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vomit rainbow;â„¢

i'll be your cheapest novelty; and you can blow your brains out on me.3

About Me


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Amanda(UH MAN DUH) n . girl. five foot seven inches tall. Brown eyes.. [mostly] brown hair. Music addicted. Mostly lame, kind of funny. High school dropout.. Life non-achiever. downtown junkie. socially fucked. Annoyed easily. Pale. Rude. Loves her friends. Razor wire. Love reject. Absent minded. Signature failure. pill popper. weed obsessed. Alcohol consumer.
if you don't love me, you don't know me.
once you get to know me, you'll never forget me.
i'm Vegan as of today. 1/26/07. sorry i dont eat pets.
I'm bi, and i love it, dont like it? get fucked.
i'm the happiest girl undead and i owe it to my amazing friends, their what makes my life worth while.
i have more heart aches then headaches. sorry i dont beg for attention but i do stand out.
unlike the rest of you fake bitches. with those fake little laughs and those hooker stilletos. theres nothing more to me thats out of the ordinary.
would you like a cheesburger before you puke up your feelings?
i may look like an "emo faggot" But, i listen to music that would make your mother cry.
Im neither "scene" or "straight edge", but then again im not a soup can either.
im sick of getting fucked over by people who i thought were my friends.
and im sick of trusting the untrustworthy.
talk shit.
because im probably talking shit about you too.
you hoebags think you know me. but you dont know shit.
if you dont like me, take me off your motherfucking hard drive and stop wasting my time, because i probably didnt like you either.
i'm probably your latest phobia.
And your biggest desease.
Just because you can bat your pretty mascara coated eyelashes at me doesn't mean I wont return the favor and rip them out.
so shut the fuck up. :]
I want you to listen, just because I am so fucking tired of it, and understand that, while normally empathetic, I'm worn out:
NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR PROBLEMS.
You hear that? No one.
You can spill your fucking guts on the table, but I promise that not one single person out there will be laying awake thinking about it.
Your fucking pontificating isn't taking anyone any further towards where they want to be, you aren't moving any mountains, you're just standing in the sand.
You're just a kid and what you've gone through isn't changing anyone's perspective.
You're not opening eyes and you're not showing them the light.
Who you are doesn't matter.
What your politics are doesn't matter.
What your favorite band is doesn't matter.
Where you've been, who you've met, and how you've been fucked over don't mean anything.
Your clothes don't.
Your hair doesn't.
Your God doesn't, so stop fucking preaching-
We've heard it all about, and you've gotten it too.
There is only one thing that does.
And I swear- One day someone will figure it out.
Someone will read the words and know what they mean.
They've slipped it in the pages of Harry Potter- I see it permeating movie screens and stereo speakers.
When the blunt becomes blunter, maybe it will finally hit you.
The only thing that matters, the only judge of character that will ever matter is the decisions you make in facing adversity.
Simply put- Life is rough. What are you gonna do now?
We aren't the drugs we take, we're the fact that we take them, alright?
We aren't what we're doing, we're why we chose to do them.
We are the decisions we didn't make and they're a lot louder than you know.
Actions do speak louder than words and you aren't worth shit until you can practice what you preach and fucking step up to the plate.
Sharing who you are isn't doing anything until you do something with it, so save your fucking sob stories for the therapy you don't need.
You are your choices, and no one's saying it twice because they like hearing themselves speak.
End of.
I'm like your six year old sister on acid and listening to metal.
She wasn't born beautiful. She scratched, screamed and screwed out an existence from the back woods of Deliverance amidst the surfers and tan beach hookers of rural Holmes County in Florida. In a city where everyone looks the same, talks the same, and dresses the same, She never felt like she belonged there.
"There Are No Typical Murderers, Some Plan Their Crimes Meticulously, While Others Kill On Impulse..."

My Interests



trash (trash) n.

1. worthless, useless, or discarded; rubbish.
2. foolish or pointless ideas, talk, or writing; nonsense.

3. a worthless or disreputable person.

4. such persons collectively.
5. literary or artistic material of poor or inferior quality.
6. broken or torn bits, as twigs, splinters, rags, or the like.
7. something that is broken or lopped off from anything in preparing it for use.

