Elven names:Nienna Elensar, and Rumean Kordethess, meaning "Meadow rider Black eternal elf"
Hobbit name:Dimple Hamwich of Buckleberry Fern

*cries and cries and cries*

prostitutes have the right of it: harden yourself so that no one can hurt you. i don't care what other people say, even prostitutes have feelings: they're just smart and hide em way deep where no one can find em. a heart too, also hidden deeply away where no one can tear it apart. wish it was that easy for me.

"If this isn't love, then love can fuck itself and leave me alone: I want us to always be like this."

quotey by moi, to no one

i am feeling depressed but that's ok.
I am feeling suicidal but that's ok.
I am feeling sad but that's ok.
I am feeling hurt but that's ok.
I am feeling cold but that's ok.
I am not feeling at all but that's ok.
I am dead but that's ok.

i am a moron, who doesn't know how to talk. i'm am an idiot, who doesn't possess the brains she was born with. I am just a plain out bumbler, who couldn't be coy and cute if she wanted to be. lemme tell you this: that's me.

Dearest Diary,

I don't usually say that but who cares? i have found that humans bury their sorrow in happiness. Fake happiness of course. That is one reason there are so many bastard-children in the world: some girl got hurt and decided to look for "love". But there is no such thing. So "I shall bury myself in myself and the Devil may pipe to his own" (some poet in some poem)

-J (aka: loser)

You said you were different,
That you wouldn't just leave me.
But hell, you deceived me.
I'm just so gullible, so easy to fool.
And for me, to love is a rule.
I told you how i felt
Then you uncosciously delt
A hard blow to my reality
And to my analogy
Of you:
You left after a while
I stayed up in denial
That you could hurt me so strong.
But you could, and i was wrong.

all males are the same, at least all the ones i have met. doesn't matter what they say, i have never met a guy who really cares about anything. well i take that back, i have never met a guy who really cares about me. which i suppose is selfish to want. no offense to all my guy friends out there.

this my love is a death letter to you, knowing me I’ll see this thing through. But you first must know how much I love you. Ne’er a day there was where I didn’t love thee. You were always written on my heart, even though we were far apart. I drew you in my words of art, most things I wrote were meant for your heart only to see and understand. But mayhap there are others who will see and understand, for this is only written in my unfair mortal hand. I love thee well, and always will, even if my heart, with thy words thou dost kill. It matters not, for thee I will give my life right here and now

this is what happens when i scream. you die then i leave. i hate for it to be this way, but this is how it has to be. we couldn't be together in life, so maybe in the afterworld, we can be together. Then again maybe not, maybe our souls in this world will rot, never either of us ever seeing, loving or believing that the other is there.

My life is a rug with the threads slowly unraveling. I try to hold the ends, but there are too many for me to grab, too many. So gradually, they slip out of my hands, until I am left with a single strand. I hold the strand up, carefully, between my fingers. “So you are all that’s left of a once grand tapestry? All that’s left of my life? I think you would be lonely if you had to stay here all alone, so I’m letting you go. Follow the rest and let me be.” I let the tiny thread go, watched the last piece of my life float away. And finally, I was happy. Because I was gone.

i'm annoying. cody acts like it, sasha acts like it, caleb acts like it and i don't see bephy anymore. cody has started acting all fake around me and caleb doesn't even talk to me anymore. every time i call cody, he can't talk. it's my fault too. i acted like the whore i am, and i didn't keep my promise to him. now that i've told sasha, things are getting weird. and i have no one to blame but me. so what? i'm better off a loner anyway.

Valentine's Day
Is a day
For lovers,
For fathers and mothers,
And significant others.
But also, when all that goes away,
For those who will stay
All alone for another day.
A paradox, some might say,
But may i put in that i disagree:
Are not lovers and loners alike in some way?
They will both sit for long hours,
Pondering life and all of the powers
Of love.
Both consider themselves to be
Each in their own way, of course, free:
One from ever being lonely;
One with the freedom that loneliness brings.
Which one is happier?
We'll probably never know.
For one must be both to equally show.
And a loner can't be a lover,
Just as a lover can't be a loner.
Anyone who says they can
Is certainly a poser.
For how can you love,
Yet want to be alone?
How can you want solitude,
And want to be with someone?
The love of a lover is his love.
The love of a loner is his solitude.

             Paradox?
               J. K. Maxwell

Up she looks, into the face
Of her betraying lover.
She may have hopes, she may have prayers,
But now he holds them high above her.
He crushes them, dropping them to the ground,
Scattering them to the four winds, ne'er to be found.
He turns around; walks away:
She knows he broke her heart today.
When she gets home, the razor flies,
Mingling red with the water she cries.
Blood, it falls 'till there is no more,
Exceot for the deep red puddle on the floor.
Tears; they stopped flowing, quickly dried,
While the blue-eyed broken one died.

      Blood and Tears of the Broken
            J. K. Maxwell

"she looks up into his face, the one that said he'd never hurt her. well, now he's leaving, leaving, leaving; leaving her far behind.she cries, then once all's private, takes the razor, slits her wrists, then watches as blood mingles with salty water, Blood and Tears of the Forgotten"

I AM NEVER RANDOM! IT JUST SEEMS THAT WAY BECAUSE YOU CAN'T READ MY MIND.

start to cry, i start to die, when that tear pooled in your eye

Wherefore art thou, oh my love?
No one knows.
Except to say thou r'nt at home.
I gasp then run;
'Tis as i feared;
Thou hadst spoken of thy death as it neared.
I run; i stumble, i trip and fall,
But knowing i must get to thee above all
Driveth me onward, maketh me take
Desperate measures to follow in thy wake.
I know where to find thee,
Thou explained it quite clear,
How to get from here to there.
And so i ran, with heart beating,
Legs flying, i ran to the place i knew thou i would'st find.
And find thee i did: thy silent deed was done:
Thou layest quite cold in a puddle of blood.
I threw myself down, pulled thee into mine arms,
Crying and sobbing and kissing thee hard.
But nothing happened, twas all for naught,
Thy beautiful soul, Death's minions had caught.
I looked down at mine body, covered with thy own life,
Inspired by thought, i searched for the knife
That had stabbed my love's heart.
I clutched it, then whispered, "I come where thou art."
So saying, i plunged the knife deep.
A moment of pain, then i fell in a heap.
The last moments of my life, my end of the race,
But it was soon over and i was greeted by thy face.