| Me | Family | Tunes | Theme Song | Spazz Says | Old Diary | Colophon |
| LiveJournal |
| I'm in a small village in France, northwest of Nice. Just trying to understand why everyone loves you when you're dead. I'm looking for some of my friends who got lost while we were travelling Summer 1998. Last seen, by me, on the Austrian/German border. They may have gone anywhere, but I doubt they've gone back to the States. If you know Beth or Nour from the Edge City area, tell them about my page. Infrequent Diary April 18/2000 Some mourn for the dead, but I mourn for the undead. I've lost my license to live. Just as I've lost my right to die. Hanging in the balance, I stand at the world's edge. Sing for me, as I sing for us all. Tonight, I watched for the first time Interview with a Vampire, and the new Dracula. What right have they to do to me what has been done. As I cry for the lost souls of the living, I realize what I have become and why I am living, though I am dead. I have no words. I have no voice. But I can speak still. I would pray for you all if I knew how. I wish I knew how. I am here, but for the grace of someone's god go I. Pace. April 9/2000 It's my birthday!!! I'm not telling how old, but the info is around here somewhere. I've been staying off line a bit. A couple of my housemates are sick with some problems the caught living rough a bit too long. But my 'aunt' has got a medical warchest that could cure an army, and they're ok now. And for my birthday, I get to annouce that instead of searching about for my friends online, I decided to build a place that they may find me at. It is called, and I didn't name it though the title is growing on me, GothCore. Since I really hate IRC, ICQ, and all these chat places, I started hanging out at LagdaMOO. It is better because you can build stuff. If a dead girl has to construct her own super identity, why should she get stuck with some canned ICQ world where she controls nothing. Here I get to control the colours and spaces I build, the people I invite or don't invite. And you can too! You can build a space for hanging out and chatting without being a consumerist twit living on ICQ and getting posts from some lamedick in some backward hole sending you marriage proposals. Click on the link at the bottom of this screen, and come on over. It is not public yet, but since you're already at my page, and so few people drop by, go for it. March 24/2000 I guess I'm not really qualified to do a diary. Perhaps I need a new name. But I do have something to report. I got an I-drive account (www.idrive.com), and a friend put a really bad recording of my namesake song on it. But it don't work!@!! So anyway, it is on my account now. Wanna hear? Click. Thanks again to Spazz for help. Feb, 16/2000 I think I'm getting hungry again. Everyone is staying away from me, and that's a sign that I'm looking at them like they're a slice of takeout pizza. Panzarotto rather. Pale and flakey outside, warm and juicy inside. Nummm. Feb, 12/2000 I can't wait for Valentines day... blood and love... what more could I want? Well, I'll tell you. After searching for I don't know how long, I managed to get the lyrics to Sarah Smiles (thanks for the transcription Spazz). I still don't have the audio for it, but I'll get it yet. Here's the song my mom used to sing to me as a lullabye... Sarah Smiles Bram Tchaikovsky, 1979 Sarah smiles, takes my breath away. So good night my love good night. Sarah Smiles as I brush her cheek. So good night my love good night. So good night my love good night. |
