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__eyelined

a girl. an eternal - tho faded - nymphet sat down one day to write out her manifesto. an outline of a life full of trials and tribulations; adventure and hiding; love and brokeness. information to share with the world around her. family, friends, and aquaintences alike. expression spread over spanses of time and through chapters and volumes and various theories. with dog-eared pages of icons and on frail photography paper, she gave the world her life.
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[ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

[Sunday
040515 [@] 11∙57 a]

/// since i'm an attention whore:

I want everyone to post what they think of me.
And be flippin' honest, ok?
Have balls and show your name..
Be whetever and post annonymously.
|- i don't care -|
Now...
What the fuck do you think of me?


/// & also

read | ♥ 26 | cmnt

[Sunday
062605 [@] 4∙30 a]

_______b

7 underscore b
A new name for the one you love to call Bri.

New entry there.
__eyelined is over.

I needed the change.

It was my chance to run and I did.

PLEASE
Befriend me there. :)




(x-posted like a mother fucker)
read | ♥ 1 | cmnt

[Thursday
062305 [@] 4∙08 a]
I can't continue doing this. I feel so exposed and it's scaring me. I fear disappointing ppl. The ppl here. I don't want to be what isn't expected or wanted or liked. I want to be proud of only eatin 550 calories yesterday but I know ppl hate to hear it. I want to write about the same thing twice. Thrice. Millions of times. I want to lose this fear.

When did I lose my honesty?

I'm so angry with myself. I hate what I've become. I hate what I am.

I will never be a good little girl.

I will disappoint you. I will repeat myself. I will talk about calories and complete bullshit.




I really am sorry.
I'm sorry.
read | ♥ 3 | cmnt

[Wednesday
062205 [@] 4∙18 a]
***Warning: If you are adverse/offended by ED speak, conversations with one's own self, and/or complete rambling, STOP. This WILL piss you off. And while I'm at it, this is just some random bullshit that likes to make its way thru my head. Don't worry. It's all just the usual banter.Collapse )

I so much more honest sleep deprived.

One of those things that will make sense to some.Collapse )

The need for closeness with a man (and by closeness I don't mean sex) is growing. I'm so alone these days. I'm so terribly alone. I need to share this bubbling desire to love and share and be with someone. Is it wrong to want to love someone? To feel them next to you and know that you love them completely? To fall asleep next to someone? To touch them softly and know they are exactly what you need? I don't think I'll ever find him, the Man. God I crave for it.

I dreamed of being at my old middle school and going thru the lunch line trying to pick out low calorie foods and then when ppl left to look at something outside, eating this HUGE slice of pizza and trying to get it down so fast so no one would see me eting it I was chocking and I mean... choking so hard things nearly came back up. And I could see me myself as if I were outside of my body.

What is wrong with my head?

So damned empty.
</p>
cmnt

[Monday
062005 [@] 10∙51 p]
strawberries and me



I'm not sure how noticeable it is, but I died my hair yet again. I'm in love with how red it is, but will end up trying to get a few white-blonde streaks in it. (I'd kill for them to turn out pink. hehe)

Nothing new to report, really. Quit Waffle House and... it made me feel good.
Not hungry.

Boredom.

The same ol' stuff, I guess.



How is everyone?


read | ♥ 5 | cmnt

[Saturday
061805 [@] 1∙51 p]
I'm going to quit Waffle House.
I don't feel like giving 2 weeks notice (I have 2 more days to work this week, as well) but...
That shit's gonna kill me.

I'm so tired.
So sore.
And I have to work again @ McDonald's in just over an hr.



Shoot me.
Or at least give me the softest bed and ample time to sleep.
cmnt

[Friday
061705 [@] 3∙25 a]
I know I wrote such a short bit ago and I also realize it made no sense what so ever but the insane blending of caffein, a lortab 7.5, and reading Lolita @ 130 am has my mind running in equally insane circles.

I must write before the moment leaves me.

