My Papercut Chronicles

me!

Hey :) Um....here's a LITTLE bit about me! Believe me, you must be really special if you're reading this. You must be amazing if you understand it. If you talk to me about it, you're just spiffy. My name is Gabrielle. I like that my name splits in two.

Gabby:
Hey, I'm Gabby! I'm really friendly and I love giving hugs! I go to Catholic school and I get pretty good grades. I have the best friends in the world, and I'm always open for more. I'm still trying to figure out exactly what makes sense in my life. I have two passions, one that carries more weight than the other. Basketball is one, I can't really bring myself to stop. That means something, right? And music. I wouldn't be here without it. I sing, and that's truely what I want to do. Maybe one day I'll do that. I'm working on it :) . I'm thankful to God for my life. It's been hard sometimes, but who's hasn't, right?


Brielle:
Hey, hoe. I'm Brielle. Don't fuck with my friends, and I won't fuck with you, okay? Umm..I play basketball because I love it, and it's good for my figure. I sing, because I have to. Music is what got me through the hardest of times: cutting, forcing myself to learn how to stop, and those lonely times when you know there's just no one that could understand.
I need Gabby. She nourishes me, and she lets me out when I need some air. She can write and sing whatever I need to be told. But she can't sing like I can, and you have to be extremely spiffy for me to let you here me sing. I have the sweetest ass in my class :) but I let Gabby take credit. I spoil that chick so much! I take the pain for her when the worst times come. In an ugly situation, I let her sleep, and I come out. I can be destructive, or I can be powerful. Gabby's sweet and I don't want her to get fucked up, so it's my turn to shine when she can't handle the pressure. When things get hard, but she can handle it, I'm the one that makes her suck it up.
She's the cute one. I'm the hot one. She's the photographer, I'm the model. She's the singer, I'm the lyrics and the voice within. I'll explain more later, but for now, that's all you need to know.

I love you, no matter who you are.
Gabrielle ♥♥




Shoot Down The Stars/ Shoot Me Down

So, how did the photo shoot go? Well, it was tons of fun. Tons of fun because of tons of worries and lots of effort. My photographer was awesome, and she was preggers. She took some really good shots of me, and she spoke to me a lot.

Looking at them, I feel like every picture I ever took of myself, either in my room or the bathroom mirror (because I loved the lighting), or on my infamous basement wall, lead up to it. It was kind of odd because I’ve taken so many and I know my angles so well, and she didn’t but she caught them sometimes and missed them sometimes. It almost makes me feel like I wish I could have taken more after seeing them because I know how to fix whatever I didn’t like.

I still like them a lot though. I’m proud of them. I’d like to know what my friends thought, but there’s so many things that goes with that statement.

Friends, and what they think.

Some friends you can’t ask because you don’t want to make them feel bad because you got to do something, and stuff like that. It’s stupid, but you have to be careful of other people’s feelings. Not being a show off and stuff, even if you don’t mean it.

Some friends you can’t ask because you just feel sort of self-conscious with them, even if they are your friends.

Some friends you can ask anything to

And some friends you really want to know what they think, because just like you, they work hard at something and wouldn’t mind because they might ask you for an opnion one day.

And some friends you feel the need to ask what they think because you’ve discussed that thing with them, you’ve told them your dreams, and your dreams are type similar.

Well, Courtney was one of those people, and he was one of the only people online who’s opinion I care about. So what did I do? I IMed him on my new screen name that he didn’t have. As soon as I did it, I regretted it and I didn’t send him the pics. I tried to play with him, but he wasn’t even going for it. it felt good/weird/odd to get an answer from him, but I still wish I could hear what he’d have to say. My pride won’t let me hit him up again, so I won’t do that. I can’t tell you how annoying it is, though.

I don’t know what to think about Akeem. Nothing’s happening with him, not talking to him, and I don’t want to waste my time. I could easily meet up with Victoria’s friend, but I’m trying to give Akeem a chance first. I just wish I knew if anything was happening with him so I could actually do something, let something happen.

I’m so many THINGS:

And she forgets that I’m a PERSON:

But how would she know any of that?

She wants me to stop talking to my friends on aim so much. MAYBE THEY ARE THE ONLY FUCKING THINGS KEEPING ME SANE! Maybe God gave me technology so that I could talk to the awesome friends that he gave me while I do my work. So that I don’t always feel like a THING!

She doesn’t understand me, and she’s so head-on about what she thinks that she won’t try and thinks that I’m just some whiney disagreeing teenage daughter.

Wow, I just figured out why Courtney ever meant so much to me.

I need to be understood. All this work, all this judgement, artistic freedom, he’s the  only other one that I know who could convince me that he understands. HE COULD UNDERSTAND!

BUT FUCK HIM. Because he didn’t give a shit. HE DIDN’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ME. He just understood me because he could. fuck him…fuck him….

no. fuck me. i’m fucking pathetic.

I’m probably just PMSing, but you know what? As shitty as I feel, this is the only time I make sense. This is the only time I could make sense of my feelings for Courtney, because why should I have feelings for someone that treats me like shit?

Because I need to be understood, and even though he was an asshole who never did anything for me, he understood.

You hear that, Courtney?

Dear Courtney,

Haven’t spoken to you in a while. And I’m SURE that you don’t care, but I just wanted to get this out. You treated me like shit, which is what makes me label you an ass. I also wanted to tell you that I will be successful without you. If you weren’t so much of a coward to block me on aim, you’d have been the first person to see the pictures that I worked so damn hard to take for my fucking portfolio. You’d have been the one who helped me mentally prepare to take them. You’d have been the one to calm me down. But you weren’t, even though I was coincedentally the one

WHO

TOOK

FUCKING

PICTURES OF YOU

AND EDITED THEM FOR YOU

FOR YOUR FUCKING PORTFOLIO-ISH THING.

So fuck you. You. hurt. me.

I hope we both make it. I hope you see me on your T.V. screen. I hope you hear my song. I hope you see me in a magazine. So that when the day finally comes, I can ask you for YOUR name. I can tell you I don’t remember you. I can tell you that I have to go, and walk away, and never turn back. I hope you really, really like that. And no matter how much I want to do that, I wouldn’t. I’d at LEAST turn back and wave, because in my head, I’d be saying, “What if he dies tomorrow?”, because that’s how I am. I’d give you a hug. And then I’d walk away because even though you understood, you were never man enough for me. You take your dick and stick it into some senior chick who looks JUST LIKE ME or Selena Gomez because I want you to be happy. I think I may just want to know that you are happy, and then I’ll get over you. I have no idea, really. But I know that I want to be happy, with or without you. It’s just hard to do that right now because there isn’t anyone who wants to take the place you left with the bullet your microphone left in my heart.

like,

Gabby

Haven’t I told you?

I’m a star?

See that Ice?

See the cars?

lolz

jk

I love you.

Gabrielle

October 12, 2009
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