am everything,
I am only the pain I feel,
I am anything but real,
I am nothing.
I love you sweet solitude.
Don't leave me, alone .
I can not breathe with out you,
my gentle solitude.
AND when the night comes,
return to me sweet solitude,
I am nothing with out you.
Please be forever here,
you who chase away my fear.
You who dry my tears that I;ve shed,
you who love me even if I'm dead.
I love you,
don't leave me alone sweet solitude.
ANd when all is said and done,
you who lingers in the shadows of night,
returning to me,
I pray of your forgivness,
sweet gentle solitude.
I never meant to harm you.
I will never leave you sweet solitude.
WE were always meant to be,
you and me,
I need you sweet solitude

25 fun thinga to do in an elevator

Ok I was once stuck in an elevator and somehow today i started thinking about random things one can do in an elevator:
1. When there's only one other person in the elevator, tap them on the shoulder and then pretend it wasn't you.
2. Push the buttons and pretend they give you a shock. Smile, and go back for more.
3. Ask if you can push the button for other people, but push the wrong ones.
4. Call the Psychic Hotline from your cell phone and ask if they know what floor your on.
5. Hold the doors open and say your waiting for a friend. After a while, let the doors close, and say, "Hi Greg. How's your day been?"
6. Drop a pen and wait until someone goes to pick it up, then scream, "That's mine!"
7. Bring a camera and take pictures of everyone in the elevator.
8. Move your desk into the elevator and whenever anyone gets on, ask if they have an appointment.
9. Lay down the twister mat and ask people if they would like to play.
10. Leave a box in the corner, and when someone gets on, ask them if they can hear ticking.
11. Pretend you are a flight attendant and review emergency procedures and exits with the passengers.
12. Ask, "Did you feel that?"
13. Stand really close to someone, sniffing them occasionally.
14. When the doors close, announce to the others, "It's okay, don't panic, they open again!"
15. Swat at flies that don't exist.
16. Tell people that you can see their aura.
17. Call out, "Group Hug!" and then enforce it.
18. Grimace painfully while smacking your forehead and muttering, "Shut up, all of you, just shut up!" (now that's fun)
19. Crack open your briefcase or purse, and while peering inside, ask, "Got enough air in there?"
20. Stand silently and motionless in the corner, facing the wall, without getting off.
21. Stare at another passenger for a while, then announce in horror, "Your one of THEM!" and back away slowly.
22. Wear a puppet on your hand and use it to talk to the other passengers.
23. Listen to the elevator walls with your stethoscope.
24. Make explosion noises when anyone presses a button.
25. Stare, grinning for a long time and then announce somthing random like "im wearing new socks!!"Hope you enjoy! ( now go out there with tighty whitieas or a pair of boxers on your head and have some creepy yet funny fun)

The Cat Who Healed My Spirit.