So I finsihed it. (Lolita, that is.) Granted it took me just over 7 months to complete, I'm quite saddened that it's over. I've seen the '97 version of the film adaptation somewhere between 30 & 40 times, but so much was left out. (Even more in the '62 version.) But, in literary awareness only, the book seems to just die after the intial intercourse takes place. (Nabokov was a sly devil if this was the exact purpose - to explain them dying from that moment by "killing" the book with such an anticlimactic climax.) But... oh I have to do it. I have to. I must be that stereotypical.

The book (even if it's course took 7 months to finish) evokes many emotions from my reverie. For that part of the population filled with nymphets (roaring or twilighting, alike) and their dog-eared books, they tend to dreamily put themselves in the shoes of Dolly and dream of their Monsieur Humberts. The book for them seems to justify their feelings and give it a certain validity: They are Lolita. There is going to be a corresponding Hum out there to fulfill their desires. I on the other hand, tho I can image myself as the young girl-child shiny and new with her coyness and sensuality, feel like.... I should be there to pick of those pieces. It gives me the urge to fix the broken. That it should be my place in the novel to help Ol' Hum in his time of need. I suppose it's my affinity for "broken" men. Those who are dark and living in some dark place inside their heads. Those who are melancholic, sad, and dwelling silently in the Ides. That's what the book turned into for me. It was a written piece of work that personified the damaged man I tend to fall head over feet for. (But I can't lie and say the beginning of the book was not a great description of many of my traits as well.)

I feel stupid talking about such things in depth but for my defense, I can say that such strong feelings for this book isn't because of my little girl mentality. When reading a certain  book that was a companion to The Diary of Anne Frank by her friend Hannah, I had the instictive urge to run outside and save Jews from their deaths. It literally took me a minute or two to realize that it was 199whatever and I wan't even in Amsterdam. The urge to save them was still there but a sense of helplessness came over me knowing that it was over 60 years after the fact.

There is my literary obsession post for the next decade. Revel in it.

I am at a crossroads with my weight, disorders, and all that I feel towards who I am physically. (This is going to be really honest and it scares me senseless.) I have to reiterate that my pictures lie (or at least I think they do). I can admit to liking my face to some pt but I do not like the rest of me. I am not a small girl and this coupled with a complete disgust with things fat puts me in a very confusing quandy.

 I am not the average disordered girl. In fact, I'm the complete opposite of average. The two worlds of eating and not eating war constantly. When I eat, I eat everything and in excess. I'll eat 3/4 of a pizza or tons of chicken nuggets or whatever. I gorge myself. And I know it isn't all physical hunger. It would be easy to say that I binged because of long stretches of severe restriction, but that isn't the case. I eat because it helps for a moment. Food, at the pt in time, is my drug. I'm the first person to eat a ton of shit when stress is added to my overly stressful life. It's a tool just as razors or alcohol can be a tool. The same thing can be said for my restriction. No matter how "good" the food makes me feel for that second, I'm always disgusted with myself. I get the same gratification from not eating for long period of time, losing insane amts of weight in a month, taking enough pink laxitives that I'm bedridden all day, or damn near overdosing on cigarettes and caffein pills. I've planned my laxitive abuse. I've fasted until my heart went haywire. I've intentionally bought food just so that I could purge. I've done everything on both sides of the spectrum when it comes to overeating and restriction.

What is the hardest thing about this isn't the co-existance of these poles and both of them fighting. It's knowing that I'm still "big". If I were of some average weight, I could quite possibly handle things better. I'm not tho. I'm the kind of girl that fluctuates in weight all of the time. Losing 5# is nothing at all. I can do that in 3 days easily. Gaining 5# scares me, but I do it and I don't see a change in anything. There is the magic word: change. I don't see or feel a change. I can lose 20# and I see aboslutely no change at all. Sadly, most don't seem to notice it either. I'll NEVER gain 20# so that comparison is shot, but still. When you don't see anything different, it's depressing.

