Question of the Day.

Here's today's question from my jar of thought:
What is your favorite TV program? Why? What is your least favorite TV program? Why?

This is so easy.
Tyra Show without a doubt is my favorite show in the entire world. Tyra is my personal inspiration, because she's promoting and proving what I've always believed. Everyone has their own kind of beautiful. There is no such thing as not being beautiful in your own way. She's giving, and she's successful. She reminds me of where I want to go, and who I want to be. I love you Tyra Banks. You are my personal role model, and I love you.

Bad Girls' Club makes me want to punch holes in my wall. It casts such a negative light on women in general. Believe it or not, not all girls go to clubs, get wasted, beat each other up with heels, have sex with strangers, and have bi-sexual tendencies. (I have nothing against bi-sexuals, however, I am against straight women that fool around to get attention, and set a bad name for the gay and bi-sexual community.) It worries me that it's becoming an image of the ideal woman. Easy. I refuse to ever become that way.

Question of the Day.

In young women's we got these question jars of things we should answer on a daily basis.

So here's today's question:
What qualities and talents will help you to be a good wife? A good mother?

Well, I am a very loving and affectionate person. When I fall in love, I typically stay in love, which is why breakups for me right now have been so painful. I think I would be an excellent wife because I'm very loving. And fun. But I'm real. When I'm sad, I let you know. When you're bothering me, I tell you that I need a breather. I also am an excellent cook. I possess cooking magic, and even when I burn something, or over blend a smoothie, it's still yummy, or at least I think so. I'm honest. Honesty is a big part of what would make up a marriage IMO. I'm very cuddly...nough said. But when I think about it, I think what would make me a good wife is that I fall in love completely. And I have a strong emotion quota. So it takes a lot for me to lose it. (:

As far as a mother goes. I'm very nurturing. If you know me well, I basically swoon over every baby I see. I'm very loving. I don't want any child to hurt. Ever. I have a very patient personality. It takes a lot to make me snap. But most of all, I would love my child for who they were. Whether they have a disability, a different sexual preference, a mental illness, or stubborn personality. I would love them and accept them for who they are.

Always There.

Sometimes, even when I feel like crap. He's there for me. He may live 500 miles away. And we may not always get along. But when push comes to shove, he's a pretty great person. Sometimes I remember what I love about him, and it makes me feel sad, but he's always there for me. And because he knows me better, than I sometimes know myself, he's a fabulous friend.

So Cooper.

Thank you for talking with me tonight.
I love you!!!

I hope everything works out for you and Danielle.

Smog Of Yesterday.

Our memories blend,
Some good,
Others bad,
But always love.

I never understood,
What it meant,
To fall,
And stay,
So in love.
Until I met you.

And now we're broken,
There's no more us,
Just the broken pieces,
Of whatever is left.

And yet,
Talking with you,
Is so easy,
Like smiling,
So natural,
Like breathing.

We're done.
We're over.
There's no more us.
But I still,
Will always love you.
I'm holding on,
To whatever is left,
The Smog of Yesterday.

Is It She? Is it Me?

I wonder,
Who he imagines,
When he talks to me.
Or thinks of me.

She's probably,
The girl,
Who listens,
To Dream Theater,
And Tool,
Avenge Sevenfold,
Mudvayne,
Songs that,
Aren't normal,
For a girl,
To like.

She's probably,
The girl,
With big,
Blue eyes,
Crazy Curly,
Brown hair,
Freckles that.
Dot her nose.


She's probably,
The girl,
That knows,
Who she is,
What she,
Truly believes,
Is never,
Afraid,
To show,
Her colors.

She's probably,
The girl,
That smiles,
With radiance,
In most,
Profile Picture,
And tries,
To make.
Others laugh,
When she's,
Not.

I'm the,
Girl who,
Is lost,
But he'll,
Never know,
Because I'll act,
Like I'm,
Totally fine.
Even when.
I know.
That I'm,
Dying inside.

I'm the,
Girl with,
Scars on,
My skin,
Slices of hate,
But he'll,
Never know.
Because I'll,
Send him,
A smiley.

I'm the,
Girl who,
Hides Behind,
A computer screen,
Being honest,
But hiding,
Who I,
Really am.

R.I.P Burt.

My friend died last night. Hopefully peacefully in his sleep. Wow. I can't even keep a fish alive for 24 hours. HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN????? It's not fair. I just want a friend. And they all either disappear or quite literally die.

Whatever. I don't need friends. They're overrated anyway.

Poem I wrote about my irritation towards scripture carriers.

I see them everywhere I go,
Like a constant reminder,
They carry them form class to class,
And never question what's inside.

Thin delicate pages,
Almost always silver or gold,
Securely set in a jacket of leather,
Name etched in the corner.

Those words that seem to mix and mesh,
Losing their true meaning,
Blending together without a thought,
Of how they've been twisted and changed.

Was the first one not enough?
Not "True" enough by standard?
But what standard are the speaking of.
Are they somehow higher?

They sit there and taunt me,
Remind me that I'm different,
What is this thing that I detest?
Why it's someone's scriptures.

Sorry it's been so long

I have a lot of updates. But I finally have a comp. I'll update you guys!!!

Love you!!!!!!