[[ [ Hello<3stoppah. ] ]]

To burp out loud is to belch sort of unexpectedly, as if to slip sort of spontaneously, and--despite the custom "oops" that follows--with a bit of necessity. It's a self-satisfying gesture, at times executed with a complex mix of bewilderment, rage, affection, or fulfillment. In spite of one's earnest efforts, some ring more obnoxiously than others--with no intention of offense. In such instances, it is expected that those guests sitting wide eyed across from the bum act with the similar, and understand burping as a natural process to fun understanding. Feel free to set fire to any falsely assumed restrictions. Burp as if you were born free; set your feet upon the dinner table and let loose a button or two.

--Shi Bum Bumm

(formerly: xX9.tailed:NekoXx)

Enter Sandman

is what I'm listening to.

Eeexxiiit liight
Eenterr niight.


lol. Hey y'all.


There is nothing more painful than that which strikes one emotionally.
When one is hurt--punched, shoved, or struck--it is pride, faith, and the heart that still bleeds years after.
To hold back tears is to bite at one's own flesh, and to twist and dig into the skin; it is to fight the hot torrent that pushes through both eyes. They invade the skin, a cruel show of what is whirling inside because of the harsh blow just a second before.
Then you want to tell me what has become apparent at least almost ten years ago: that I may be expressive once you are listening. I shouldn’t speak when you are “reacting.” You acknowledge that maybe your reaction is too much, that it should have been less. Oh, but understand that I can always “say what you feel as long as it makes sense to me.” Are you sure that I haven’t been both keenly aware and closed shut by this notion? It has left me paralyzed since the days of my childhood, that very truth that strangles and chokes me, that which was burned into my essence as rule.
I thank my faith for the life that persists today. Because I’m really not that strong; I am desperate and down. I need a voice and a home; I cannot stand it when my throat swells shut and the contempt in the house. I would rather you fulfill every threat to throw me through a window, to punch me, to kill me, for I would not feel its effects soon after--if only you would commit. So please, “murrrr…—strangle” me so I may not hear another word of it again.


Procrastinating because I'm afraid of not finishing.


closest friends and I.

My greatest vision is of us crowding a round table, toasting to the triumph of our past terrors and newfound freedom.


I have vomit of the mouth. Because I grab at the opportunity to trust people--for the moment. Now, granted this time I "opened up to" my mom [O.o like, why's that a bad thing?], but I feel exposed. So... I'm still working on not feeling like garbage when something honest comes out of my mout.
Sincerity is key. But it hurts.

It's very odd. I'm pretty good at acting rational and understanding it. I promote rationality. But I'm personally the very opposite. Beh. Constantly fighting with irrational thoughts. Contradicting myself aaaall the time.

Cya Otaku