My body does depress me. I just don't feel pretty. I did mention that I like my face, but I don't feel that it's pretty. My body isn't pretty. I am not pretty because I don't feel so. I need someone to tell me I'm pretty and I mean that in the most un-attention whore way possible. I can get a man to say that I'm sexy but it repulses me because I know he's saying it to get laid. My friends orfamily can say I'm pretty but that's almost like a negetive thing. "Bri, you're pretty." No I'm not. You say it because you have to. I want to feel pretty. It's irony of sorts that I say this because there have been numerous ppl (and one a modeling scout) who have told me that I should model. (And I don't mean modeling for those skinny ppl either.) It's all been said w/in the past 3 months as well. I feel they only say it because I'm tall and models are tall. Then again, models don't have to be beautiful. Anyone can plaster makeup on someone and make them a model.

I felt ashamed of my dyed hair the other day. I love it's shiny copper and bronze striations but I felt gulty that it wasn't natural.

I love being Bri when it means quirky and fun and wild and smart. I love Bri when it's a good thing, but for the most part it isn't. So many ppl seem to find fault with me. I want to fix myself because, yes, I do not like myself for the most part but I also want ppl to like me. (Or at least leave me alone.) It's petty and so many ppl will say that I shouldn't give a flying fuck what anyone thinks, but I don't work like that. I just want to be accepted so badly. I want to be liked and loved. I'm good when ppl have found me useful for something, but for the most part I'm useless - unless being a scapegoat and a white elephant count. I try so hard but I'm not good enough. It's logical, really. Everyone seems to leave or turn against me so this must be because I'm not ok. I really don't know how to convey the feelings for this area of my psyche w/o sounding very sad. There is no way to plainly put such emotions.

It's all been very long winded. I ask you to forgive me for that. The time was right, tho.
read | ♥ 4 | cmnt

[Thursday
061605 [@] 10∙49 p]
Numbers, numbers - round and round
Count your numbers - make no sound
Added, substracted - make it count
Exagerated - lost ones found

Oh you say - I'm a creep
Fucking special - ideas seap
Cigarettes - tigers keep
At bay lions - growling leap

What is good - dearest one
Tell me now - glowing sun
It makes no difference - libras shun
Symbolism - loaded gun

Fuck October - fuck you too
Fuck tomorrow - today's the screw
Trying harder - must be new
I feel it coming - this is what I do



I'm not sure if it means much at all tho I know it does.
1200

I  know I cannot be good.
I know I cannot be THAT.

FUCK.

I'm content with something.
I just need to find out what.
cmnt

[Thursday
061605 [@] 3∙57 a]
The house is clean.
I cleaned the fuck out of the bathroom.
If my mother says one more word about this place, I will kill.
Please write me if I go to jail.

I have water.

Ppl really get to me whether it be in a good or bad way. What I mean is... I'm way too passionate about my feelings about ppl. If I like you, I love you. If I don't like you, I want you dead. If you creep me out (even if just a bit), I WILL run away. If you make me think and by thinking I mean in the dark sort of way, I'm gone. I'm so passionate. I feel so much of things. It isn't just twinges for the most part. I feel them with everything I can.

That guy...
He can fuck off.

I need to find a school I can go away to in AL. Everything is 4 year and most good community or "junior" colleges are in my city. I fucking HATE Alabama.

I'm going to sleep alot when I do go to bed.

I have nothing of importance to write. Nothing that means much of anything at all. I ate 3/4 of a dippin strip pizza thing for dinner. Why? It felt "good". Fuck it. Fuck me. Fuck all.






it's gonna be good at some pt...
cmnt

[Wednesday
061505 [@] 2∙48 p]
I had to post this because it amused me greatly:

  1. 60.0 . 0....
  2. brilliantbrunette
  3. lola pics
  4. lola-sex
  5. lolita and nyphet
  6. lolita network pics
  7. lolita nymphet
  8. lolita pics
  9. love-lola.com
  10. nymphet
  11. nymphet lolita
  12. nymphet net
  13. nymphet pics
  14. nymphet pics lolita
  15. nymphet sex
  16. nyphet
  17. nyphet blog
  18. nyphet lolita
  19. nyphet lolita sex
  20. this site is on hiatus
  21. www.contessa.net
  22. www.lola.pics
  23. www.nymphet
Those are the keywords that ppl have used to reach all of my sites. It's... FUNNY. Really funny. There are some serious freaks out there.

