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Looks just like Voragine. XD

So, my comedy routine is pretty much a roundabout list of reasons why I'm going to die alone.

And uh. Effing pagent. I better win. My family doesn't have a lot of money. We're extending ourselves quite a bit financially. 50 for the ads, 95 for the dress, I need my hair and nails done. The first two alone? Yeah, that's my merry fucking Christmas. I don't like how any of this sounds. If I win, it'll be because I deserve two. Not the girls standing around talking about how this isn't a real pagent, and how they can't take it seriously. And the girls who stand around laughing at me for things I don't want to be laughed at for.

And I'm having so much fun sitting alone in the front row. No real plans for Halloween. Not gonna get a date to the dance. I've been on the verge of tears for two days straight. I have nothing to read. I'm going to run a drawing, feeling like this. My DS is dead and in the car, and I suddenly feel like I'm even more of a nerd because I'm upset that I can't play Pokemon. Like, in a bad way, for once. I happened to look at the Star Trek themed cup beside me when I typed that, and I don't know whether to cry or to laugh. I hope I don't die tomorrow. I will have accomplished nothing worthwhile. Yesterday, I cried because I realized I'm never going to slay a dragon, and I'm never going to own my own house.

And I'm going to spend the rest of my life bent over a clipboard, drawing and writing and pondering metaphysics every day with my face down, never seeing anything and missing all the good jokes while everyone else laughs and plays and grows. Together. While I just sit and stagnate and slowly die, because (woe is me!) nobody seems to understand or notice. It's fine to say I have a smidge of talent. But what the hell do I do with it? I don't have the patience for animation. I can't stick with a plot for stories and comics. I can't draw or write unless I have the inspiration to, which isn't something companies look for in hiring artists. I could draw all I like, but it can't get me anywhere. It's like I have these wings, but I can't fly on them. Useless, metal wings. Dead-fucking-weight.

It's the only thing that makes that depressing class fun, sitting with my back to everyone and listening to people talk and laugh about jokes I don't know about and will probably never get to hear. Because I'm Kortne' Slade, world-class genius, who is going to go to college and graduate certified for something she'll never use and then either die or go to a mental hospital.

I just absolutely, truly, fucking love life sometimes. I really do.

I'm an Uke.

<img src=\"http://www.semeuke.com/images/ilp.gif\" border=0>

You are an Innocent Uke!

Cute and sweet, and most gentle of all uke, whips and chains are not for you - you just want someone to love you. You are often spotted in candy shops wearing furry kitty ears, where you are sure to be noticed by the Romantic Seme, whose protective instincts will kick in and will only want to take you home and love and protect you. And you, of course, will be more than happy to spend the rest of your life baking cookies for your seme.

Most compatible with: Romantic Seme

Least compatible with: Sadistic Seme, Don't Fuck With Me Seme

What seme or uke are you? Take the experience at SemeUke.com, or find merchandise here.

Guess whose mom called her art crap? Same person who needs a little help picking up the shards of her self-esteem... Same kid who'll be permenantly checking into an insane asylum after graduating highschool.

e-e S'one of those 'Let the world know or you'll never feel better' days. Guys, trust me. I care about you, all of you. I'm just too awkward to know ho to cheer you up. I try in my own way if I can, but I'm really good at... Fucking up and making things worse.

And I can't say anything other than 'I'm fine', irl. And I do it behind a computer screen a lot too. The only reason I'm getting a therapist? Because my sister would barge in and catch me crying, and tell my mom. I'm going to say "I'm fine", because any more and I burst into tears. I don't even like being questioned on what I do in my free time. I draw and use the internet and look up how-to-overcome-your-somethings on wikihow to put myself at ease for a little bit. Unplug me, and I'm pathetic.

So yeah. I feel like I'm... Killing my social life. People are changing and getting closer and trying new things and going through things... And I'm not a part of it. You know how I am, attention starved dog. I feel all left out, when I'm not. It's not uncommon to feel totally alone in a room. It upsets me because I'm not alone, but when I sit there for an entire class period trying to figure out one goddamn sentence, it frustrates me. I like it when people talk to me, and I don't have to initiate the conversation. I heard Braxton feels like that, and likes it when people say "Hi" to him. I'm going to say hi to him every day from now on, 'cause he's my pal.

I'm gonna... Try and get out of my room a little more. Try. I'd like to go to AC and run around sometime, or invite a friend or to over to watch anime and sleep over. Because I don't feel too hot lately.

Am I gonna be sad like this for the rest of my life? Just being generally sad and angry and disappointed at... living. This is five years of depressive spells. Five years. Zoloft didn't do shit but make it harder when I crashed again. I'd like to have the normal teenage privileges of going to the mall with my friends, sleepovers, walking several yards away from my house to the store on the corner. I'd like to see a fucking beach, for the first time in my life. And run on it. With friends. I'm not even asking to go on trips to Africa or go to stay-in camps like kids who aren't me get to do. I'd like to make awkward silences extinct, and talk freely, as if I weren't going to burst into tears or be afraid whatever I said would bite me in the ass later. Because, Ha, my dA pops up whenever you Google my name. My parents probably keep my Journals on file and are waiting for me to do something really terrible to prove that I'm as horrible as they want to believe. Because I can work my ass off over a baby that isn't mine. I can be a straight-A student, well behaved, polite. And they'd still make me watch five children everyday all summer for no pay. And they expect me to do it happily. And they believe IGNORING a major depressive disorder, anxiety disorder, self esteem issues, and all the other bullshit that comes bundled up in a fucked up little human being will make it disappear. Just up and disappear like that! These people make me sick sometimes. They love me, they say they want to help me, to other people.

But then they're screaming "OBEY!" at me, like I'm a slave instead of a human being. Holding expectations too high and not noticing a goddamn thing. I can't even think of trying to confide in my family, not anymore. Not when they treat me like a chore, a taskbot. Not when they act like they don't need me, until they need me... Not when they act like I can't go away, I'm property.

I need a hug.