It has become fairly common knowledge that cats are great therapy for nursing home residents, and it is a joy to see eyes light up when a cat is brought in by a visitor. Even more fortunate are those patients of health care facilities who have a cat in residence. Try petting your kitty when you are stressed from the activities of an unusually busy day. You'll find those tense shoulder and neck muscles relaxing, your heart rate slowing, and an intense feeling of pleasure flowing through your entire body, as all those stresses flow out and relaxation flows in. Those are the benefits of therapy cats to nursing home residents and health care facilities, and they can be equally applied to the rest of us. Therapy cats are especially valuable when interacting with Alzheimer patients, by stimulating both memory and forgotten emotions. Cats are also very helpful for patients with seizure and emotional disorders. They can sense a seizure coming on, and can sense if their owner is sad, stressed, or even suicidal. they use their 'kitty' powers to help relax the owner to a safe state of mind and body. Ways that they do this is by purring, rubbing up against their owner and wanting to play. the purr of a cat is extremely helpful and calming to a patient. ( there's a little background information for you, so I can continue my story without you, the unknown reader, being extremely confused.)
I am lucky to have my own little therapy cat. He wasn't adopted for being a therapy pet, but as a friend for me. We went to an animal shelter one hot early hot July day to finally get a kitten for me since i was pestering my mom for one for years. We walked in and Our jaws dropped to the ground because of all the homeless cats all looking for a home....any home. this was a shelter that gassed the 'unwanted' cats. ( the cats were labeled 'unwanted' after three weeks in this shelter) we took our time looking for the 'right' kitty for me. I picked up hundreds of kittens, and cats, all wanting to go home with me, my mom had her own hands filled with her share of kittens and cats. I just wanted to take them all home with me, save them from this kind of life. to Save them from death. but I could only have one. So after hours of looking into the soulful eyes of so many cats, i stumbled upon a black and white young cat. He was severely under weight. I looked at his papers... he had three different homes that all brought him back. and by the date that the last owner brought him in....he didn't have long to live. I scooped this lonely cat into my arms and instantly I knew. this funny little cat was my cat. My mom was more into a grey kitten. but I wanted this cat. when my mom picked him up, he flopped all over in her arms, making my mom ask "is this cat sick?", the answer was no, it was not sick, it really liked us. that was it. We adopted him right away. My grandmother wasn't too happy to have a cat in my mom's house. She would even tease the cat by making funny faces causing the cat to race up to my room. we named the cat taffy. My grandmother was the one who named him. It was a happy relationship. A cat who needed love, and a girl who had so much love to give.
Then my depression hit in the 8th grade. I was suicidal, cutting, and extremely depressed. taffy sensed it right away and would stop what he was doing and jump into my lap purring like crazy. it helped me a lot. he knew when I was in the clinic for being suicidal, and he wouldn't eat until I came home. And when my mom was crying because I was in the hospital, taffy would do something he never did with anyone but me.....he hopped into my mom's arms and wouldn't leave until my mom stopped crying. I got over my depression half a year later. the bond between me and taffy grew even stronger until he was known as MY cat.
Two to three years passed, Cat and girl couldn't be any happier. until i got into a very bad relationship where i was severely abused and forced to perform sex acts. A few months later he raped me to knife point, and threatened that if I told anyone, I would become another orphan. He told me every detail to what he would do to my family if I ever told. I kept it my secret. but Taffy could see right through me, I started cutting again, and became addicted to it. Taffy would rub up against me and my scarred up arms purring....as if to tell me "everything will be okay."
I finally broke down and was admitted to the hospital for suicidal idealation. But I kept my secret for another half a year. In and out of the hospital I went. taffy always helping me deal with life when I was home. Finally i told someone that I was raped by my ex-boyfriend. I finally began to heal. I never reported him to the police in fear for my family. ( which turned out OK, he was imprisoned for raping another girl who DID press charges.)
My family and friends were there to support me as I slowly healed from the trauma. Especially Taffy. he was always there for me, purring me to sleep at night, sleeping on top of my head. it was very comforting. Around the same time, I began having seizures. Taffy began to get used to this new adjustment and soon tried to help me deal with it. Every time He sensed a seizure coming on he would howl and rub against my leg.
Taffy was and is more than a pet to me. He is my best friend and my therapy cat. He helps me when I'm depressed. he can make me laugh with his funny habits.....such as stealing jewlery and putting it into a little pile in the attic of my doll house. everytime he hops, I know he stole something else shiny. He has had various items in his little pile.....such as hanger handles, pins, paper clips, earrings, bracklets, necklaces, even shiny cloth, shiny doll shoes from glass dolls, even my mom's car keys!!!!
Taffy has helped me heal through the hard times just as much as my family and doctors did. He is the best cat that anyone could have. Even after adopting a sheltie, and another cat, and a rabbit, Taffy remains my favorite. I love Taffy because he is the cat that healed my Spirit.