I'd like to meet:



Music:

The Devil Wears Prada.♥
Aiden.♥
Chiodos.♥
Project Pat.
Three 6 Mafia.
MIMS.
Crime Mob.
Escape The Fate.
Haste The Day.
blessthefall.
Mayday Parade.
Drop dead, gorgeous.
Deftones.
I am ghost.
It Dies Today.
Sky Eats Airplane.
All That Remains.
Arsonists Get All The Girls.
Winds Of Plague.
Zombies Ate My Neighbors.
Burden Of A Day.
Unearth.
Nothingface.
Memphis May Fire.
Straight Line Stitch.
Parkway Drive.
wecamewithbrokenteeth.
Waking The Cadaver.
Neaera.
Throwdown.
A Plea for Purging.
Evergreen Terrace.
Between The Buried And Me.
August Burns Red.
A Perfect Murder.
The Chariot.
Rosaline.
Fear my Thoughts.
The Agony Scene.
Destroy The Runner.
Give Up The Ghost.
Misery Signals.
killwhitneydead.
The Kisscut.
Beneath The Sky.
These Green Eyes.
Heaven Shall Burn.
Black Tie Affair.
Dry Kill Logic.
Zao.
Dead Like Our Love.
War From A Harlots Mouth.
The Great Redneck Hope.
Gray Lines of Perfection.
Set it Straight.
Chasing Victory.
According To You.
Neurosis.
A Wilhelm Scream.
Ice Nine Kills.
Phoenix Mourning.
Deaf Havana.
With Broken Wings.
Write This Down.
Guns For Glory.
Autumn Silence.
Her Words Kill.
Before Their Eyes.
Hope Kills.
The Fire Restart.
Flood Of Red.
Van Atta High.
Sound of Surrender.
sparkstherescue.
Army of Forgotten Faces.
Lower Definition.
Corsets Are Cages.
Not For Now.
Foreign beggars.
Bionic Ghost Kids.
Planes Crash.
Another Rising.
She's Error! Error!
Tear Down December.
Before She Dies.
Her Latest Flame.
Your Name In Vain.
Archers New Rival.
Courtesy of Epiphany.
Colours Without Ink.
The Hot Lies.
Hopes Die Last.
Motionless In White.
A Smile From The Trenches.
Sunday Airline.
So Called Tragedy.
In Case You're Curious.
Between Home and Serenity.
The Soap Opera Coma.
gunslikegirls.
This Is The Hospital.
Open the Skies.
Bombshell.
My Favourite Pornstar.
The Subtle Way.
The Fragile Campaign.
Bleeding a Memory.
Liability of My Own.
Until Eternity.
Darling, You Should Be Ashamed.
Two Face Flower.
ForTheWhile.
Farewell to Twilight.
The Burning Season.
Of Hearts and Shadows.
Sullivan Avenue.
Distance In Embrace.
The Messenger.
Dog Fashion Disco.
Sorry For The Silence.
Dead City Sunday.
A Beautiful Tragedy.
The Mourning After.
Dead By Mistake.
Breaking The Girl.
Only A Hero.
PenknifeLovelife.
The Killer Apathy.
Say Nothing.
Ghost of a Martyr.
Cheap Imitation.
A Taste Of Tragedy.
Art of Change.
Roses Drop Like Bodies.
Dance Club Massacre.
Underneath The Gun.
Bleeding Through.
Burning The Masses.
Children of a Lesser God.
Victim Effect.
Lollipop Lust Kill.
Get Your Guns.
Make Me A Muskateer.
Acid Bath.
Short Bus Pile Up.
Salt the Wound.

Heroes:

under_the influence

1889â„¢ [0420]fuck

My Blog

Queen Adreena - Pretty Like Drugs.<3*

the world is watchingas i take my last breaththe world is watchingas i get undressedcos i'm pretty like drugsi'm pretty like drugscos i'm pretty like drugsi'm pretty like drugsthe world is watchingas ...
Posted by vomit rainbow;[pcp]" on Fri, 15 Dec 2006 03:33:00 PST

Filthy Lullaby

There are some things I wish I would've said. There are some things I wish I wouldn't have said. And now and again I think to myself, what if? Except that I dream about you and in my dreams you took m...
Posted by vomit rainbow;[pcp]" on Thu, 30 Nov 2006 01:37:00 PST

poem.<3

I'm sorry, I thought I knew you, I didn't mean to stare, Was that a smile of recognition, Just before that worried glare? No, you're right, you're not the person, The girl I knew was full of hope, Yo...
Posted by vomit rainbow;[pcp]" on Tue, 28 Nov 2006 04:40:00 PST

Winning isn't everything, baby.

You're more punk, hardcore, scene, straightedge, emo, indie than me.Your hair is cooler, your pants are tighter, you have more peircings. You have cooler pins on your messenger bag and your favorite b...
Posted by vomit rainbow;[pcp]" on Tue, 19 Sep 2006 02:01:00 PST