+One Labotomy please+

LABOTOMY ...
(educate before i whine XD)

Surgery performed between 1900 and 1950 to cure mental illness of all types. The "Ice Pick Method", perfected by a Dr. Freeman, involved hammering an ice-pick type tool into the tear ducts of the eye, going through bone, and inserting the tool several inches into the frontal lobe of the brain. This was repeated several times in each eyelid.

The results of the surgery ranged from death to better than before the surgery - there were no real successes. The frontal lobe controls emotions and ambitions, and many patients who received labotomies would be quiet and have very flat personalities.

The labotomy has been discredited, less than 20 surgeries each year are performed on the brain to battle mental illness, and most of those surgeries are on patients with Parkinsons disease, to control their convulsions.

The labotomy was performed on all types of physcologically disturbed people.

**********
Sleeping was such a beautiful thing to do ... 8 or more hours of random images and colours a sweet escape from everything in the "real world" ... id like to emphasise my use of the past tense "was". because even now in my sleep i cannot rest ... a hurricane of short replays of my worst days...or faling off impossibly high cliffs,being the sacrificial rat for a bloodthirsty thunder God,being turned into a horrid looking chocolate bunny ... or drinking galons of acid while inside a burning house and my skin ripping from too much fat .. all these tings do NOT make me happy.my week becomes: school -> horrid dreams-> wake up exhausted ->then back to school .... all of these things in my dreams mean something ... and trying to figure them all out while nOT being properly rested ... is taking its toll on me ... ive been trying to relate these things to whats happening in my life at the moment ...and none of which seem to make any sense ...

Even He is in my dreams .... i think its because of this overwhelming guilt im feeling, for ending it...
thee are times when if feel like my chest is so heavy that my backs going to break...i cannot tell you or anyone how im feeling, at the moment. I had drawings of them,but i gave them away ...even if i did try most of you would not understand ... bec. im going through someting most people dont even need to go through...still no apparent relation to my dreams...these things ... theyre driving me insane... someone plase give me a labotomy... DX


but i guess such situations are good, in a way ...
there is usually a reward at the end of a difficult task ...
no pain no pleasure ..~?~?~?

DAKILA!

GO SENIORS!!! LURV ALL AROUND!!!

Little boy box and self mutilation

I FINALLY got my tongue peirced. after all those years of waiting its so liberating!! haha ..but shhhhh... my parents dont know.. tee hee ...Its insane!! I like how it looks I like having something to play around with in my mouth. I like that i have another acessory to play with... i just love it!
when after its completely healed im gonna name it then marry it!! hahah ... i think bertha is a gewd name ahahah .. =P

AbOuT Th3 PoEm!!
I wrote this in my journal out of boredom and my weird crazy mind thoughts ... or maybe I was high on air then...or extremely Emo about God knows what haha... anyway these tiny little poems seem to sprout out of my head during reaaaally boring math lessons....This was supposed to come with small illustrations (which wouldve made the whole thing easier to understand) but my scanner is still broken *sigh*. and I'm still checking if the older scanner thats been collecting dust on our top shelf still works.
anyway . its weird but it plays out well in my head .... so bleh! =P

*Little boy box*

Little boy box all hollow inside , he needed a heart , so i did provide.
I gave him a smile, eyes made of glass,
and a part of my heart beting steady but fast.

Happy was he,for he could see,
the one who loved him ,
that one was me.
We danced and we kissed with his cardboard lips,
till i slowly felt my own heart tilt.

"could he love me on his own?" i asked myslef,
and went to see him on his wooden shelf.

inside him i saw my heart beating free.
I said "this cannot be
this tiny heart came from me"
"His love isnt genuine it cannot be true
if he had little of my heart would it not be loving me too?"

i weeped and sobbed, i could finally see,
that little boy box could never love me.
my tears filled the room ,till it flooded then i stopped.
and noticed little boy box all sogged up ...

There was nothing left, just my heart,
there was no life, there was no breath,
just my silence and his death