This is My Vietnam

life keeps on dropping bombs and I keep score. every day I fight a battle against the memories, against the pain. people are lunatics, they like to push my buttons and say I'm not good enough.
they'd kill to see me crumple and fall, they'd kill to see me defeated, so I hold my head up high and look at the sky and wait for more bombs to fall, because this is my Vietnam, and I'm at war. I am strong, I am beautiful no matter what they say, words can't hold me down. And this is my Vietnam, and I'm at war. Sometimes I ask: what do you except from me? what am I not giving you? what can I do for you to make me ok in your eyes? they give me their demands, to change my beliefs, to change my goals, to change my soul, so i keep fighting, and they keep on dropping more bombs. but I just keep score, because I know I will always win because I have faith on my side, and my army is of angels that protect me from the wounds. They help me heal so I can get up and fight again. So I can show this world there's more to me than bitterness and lies that they have created, I'll watch the bombs as they fall, and I'll keep walking forward to show them I am strong, I am beautiful, I am everything I wanted to be. This is my Vietnam, they keep on dropping bombs and I keep score. i don't need the media;s approval, they laughed and scorned at Christ, they laughed and scorned at Ghandi, so I follow them in their peaceful ways, I won't be the weak ones, who drop bombs, I'll be the one standing strong, with my head held high For I know I can never lose if I have faith on my side. So let them drop their damn bombs, let them weary themselves with war. I won't fight back with blood, but with peace and love. For in this world we have but one chance to make it, to do it right, to make a name for ourselves that people with be proud to say for generations to come. To be that change I need to see in the world. to turn the other cheek and forgive. For they are nothing without faith, though they think that they can win with their useless bombs, they do not see that they can not harm me. For I have faith on my side. They will crumble and fall in the end, while I stand strong, cuz the winner takes it all, and the loser has to fall. they may roll their dice, their minds as cold as ice, but the winner takes it all. So let the bombs continue to fall, because this is my Vietnam, and I'm at war. i don't need to know what you expect from me, I don't want to know what I can do for you to make me ok in your eyes. Because it doesn't matter, it never will, i can never fail, though this is my Vietnam, I am the one standing with her flag strong. I can teach you about freedom, about love and peace and all the great things that we take advantage of, but i won't teach you to hate, the world can do that for you. Fight back with love, not words or fists, for you give em a punch, they bleed, but the wound goes away, while the peace will always stay if you have faith in yourself, keep trusting God, you have an army of angels to protect you. never give in, never lose yourself to the bombs of society. make something of yourself, make your name known, love yourself no matter who you are. If you're gay that's ok, if you're straight, refuse to hate. skin is only color, love lasts foever. don't ever give in, don't ever give up, hold on it's gets better than you know. Because we all bleed the same way, and we all have the same things to go through, this is my Vietnam, I'm at war, but i can never lose I have God on my side, so bring on the pain, bring on the hate, I won't fall, and if I do, the one God wants me to become will catch me in a valley of angels, so go ahead take your best shot, you can never hurt me, you will never kill me, for I am strong, I am beautiful, i am everything that I want to be. i have a long road to journey, but I am not afraid of storms for i am learning to sail my ship. And I have a dream, a song to sing to cope with anything. I sing that song in my heart, my song is hope. it is my sword, my shield my armour, The world won't care who you are if you don't make a name for yourself, even then they might laugh and drop their bombs of hate on you. never give up, and never give in. Because you can never lose if God is on your side. So fight for hope, and fight for peace, fight for what you believe in, they May call you names, and hit you, but stand strong, you have an army of angels to guide you through this war. life's a bitch, it isn't meant to be easy. But that makes it all the more worth it. Be who you are, be proud of what you have, it's not the cards you hold, it's the ace you hide up your sleeve, play it well, and with God you will never fail. Society's crazy, society's mad, they have no reason, nor no mind. don't head their treacherous warnings, You have God, so you will never fail. Let the demons attack you, let the battle rage on, I have nothing to fear for I have God on my side, I don't need your fancy weapons, I have hope to sheild me, to be my sword, spit your bullets and throw your granads, you'll always miss cuz I have God on my side to battle the hate, to banish the pain, to give me victory over those who hurt me. this is my veitnam. and I'm at war.

The Dancing Queen

I am quite fun to know. Ask any of my friends and they will tell you that I am a fun, peace loving, artistic nonconformist. They may tell you more about me, but let me do the honors this time. 

First of all, I was born in Russia. I have a lot of bad memories of when I was a toddler. I was orphaned at age 3 due to my drunken sperm donor shooting my birth mother in the head. I was adopted at age 4 to the best family anyone could have or wish to have. (I just happen to be the lucky one. =D ) Because of the violence I witnessed and was subjected to, I have Severe PTSD, depression, and anxiety disorder and three different kinds of seizures. But I have conquered where most people would stumble and fall. I was the one who kept getting up and fighting back. I am considered a huge success story among the Cleveland Clinic doctors, and am greatly encouraged to write a book about my life experiences to help inspire others. This is due to the fact that I can function at a very high level, while most ppl who have suffered similar trauma would not be able to function so highly. I am very proud of my success in dealing with my disabilities. It's been a hard journey, with a lot of road blocks. but I am walking with my head held high. for I am more than just my disabilities, I am Laura Regina Therese Pisarek. I do not let my disabilities hold me down. They are my cross that I must carry for we each have a cross to carry...like Christ himself. It makes us more compassionate if we allow God to enter our lives. For i am like a sparrow and let God take care of all my needs. I love God, I love Christ, I do not like your christians, for they are most unlike Christ. Ghandi once said this, and due to experience, I quite Agree with Him, so i am Wiccan, because I find Christ and God through the gifts of nature.

I have always been an artist.... ever since I could move my hand. While other kids on the playground were playing ball, I was drawing the school and the idiots around me. I am still like that, I often forget to eat because I am so absorbed into my artwork. I love drawing people, portraits and the strange, images that my mind has created for me and beg to be put on paper. My art is very expressive and sometimes gruesome. I love my art. It is a part of me I care for. It's is like a child to me, and I it's mother. art is my dream, my life, my soul.

I love animals, I adore each fluffy creature that I see. i have two quirky cats, a lovable sheltie who will never grow up, and a miniature rabbit. I really want to adopt a baby squirrel or chipmunk. if i could, I would have all the stray and unwanted pets brought to my house so they can be loved and spoiled rotten. 