I'd love to have seen the look of disappointment on their faces when they realized their search terms had NOTHING to do with my sites. (Well, save for "love-lola.com" and "brilliantbrunette" seeing as they reflect site names and "this site is on hiatus" as well because Dime's Law IS on hiatus.)

Freaks. Hehehe
read | ♥ 1 | cmnt

[Wednesday
061505 [@] 1∙03 a]
My lungs have decided to be a pair of penii and just sound horrid.
I'm caughing.
And it's all raspy down in there.
YAY.

I don't feel like being all flowery so you get the facts.

Life sucks.
I'm thinking of moving out.
My net's back.
I want another cig.
I got laid.
It was horrid.
My bro says he's 16.
I cringe at that.
He didn't wear a rubber.
I quit Mcdonald's.
I went back 15 minutes later.
Because they asked me to.
My hosting is still down.
I still love Janni.
I'm retaining water like a camel.
I literally get up, eat, shower, weigh, go to work, and come home and see that I've gained 7lbs.
I lose it by the morning.
My scale needs a new battery.
I'm tired as shit.
My mother is working my nerves.
My grandfather got a new car for $1.
That pisses me off.
My brother still won't help me clean the bathroom.
I ruined my Waffle House shirt.
Janni admitted that he thinks my family is selfish.
And that I shouldn't be made to deal with this shit.
I'm not horny anymore.
In fact, sex repulses me at the moment.
A guy I know online gave a "list" of what he thinks of me.
Pretty accurate.
But he dicked off and doesn't deserve recognition.
All of my email is down.
I'm not in the mood to do anything.
I'm still considered a fuck up.
Even more so now.
I have no money I can spend on anything.
Esp. starbucks.
Venti quad shot skim iced lattes.
With turbanado sugar.
I need to go back on a diet.
Here's to the Ides of June.


[edit] I'm beginning to wonder if this water retention/swelling up like a beached whale has anything to do with the epic purging I did.
[edit2] I feel guilty about holding a lighter to this huge fly on my computer screen. It seriously could have been something... like Jesus.
[edit3] I've decided that... this is it. Iam going to start a black coffee fast. Fuck food.
read | ♥ 5 | cmnt

[Monday
061305 [@] 2∙47 p]
RIGHT. I'm back semi-sorta.
Alot of nothing to tell.

A bit worried, a bit pissed.
Yohannes is MIA.
Hosting's DEAD.
My net was dead and still sorta is but it should be fixed tomorrow.

I don't know... hmmmm...
read | ♥ 1 | cmnt

[Tuesday
060705 [@] 6∙08 a]
[ mood | restless ]

woot for tagging!!! note: no more damn red bullCollapse )

It's Nearly 6 am and I've been trying to get myself to actually do some housework before I like... die. Or something. It's weird being by myself (tho I say that while my brother is asleep on my living room floor). See, I know that if this apt was MINE and not mine alone while my mother is "up", then this bitch would be spic & span but when I look at everything, I see a growing pile of junk that I just fell into. It makes me want to push it off on someone else but I know I have to clean. :( my brother should fucking be helping, man.

I'm so sexually charged/frustrated right now. Jesus Christ, man. Diane said call Chris. HA! NO! Like he'd drive out here anyway. And I'd seriously do my mgr (ironically enough, he's 18 and he's... younger. ICK NO) but only because he's a bitch and brags all the time and we joke about sex CONSTANTLY. Fuck... I'd just do it to do it, more or less. INEEDDICK. I need alot of it. I want lots of sex. Lots and lots of sex. More sex than I can handle. I'm so hot and deprived. I want to fuck. I want to make love. I WANT SEX. *grumbles and pouts* It's not fair everyone else gets some. I want some too. :(

I keep having these thoughts about a strong, possesive (not dominant, per se), older man filling me to capacity, all hands and skin. Laying half buried under my covers on my bed and the passion so thick it's uncuttable. Him chanting over and over, "Come for me, hon... Come for Daddy, baby girl..." And I lay whimpering underneath him until I'm given the most blissful orgasm. Or being pushed face "down" into a corner and made love to. Mostly different positions, the same chant, and soft, deliberate, working to get me off love making.

