(This entry is huge, be prepared. It is semi graphic, and contains many life memories that are haunting me. Read at your own risk)

I hate that when you want to talk to someone, there is no one to talk to.

It also sucks when:

You want attention and no one cares.

You are so bored that sleep looks appealing.

You have a raging sex drive, and just sit there pondering because you have no other options.

You feel like the biggest loser in the world because you are sitting here doing another update for lack of anything better to do.

I keep having a mental image of biting inner thighs. Don't ask me why, but the thought of grabbing teeth full of inner thigh flesh is all encompassing to me now. Well, that and using my egyptian dagger on 'em. *sigh*

Why is it when you crave violence you never get it, and when you want peace you are drowned in bullshit?

My mind is scattered today, really bad. My attention span is limited to about 2 seconds in some cases, and hours in others. My entries today probably don't make alot of sense.

I am tempted to open up my diary, and to post up "IF YOU LIVE NEAR EDMONTON, AND LOOK AT MY PIX WITHOUT GETTING SICK, CONTACT ME SO I CAN WHIP YOU, AND SEXUALLY TORTURE YOU."

Damn!

There is always a man that wants to be abused, but it's damn near impossible to find a woman who is willing to be tied down to a kitchen table to be abused by clothes pins, knives, and a few other lovely things that make you sting.
Well, one chick left me her number, but I dunno. I'm so fucking fussy! It is rare that someone gains my interest. It's usually intelligence that grabs me, then they will of course have some form of mental problem...ya, I have a history of psychotic ppl in my lovelife....and finally they will have some form of physical oddity. Everyone I went for had some imperfection that they couldn't deal with, that I thought made them amazing.
My first bf had a massive scar on his face, and an open wound on his cheek the day I met him. 2 days prior he had been shot in the face by a .22, the bullet was lodged in his cheekbone. He couldn't be bothered to go for the surgery to remove it. That was great for me...I was 16 at the time, and amazed. I still remember his entire name... Aurelio Joseph Falcone. He was my first love. He was 18, and treated me like I was gold. He loved me, I see that when I look back on things. But another guy wanted me, didn't like that Ray and I were together, and started fucking with Ray's head. In the end, I went back to suburban life, and he stayed on the drag. I saw him once a year later. Then he was gone. He just follows the wind a bit. He is all over the country. I suppose that he is one of my only regrets. I never fought for him. Ah well, shit happens right? I guess I wanted to run away. After he was beaten to a point of both eyes being swollen shut....well...they/we broke him that night. The day before he had his head shaved. He had the darkest, softest, most beautiful hair. It was a dream come true, then it was gone. After that he just wasn't the same. They shaved his head.
Geez, the amount of times my life was threatened in that place, and the amount of times I woke to a guy mounting me when I was fucked up on something, and barely conscious. I think that summer made me the person I am today. The cat killings, made up rituals, group beatings, mass violence. Fuck, I still can't get a grip on the night I chugged straight polar Ice and JD, then passed out with severe alcohol poisoning for 2 days. A big biker guy thought I was a squaw, and decided he was gonna have me. I was roused out of the black with someone tugging at me, then there was yelling, I was cold. Then I was covered up, and then it all went black again. He was undressing me to rape me. He was caught in the act. They kicked him out. He came back with a rifle to kill me after that. They managed to stop him from coming in the room. I could have died without knowing that night.

Those were the days though. We lived in that house in the seediest area of Edmonton for about 6 weeks....then the Condemnation notice went up on the doors. We were demanded by the board of health to vacate. Not that we listened or anything. But regardless, Ray booted me out 2 weeks later. The asshole won, he split us up. I went home, and was forced to switch highschools. They said my school made me run away, they ignored the fact that my mom was hitting me, and emotionaly/mentally abusing me. But even now she is perfect, and I am the fuck up. Ummm mom? Might I point out, I will never hit my son with a closed fist?
It was hell going home again. I was put in a guest room. My bedroom had been stripped, and my shit was boxed up in the basement. They redid my bedroom into a guest room. Ummm...did I mention that I was a runaway? Did I mention she didn't look for me? Did I mention they enjoyed redoing my bedroom? Hmmmm.....was I ever part of that family?
After a few weeks of being in the skids, I called my dad up. He cried. He said he was planning on calling in a missing persons on me the next day. I must have just known. He picked me up, took me to his place and stuffed me full of food, then handed me money, and drove me back. He told me that he wanted me to call him whenever I could. My mom never cared.

