Giving In

I was always a normal little girl. I had dreams, an overactive imagination. I always wanted to be grown up. I wanted to be pretty and smart. I was a normal girl. Then, I just got tired. I got tired of other people's opinions. I got tired of a million unfullfilled dreams. I got tired of myself. Being so exhausted, I gave up. Liar, Liar, Lizzy <3

Identity

Secluded. I'm hiding. That's what I am. I use false names online and only reveal myself through my emotions. Even then, they only show themselves on paper, never on my face.

Can't Stop this Feeling

What is this strange addiction? The urge to form letters with a lead tipped instrument. The delight I feel at seeing the gray stains on my knuckles. The loops of words forming as more thoughts burble forth from the labyrinth that rests within my head. The scratched at words seem dark and foreboding. My joy and fear all wrapped into one action. Writing.

I Feel Pretty

I had always wanted to be beautiful. When I was quite young I always imagined myself so. My actions were rather embarrassing as I look back on them. I always admired beauty, and people who were beautiful either had my undying devotion or my undying jealosy. Now, even as people tell me so, I cannot bring myself to call my appearance beautiful. I suppose I have had such an enormous and interested view on beauty that I still find myself unchanged from that ackward little girl that clung to her beautiful dreams. Can it happen overnight? Beauty?

I Just Want to Dance

I start to give in and my mind surges with refusal.My dark thoughts will plant seeds in my soul but then... A feeling of strength uproots them. I will not give in. This feeling won't let me. It pushes me to strive. What is this feeling? It's magnitude is indescribable. It wells up from the deep recesses of my soul. It allows me to imagine myself in light. In a place for all eyes to see. It shows me glimpses of a life that could be mine. What is this feeling? Some call it dreaming... I call it passion.

Monster

My monster inside cannot be tamed. It boils. It flames. It consumes. It unleashes fury that destroys everything. Like a wild horse, It runs rampant, ploughing its hooves into the soft soil of my soul. It crushes bones and bodies beneath its feet without a second thought.

The Power of Flirtation

I like flirting. Knowing that I can arouse such feelings in the opposite sex is very satisfying. It gives one a sense of control. It makes you feel like you have some power over something in this crazy world. I certainly don't want to hurt anyone but, little moments of control boost my self esteem. Simply the knowledge of my gift raises my spirits. My little actions like smiling, laughing, or even tilting my head can dictate what others are feeling or thinking. Call me evil but... I'm beginning to like the idea that I could manipulate people this way. It makes me think that I might go somewhere someday. Liar, Liar, Lizzy <3

please wait. brain is processing.

OK....sooo, I have a lot more posts coming(just stuff that I wrote down in random notebooks and stuff(but kinda cool))but it's taking me awhile. First, because I'm lazy, and second, because my computer is slow to load them. I will try to get most of them out before september. *whisper* try to psychicly connect with me and yell at me to do that. I don't know...mindmeld hasn't always worked in my experiance but it's worth a shot (anything to get my butt moving) Liar, Liar, Lizzy <3

suicide

Many people dissapprove of me when I speak lighlty of suicide. I never think lightly of suicide, though. I hold a deep fascination for it. I ponder it in it's meanings and the many, many motives behind it. I suppose this is because I came in very close contact to it myself. I speak lightly of it in an almost reverent manner. My regard is for it's many levels of depth. Ever aware of it's dangers and it's consequences I remain in awe of this idea. I may speak lightly but, believe me, my heart and mind speak differently. I speak one thing but think another. I am, after all, Your Liar, Liar, Lizzy...

spontaneous choreography

It's funny... after an intensive week of dancing my mind seems to still be running in that mode. Every time I hear music playing, the tune or the lyrics will trigger images in my mind of contemporary choreography. Just a phrase or a few notes and I'll start feeling it expressed in movement. I can picture certain poses or movements and my mind says, "Hey...this would be good for that"

losing myself...

I used to be able to dance with all my being…. I could let myself go and laugh at myself. I loved it and all I wanted to do was dance. Nothing mattered. The only thing that was important was when I took the stage and began to dance. Whatever happened before, in the studio, didn’t matter. Whatever happened afterwards didn’t matter either. I was always in the moment. Glad and excited to be onstage and filled with an unexplainable joy for what I was doing. It felt like a light was shining right from my heart and filling the entire theater. It was fun and I didn’t care if I messed up. When I started to seriously consider my future I worked harder and concentrated so much that I hated every mistake I made. I started feeling like I wasn’t good enough which made me strive harder. The constant drive I had was because I knew that I loved dancing. My mind knew it but… my mind kept forgetting it. I wouldn’t even smile anymore when I danced. I wouldn’t let go and just let the dance take me. The one thing that killed my dancing was my love for it…