I am also psychic. I can see angels and spirits. I can feel someone's emotional energy a mile away. I can walk in a room, not look up and instantly know who is feeling what. I can describe someone with accuracy that I have never met. This often actually makes me shy in a new class. I can tell that a lot of people in this writing class are kind of feeling awkward towards me. so currently I feel slightly out of place with everyone's energy around me. Which I hope to change with my winning personality. =D

 I love dancing and standing out from society's definition of normal. Because well - behaved women rarely make history. It's those who dare to challenge the definition of normal that change the world in some kind of form. I love being who i am. I love being the bold one.

 I love  reading more than I like watching t.v.  Reading allows me to escape to different time periods, and different worlds, to doomed romances that turn out ok in the end. To the scandals of a high society family in the mid 1800s. To the mystery of a new agatha christie novel. To going into the world of batman. to challenge the known and roam the unknown.

 I love 70s music, old cartoons that my mom used to watch as a kid. My mom is also my best friend. I can tell her anything. And I love that relationship I have with my mother. It's the best kind of relationship one should have with their parents.

I am the one who rocks the dance floor first, while others are uncomfortable to move out of their chairs. I speak my mind, and challenge what I feel is unfair. My favorite season is autumn because the bare branches look like black lace against the cloudy sky. IT excites me every time I see it. IT never gets old for me. I love it more each time I see it. I love walking through the leaves and hear their crisp crackling neath my feet, I love the colored leaves that God paint through the night, I love the cool evenings where I can snuggle under two blankets. And I love the scampering squirrels with acorns in their paws.

I love my life  because I am who I always wanted to be. Because I am laura.  

can anyone tell I love writing poetry?

2/26/06

Prancing the skies throughout

the weary man awakened by the

silent lullaby that mournful ears deafened by.

The souls of slumbering children wake

with enchantment gleaming in their eyes.

Ladies of white innocence gracefully

make their grand entrance

sweeping their gowns of white across

the silhouettes that clash against the sky,

Through each life of never ending toil,

takes a moment's rest to stare

across the sky that winter ladies of white blind

At night, when no eyes can bring bitter scorn,

in silk gowns I waltz along with the ladies in white

And with the sun's birth, I slip back inside

and it;'s my little secret I share only with the ladies of white

a prayer/hymn I wrote when I feel alone

3/1/06

In a world made of candied lies,

children's smiles last for only a short while.

In my world, there's only the pain

that I can't seperate myself from.

And the only friends that remain are

the shattered pieces of my mind that lie

forgotten and forsaken in the attic of my soul.

Don't you remember me?

Mother of strays come find me now,

hold me once again.

you sang a song to me once,

then once the day began you left me on my own.

At the damning of the years,

your smile never fades away from my memory,

I don't know who you are. 

And the darkness closes in gently,

and I am left with only what I began with.

Mother of strays look for me now.

Voices turning and turning inside,

Color my world a different color if you will,

but you can't color my soul gold.

IN a world of dying hope,

there will never be a second chance.

This is the end of all things sweet,

Because it never was and never will be,

I know you see me,

Now give me back my heart, 

so maybe then I can feel something more 

than your laughter in my mind.

Mother of Strays come hold me now,

craddle me with your mournful song,

I wander the streets 

that divide me in my lonesome mind,

and the world you see 

is different from the world I see,

I want to feel 

what I never thought could ever be real.

Mother of strays,

tourniquet of my bleeding soul,

come hold me now,

and wrap me in your dark embrace.

Mother of strays hold your children in your heart.

Gather your children into your arms, 

Widowed by pain, 

your children call upon your name.

Keep us close to your heart,

You will hold the outcasts in your heart,

Mother of strays,

my refuge, 

my home.

Come take me home 

Mother of Strays.

We are the children of darkness,

forgotten by happiness,

we live in sorrow,

We are the arms that no one wants,

we are the orphans of pain.

No one even knows our names,

no one ever loved us,

no one ever knew we were there,

hiding in the shadows of pain,

Mother of strays hold your children in your heart

A random poem.....beware...I love poems

4/30/06

She was just another face in the crowd,

She was just another girl with a frown.

He was just another boy in the hood,

He was trying to be ever so good.

Could it be different today?

Could the hate be swept away?

She whispered hi there,

She's hoping he'd care.

He turned around,

He saw her as she frowned.

Could today be a different day?

Is there another way?

She wanted to laugh today,

She wanted to be swept away.

He hoped to catch her tears,

He hoped to drown her fears.

Would it be a different day?

Could the tears be swept away?

She wanted to make him smile,

She wanted to be loved for a while.

He only knew hate,

He never trusted fate.

Could today be the day?

Could they live a different way?

She wanted to be in his arms,

She wanted to be away from harm.

He wanted to hold her tight,

He wanted to make this right.

Could today be a different day?

Could today we love anyway?

Together they have each other,

together they learn to love one another.

And today is a different day.

And Hate has lost it's way.

Today we learn to love anyway.