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Name: Olivia M
ASL: 20/F/Indiana
Bio: [ Quick Bio ]
Website:[ Website ]
Days Away: 3773
Life Story:
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Signup Date: 5347 D
14.65 Years 1.46 Quote:
"Malicious sounds like delicious."

Recent Favorites:
No Shadow in April by KimmyMim
dead by tricklingrain
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Mood: Angry and Thoughtful
Sometimes, I really wonder if I had or have some small degree of OCD. I know we all have it to an extent. I used to pray excessively in elementary school. Sometimes, I would stop talking to people or stop listening because I'd be praying. Then, it developed into its own little chant, and I'd have to cross my self on the amen...I had to do the short part of the cross first on "a" and the long on "men." And, then press my skin where I'd crossed myself in order to send it up to heaven. >__< Then, I used to click at people with me teeth. I think I thought it was cool or something. I also never leave a place with checking to make sure I didn't leave something. Sometimes, I even go back to double check. I remember there was this one time I was in a speech round and I went to go check the clock for the time outside, returned to the room, and sat back down. Only to tell my judge that I would go check the clock again just in case I made a mistake. The time I reported wasn't odd or anything. I just felt the need to check it twice.

I would also like to write a letter to my "friend." We are not friends anymore.

Dear Man,

Calm down. And despite the many time you claim you are "calm," you are not. Words mean nothing; it's all in your face. I know I'm frustrating because I don't bend to your will, but you're too weak to convince me anyway. I wish people could the side I see of you, the side hiding behind that conservative exterior. You claim to be open minded, yet secretly spurn all of my ideas. If you had good ideas, maybe I would listen more. Instead, you steal ideas from copyrighted videos. Plagarism. Goosebumps. Weird Al. Get your own mind and imagination. Also, relax. Maybe that's why you infuriate me. You can't relax. I hate the way your face scrunches up when your "calm" but you're really frustrated. Sometimes, I know I'm frustrating, but today, I was serene. I spoke with calmness and questioning. Suggested ideas. Ask you to think on it. Told you to make an outline. You yelled at me because you didn't want to write an outline, and I told you an outline of the mind.

You were frustrated. I could see it the jerks of your neck. You would look at me and then look away as if the iron hot "calmness" inside you was slowly lighting all your nerves on fire.

I guess you weren't frustrated, right?

I walked away because I wanted to stay serene.

But when I came back, I broke and whispered, "Calm down."

That was all it took for you to burst.

But unless you're exploding, you're not on fire.

I don't remember what you said, but I remember that I couldn't stop shaking.

I couldn't understand why you were so angry and told me you weren't angry.

You were angry. Don't call me stupid. Even though you already think as much of me.

I think it's funny that you feel threatened by me. You know I'm smarter than you, so you take my simple words and turn them into knives.

I said, "I love impromtu. It defines me. If you want to understand me, understand impromtu."
You said, "I know what impromtu is! I'm good at it, okay?"

I wanted to show that we had common ground, but you took it as a threat.

I think it's because you have a small...

But when you said those words, the earth shook. They were nothing, but they proved something to me.

You are an ignorant person.

And, it isn't me. You had me believing that all of this was my fault. I thought I caused you to argue with me, but when I tried my best not to start a fight, you lit my words on fire.

"Calm down."

I can't remember what you said. I just remember that my voice grew smaller in comparison. And my hands. Wouldn't stop shaking.

I had to run away and find someone that would love me.

You never say I'm sorry.

You said...something about me...something about me making you do something...something about me having my way...something about forgetting your idea...something about accusing you...something...

I don't remember because the earth was shaking.

I didn't understand why you were yelling with your eyes.

I was afraid of you. Because I couldn't understand.

You start fights, Man, because you cannot compromise. You say you're open-minded but that is a lie. You can say your open-minded all you want, but to prove it, you make choices. Want to wear a wig and sing a Brittany Spears song? No. Because you don't have laugh lines.

I just don't understand what I did to you today. Other days, I know, but today was a new day.

And I wanted to sleep on the decision, but you thought I was threatening you.

Grow a pair of cojones and get over yourself, Man.

And stop yelling at girls who only want to make amends.

But don't yell do you?

Compromising is not giving in.

...Created 2008-11-24 23:11:51     [ View Past Journals ]

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 At Morning
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 Existence and a Tight Calf
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I really like the language in your poems. Don't ask me what they're about, I just had a flick through and am pretty thoughtless today. But I do admire their tightness. When I write I have so many thes and ands and buts, my punctuation and grammer are school stuff. The poems themselves are good but I've slobbered all over them, it is my way at the moment. But your poems are eloquent, I admire that.
| Posted on 2012-07-10 07:21:06 | by Wolfwatching - [ Reply to This ] -
You are so kind. I thoroughly appreciate your thoughtful comment on No Shadow in April, and the time you took to give length to what you had to say. This was a real-life situation for me. My daughter, now 21, had some severe teen problems with rage and some challenges mentally. This was one of the most heart-wrenching decisions I ever had to make. The mental health system in the USA is so clogged I cannot even begin to tell you what we went through to even get her this far. This was just such an emotional event in my life, that if I hadn't written it down, and editted it...and would have driven me into the ground. Thanks again for your insightful and perceptual comment. ~Kimmy~
| Posted on 2009-01-05 19:09:42 | by KimmyMim - [ Reply to This ] -
oh and to answer your question. rustleless is a word i made up so i guess its not a real word. but it fits. and the squeaking of diseased rats was talking about the sound of rats that may be diseased with rabies or other diseases that rats have.
| Posted on 2008-11-14 22:24:56 | by tricklingrain - [ Reply to This ] -
hey thanx for your very intriguing comment to my poem 'dead'. i like your thinking.
thanks again!:D
| Posted on 2008-11-14 22:22:17 | by tricklingrain - [ Reply to This ] -

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