I want a man. :(



xxx, b

read | ♥ 4 | cmnt

[Monday
060605 [@] 1∙42 p]
I think it is time that I try to make myself happy. And while I know it's a fleeting thought that I will entertain oh so fleetingly, I guess there is nothing wrong in giving it yet another shot. But as I say this, I'm thinking about the house and how disgusting it looks; work @ 4 and how I'm not really up to it; the money I need to pay to the courts and Progressive by the 8th. More or less, I'm thinking of a good bit of stuff that doesn't make me happy in the slightest while saying how I need to try to make myself happy.

Oh, you lovely Irony!

It's funny. No one will respond to this entry until I make another one, but until then, the entry below this one will get a hit.
How completely mad.

I would like to wish Mark a wonderful birthday. Happy birthday, monsieur...

I want to quit Waffle House but I'm not going to be a wimp and just bail out.
That isn't me.
Instead, I'll work at it until I get it or die trying.

There is nothing to report except that this dark layout is depressing me. Seriously. I have an idea on a change, tho.

My scale says I'm back at a weight I haven't seen in 2 months. Nothing has really changed in terms of my eating (save for maybe eating a bit less and a bit more healthily) but... it says 10# I've gained... in just over a week.
You know what I say to that?
FUCK NO.
It's ok... I'll fix it. I really will.


Right... here's to fixing myself in someway!
Here's to maybe being good!
*cheers they say*






xxx, b
read | ♥ 1 | cmnt

[Sunday
060505 [@] 8∙03 a]
Nothing really deep today. Honest.

Went out with J the Friday.
Went to a club. (Banana Joe's)
It was ok. I'll go out again, but by the time we got there this time, everything was over.
4 psycho ugly guys holla'ed.
Made out with 1 of em.
2 of them wanted to go home with me.
Couldn't get a damn dance all night :( but I could sit down and have a guy want to fondle me.
Skills in itself.
Still got guys calling me.


I have to get a sharger so I can charge my unserviced cell phone and use it as an address book. LOL!!!


I wish I could get my family and Yohannes to realize that my father doesn't HAVE to do anything for me.
And I don't expect it.
He has his life.
I've not been a part of it.
How greedy of me to expect stuff from him.
But I don't expect hi to do anything and he doesn't have to.
he has his own life.


Mom's ok.
Bro's ok.
The house is a fucking wreck.
BAH.


I gotta go get ready for my first ever 12 hr work day for 2 jobs.
Wish me luck!
cmnt

[Friday
060305 [@] 1∙56 a]
Today will showcase a brief something.
How strange for me.

Head hurts.
Back hurts.
Neck hurts.
Leg hurts.
Fun times for exhaustion.

And I know I'm crazy but... knowing what ppl think of me gives me a sembelance of comfort. Just a small piece.

I know my story is unbelievable.
It's ok if you wonder.
I do too.

I love you guys. All of you - exp. those who give me some shred of settlement to my little mind. Those who show me just a little love. I thank you and I appreciate it. You mall mean something to me.

Thank you.
read | ♥ 1 | cmnt

[Thursday
060205 [@] 12∙41 a]
Fuckin taken from half an email... bite me fucking hard.

My moms in the hospital. Somehow, the car began to hyrdoplane and I managed to gain control of it but not before I semi-hit a pole and had it scrape all along the left side and fucked up her arm. Broken wrist, surgery to repair her right bicep. She's in til Friday.

My brother's on the 5th floor.
My mom's on the 6th.
Now if the morgue is on the 7th, I'll be the next to go in.

Head hurts. Seriously dead inside. Never driving again. I give up.

Waffle House is more anal than Chili's. They won't let me wear a men's shirt (tho it fits perfectly). Have to wear a women's shirt and those fuckers don't fit. I'm a fucking XL in shirts and I put on a 3x and that bitch was still too small. It's whatever. A job. A way to make some sort of cash.