Of course, my dad was upset, but that was also a good moment in time. Before that, and after that..he disowned me. He always picked favorites between my brother and I. Hence the reason I refuse to have another kid. I don't want to play favorites with my children. Having just Satan makes things easier to handle.

I look back on those days, and saw my life change at that moment in time. About 4-6 months before I ran away, I started smoking. Then I started on doing drugs. Of course I was drinking every day since I was raped when I was 12, and woke up with a shot every morning, and full blown liquid lunches by 14....but the drugs started then. It made the pain ease off. Made life liveable. Then when I went home again, I had no access to pot, so I started pill popping. I used to do these molatov cocktails of muscle relaxants, gravol, T3's for the codeine, and anything else that looked like I could get a buzz off of it.....oh ya, that was my life in the highschool from hell.
I would go to my first class....Math. I'd sit down with a Coke, my strawberry poptarts, and a fistfull of pills. I'd eat my poptarts, then swallow the pills. it always took a while for the rush to kick in. So I'd drop them about 30 min before lunch, then when I was in the mall at lunch they would slowly start. By my next class I was hallucinating, and tripping out.

When I wasn't able to drop anything, I would sit in that afternoon class, and cut, or pierce myself with safety pins....just to turn the skanky preppy girls green. I remember I had a thing with smoking a few joints before class, then sucking on watermelon Jolly Ranchers. I would bite down on them, and suck really hard, thus gluing my jaw shut via my teeth. It kept me quiet atleast.

There was alot of pain back then. The last time I was raped I was 18. I walked from the deep southside of the city, to the far north, in -28C with a -35 windchill....in nothing but a small jacket, and shorts. By the time my friends opened the door...I went to their place....I had curled up on the front porch. Everything had gone warm, and I was tired. It's scary to look back at. I was about to die of hypothermia right then. But they pulled me in, wrapped me up, and sat me infront of the heating vent. I had run from the place it happened at, and left my friend behind.

The next days phone call:

Her "where the hell did you go? Thanks for just leaving me there"

Me "I was raped by the roommate chris"

Her "ya well, he tried it with me but the other guy stopped him. You could have atleast told me you were leaving"

I gave up after that. It was very aparent that the word "rape" meant nothing to her. I personally chose not to be touched again by the greasy spic. I chose to run when he went to take a piss. Right before that he had been sitting on my chest slapping my cheek with his dick. Ya, I'm gonna stick around. Ummm...how about not.

Hmmm, I've been typing for over an hour now. I guess I have some demons to get out tonight. This shit swirls in my head constantly, I can't escape it.

Ah well, I need to talk, but no one is around. This sucks. My diary it is then. *sigh*

Hmmm....

test: you know I like you Ivy
test: and I know you are gay-BFD
ivy_tepes: That's what they all say
test: but your cutting edge has such a sexual potency to it
test: it gets me hot
test: I cant explain it
test: I guess its a sm/bd thing

I guess it is test....too bad no one wants me.

ivy_tepes: Ya, well...before I was into bdsm, I was told I had an aura of sex around me
test: too bad youre way up in alberta
test: I would love to meet you
test: or would I?-lol
ivy_tepes: lol
ivy_tepes: I'm not that bad
test: you sure you dont wanna play with me on here
ivy_tepes: I'm very mellow and laid back most of the time
test: cool
test: I knew I liked you
test: listen
ivy_tepes: I don't like to cyber domme
test: you type whatever you want
test: I know its just a game
test: be vicious
test: I can take it
ivy_tepes: no
test: come on
test: awwwwwwww
ivy_tepes: no
test: ok

Keep trying dirty old man.

*sigh*

I'll end with that, as it documents what the world sees me as.

I'm done....for now.

IVY

Quiet-Bitch!

~WTF?~ - Saturday, Mar. 25, 2017
~Relaxation~ - Tuesday, Sept. 01, 2015
~The hunt is on.~ - Tuesday, Aug. 04, 2015
~Sometimes~ - Friday, Mar. 21, 2014
~Fawk~ - Tuesday, Jan. 07, 2014