The name's Christine.
&&.
If you are a pretentious idiot that uses immaturity to solve things, kindly fuck off. I don't need your surreality or your drama.
Anyone who thinks they're better than me, will often face their doom with an abundance of harsh realities in the form of insults.

I find amusement in performing the wallflower role. A silent but deadly approach, I like to think I've mastered with a single raised eyebrow.
I'm sorry: I don't like you. And I'm GLAD I'm nothing like you My own entourage, I take care of myself.

If you want to get to know me, ask everybody that's never SPOKEN to me. I ALWAYS pay attention. I'm truly listening and loving every second of conversation when I'm staring at my nails wondering what went wrong.
If you want to say I'm beautiful don't be upset when I smile politely. It's only because I want to die inside, it'll pass so we can get RIGHT BACK onto the topic of which celebrity made a faux-pas yesterday.

Where was I? Sorry...I've forgotten your name already. But it doesn't matter anyway; you're all the same.

Because unlike every other bitch on this website, I prefer being under the floor with the worms while you all crash around in the ten inch stilletos you don't need, tripping all over one another's bullshit that drags as far behind you as your fake faces. I like being solitary and refined. I like people passing over me because I'm unknown. Unlike all the angstmonger kiddie-hoppers on myspace, I mean it when i say I DO NOT LIKE PEOPLE and that I am ONLY HERE TO SCREAM MY OPINIONS and I could really GIVE A SHIT LESS IF IT MATTERS TO YOU.

THEY care because they need the hits, the friends, the name that rides currents. They need to be part of the radiowaves that bring anyone else to attention. They need people to turn their heads when they say the same thing everyone else does in the same voice with the same face and in the same $60 pants that were worn in by the same asian kids getting paid the same bum change in the same factory living the same miserable fucking life.

You didn't buy those clothes at a fucking thrift shop. Your idea of vintage is a boy scout shirt complete with badges you never earned nor even understand the symbols of on fucking sale for $99.50, cause the halfbuck is so much less when you don't care where your mommy and daddy's credit card is used. Parading in Prada when you're so fucking punk and XXXtothefuckingCORE that you'll damn the system and bitch when your sister's pants rip at the seam because YOUR ASS DOES NOT FIT, UGLYBOY.

So leave me the fuck alone, dear Vanities. I'm ANTIBEAUTIFUL and I will remain and retain as such no matter the company that tries to keep me. I'm not losing my eyesopticals to your sick fucking twist, and your lies are as blatant as every vanityfix i throw on every "self proclaimed" cunt out there.

I WILL march my own one fucking subhuman army and I WILL carry it on alone and I WILL sneer at your fucking help if you're a god damn mindless git and I WILL never expect any of you fucking cheshires to understand boo out of my god damn motherfucking mouth because be it idiotcitymantra or puregodenlightenment, I am the one and only Poe and all else is smoketone opaque to my crystal.

I am what you need, aka the impossible dose.

They choose you because you're easy to come by and a quick high. They choose you in larger masses because you're safer and relenting and can be taken in larger doses. They choose you because you're easy on the mind and none too thick in solution. They choose you because you're closer to home and not much different than all the rest of them. They choose you because you're cheap.

For all those reason, they [don't] choose me. For all those reasons, they hear my god damn name and they turn tail. Talk in whispers. Mention it in cupped hands and warn one another "No seriously, don't fuck with that".

They [don't] choose me because I am without restraint and I break sound barriers. They [don't] choose me because I’m easy to find but hard to obtain. They [don't] choose me because I’m more than a minor addiction and have a tenyearshelflife of an aftertaste. They [don't] choose me because I’m incurable once inflicted. They [don't] choose me because I’m impossible to turn your back on, They [don't] choose me because everything else is a five cent high afterwards. Filler. Echo. Copy. Lifted. Diluted.

A waste.

They [don't] choose me because even when you've got me under thumb I’m willing to bring the hammer down on your hand and my head just to get free. They [don't] choose me because rumor has it I’ve driven men mad, and rumor is everything. They [don't] choose me because my circles of speech are logical in how they skip and jump, they [don't] choose me because like a bad trip I’m pathless even when you saw it coming. They [don't] choose me because they're afraid, and when they do they're never the same.

They [don't] choose me, and when they do they don't talk about it. Can't talk about it. They [don't] choose me, but when they do it's the nervosa of shakes that whisper out their mouths on the subject. They [don't] choose me, but when they do they know how special and few they are.

So let them come and let them choose you, because
they can't handle me.