The car's fucked. The passenger door won't even open.

You don't know horror until you find bits of fatty tissue and a huge pool of blood in the passenger side floor board.
Or trying to talk to your mom and you realize she's out. And you are screaming her name and she can't here you.

I fuck up everything I touch.
I give the fuck up.

No clue how to get to work other than my dad.
And he already told me he has to take care of his life first.
Which is understandable.

I'm alone for the first time in my entire 20 years.
Work in 6 1/2 hrs.
No sleep for me.

It's so cold.
My head hurts.

And I spent $10 my grandfather gave my mom for gas (irony loves me), bought Taco Bell, gorged, and fucking purged until I couldn't.
Epic.
Felt good.

Flipped out on my brother is front of my father.
Flipped out on my grandfather.

Head hurts so fucking bad.

Here's to the 7th floor.
read | ♥ 2 | cmnt

[Wednesday
060105 [@] 2∙58 a]
My little "21 Questions" thing revealed that everyone thinks I'm insane.
That feels almost validating.

I'm exhausted.
I guess my week long, "Stup up til 9 am, sleep til 2, go to work @ 5, and then mix in a few days of no sleep at all" has caught up with me.
I went to Waffle House today (my second job) and more or less passed @ a table for two hrs. Came home and slept from 330-1230.
And I'm still tired as shit.

I need to call McDonald's in the morning and see when I work.
*sigh*

Absolutely NOTHING is going on.
But I was told that someone came into WH on Friday and asked for me.
HOW THE FUCK DO PPL FIND ME?!?!
Call me stalked... or loved. You decide.

Yes, ppl. I know I'm an attention whore.
It's my unintentional need to feel wanted, I suppose.
I don't really mean to.

So...
tired...

I shall sleep a bit more.
Everyone else: If you didn't fill out the questionnaire, do it.
I like knowing where I stand with ppl.
cmnt

[Tuesday
053105 [@] 5∙38 a]
And there, lovelies, is a variation to a theme.

DAMN I'm getting the accoustic version of Jagged Little Pill.
OMG.
I remember getting that in like... 96.
It was so great.
I should DL that album...

My brother's better.
Hopefully he'll be out soon.
The problem is that my mom is going all melodramatic with, "Well, we'll hae to hide all of the medicine now."
NO YOU FUCKING IDIOT.
Quit being so hard on him and let him breathe for a second.

Yes, I do realize that I don't sound how you thought I would.
That's the fun of it, isn't it?

I need to go shower...
And take no-doz.
I've been up all night and have work @ 7 and well...
I'm dead.
LOL

Someone... anyone... tell me a story... :)
Because I'm that flipping bored.

001. I ____ Bri.
002. Bri is ____.
003. If I were alone in a room with Bri, I would _______.
003. I think Bri should _____.
004. Bri needs ______.
005. I want to ____________ Bri.
006. Someday Bri will ________.
007. Bri reminds me of _______.
008. Without Bri, I would _______.
009. Memories of Bri are _____.
010. Bri can be ______.
011. Worst thing about Bri is _______.
012. Best thing about Bri is _______.
013. I am ________ with Bri.
014. Bri thinks a lot about ________.
015. When I think of Bri, I think of _______.
016. I want Bri to ______ me.
017. If I could describe Bri in one word: ______.
018. Bri will never ______.
019. Bri can _____ my _____.
020. I hope Bri never _____.
021. I _____ Bri because ______.
read | ♥ 7 | cmnt

[Monday
053005 [@] 4∙11 a]


So yes... there you go.
Hmm...

Lots of stress.
A ton x47 amt of stress.
I'm ok tho.

Hehehe...
Last night was one of the BEST orgasms EVER. I just... it was one of those orgasms I had in "the beginning". I swear to you... my latest ones have been awesome. From the one from the other day where that part where you are just about to climax lasted forever and then felt like a huge wave hit me to last night's just intense internal orgasm that hits hard and just super sensitises you... the kind where you move a certain way 10 mins later and you get an after shock...
OMG.
Here's to another one. hehehehe... :)
read | ♥ 6 | cmnt

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