This is me. The mask you encounter is not this, but the similar boy on the streets that will be completely unabrasive to appease you.

No.

I'm not going to bloom like a fucking flower for you and drop all.

No.

I don't expect you to understand a word or see me as anything typical.

No.

I'm not naive enough to think the words "Hippie" or "attention whore" are below your state of mind for me.

No.

I don't expect you to leave me the fuck alone, to erase the word enigma from your minds and think me unimportant. I can hope, but we all hope for silly things, don't we?

Never seen in the media.

If they made me the front page, no words would satisfy. Interviews would halt with no questions clear enough, recorders would find faulty and haywire. Televisions across the world would explode and whitesnow the moment I came on air, sattelites plummet to Earth rendering mass murderhomocides that left me lifting no fingers. Telephones? Down. Radio? Down. Internet?

downdowndowndowndown.

Take your twocent whores in drag and make all the pages and papers, cover to cover of every magazine. Their ability is your inability to be infathomable. There are laws against me, the media's unspoken taboo. You'll never see me in media.

I'm too good for that.

I have detachment issues. I can't pay attention for long. I have little interest in actual people, but prefer to view them as projects. Games. Seeing what causes this reaction and that responce. This goes for objects, situations, and moments as well. Poke it with a stick, see if it twitches.

I don't think much nor well of myself, but that's simply because I think little of anyone. The rarest of few that I enjoy the precense of I have a tendancy to come off as worshipping, and will put them on pedastals for long periods of time. Because to me they are[yes], farfar better than you.

I don't go to parties to make friends or clubs to socialize. I go to dance and to veiw. I attract others however, and often will run my mouth without realizing nor remembering it, and from there it seems word spreads that I am social. We'll be honest here:

I am not. I don't find conversing due to my need to spill verbally nor mentally nor textually as social. I'll talk a person's ear off if I feel the need, but that doesn't mean I can very well stand you. Because in all likelyhood, I can't. Socially I take up and need far too much space, and even from ten feet away you are breathing down my neck.

I am a bad, bad person. I'm red alert and high risk. Your life can't be anywhere near that boring. There must be something safer you can do. If you want to alter your perception then just shoot or sniff, you'll be doing far less damage than conversing with me. Spending time with me. Because I seem to have an addictive personality and I'm surrounded by grindstone snobs that don't seem to notice nor care the effect I have on them.

This is your chance to avoid me. The jibbermouth in the corner with the dunce cap. To avoid this complete lack of bravado filled with verbality slop that's spun enough times through you until you're awed despite how low class it is. So do yourself a favor. Stop reading this. Go the fuck away.

Run.

FOR SELFSURE ADAPTABILITY

If by the time you're done reading this you think I'm ego-centric and full of the mememe's, you clearly haven't read this very well. There's no brilliance here, no genius. Just another one screaming and kicking until the sun makes my retinas dissolve, because I'll fauxfight about much of anything.

The ego is a no-go and the "thinking better than anyone else" never called an RSVP to this noshow




I am a manipulator of people
and situations
I care for everyone to some extent
But if I see an opening to benefit myself or someone I love
I take it.
I hand out fake smiles as if they were candy
I care more about my looks than you would expect
I'm not as into my grades as I let you belive I am
I suck up to authority.
Because when i have them believing I am amazing
I can get away with anything
I am a theif
And a damn good one
I am a slanderor
a hypocrite
a liar
a fake
If you think you know me the probability of that being true is slim
I hand out fake love easily
And holding on to real love is the hardest thing I've ever done
I am vain.
I seek attention out
I fish for compliments
I speak very little french.
I run from things that make me uncomfortable.
And I create uncomfortable situations for everyone else just for fun
I am shallow
I am shy because I made myself that way
I am loud because I can't help it.
I am intimidating because I don't want people to be attached to me
I quote unknown intelligent people to make people believe that I am intelligent myself. mostly I'm just me.



*Im a fan of words. I enjoy putting them together and taking them apart (not the words themselves.. more like forming sentences, and novels.. and soliloquies). Im also a fan of literacy. In which case, please refrain from using u and ur when engaging in an exchange of words (hate mail included). Im very aware some people like to think using shorthand saves time. Well, if you can't spell out a full word you happen to use everyday, dont bother sending a message. It will save your time, and mine. This includes, but is not solely subject to, the proper use of your, you're, there, their, and they're. Reading and writing is taught in school for a reason, enjoy it while you can. I dont expect you to be a mastermind, just THINK before you SPEAK.

Current Favorite:The Abhorsen Trilogy