Imaginary?
- Name
- Charlie
- Age
- 17
- Gender
- Female
- Location
- Here,, and there..
- Joined date
- December 9th, 2007
Stories
The Tragedy of Human Life
Latest update: Chapter 1 on December 28th, 2007These Rusted Gates
Latest update: Chapter 1 on December 24th, 2007
Journals
What if you really want to do something, but suck at it?
October 16th, 2008Trying to shake off writer's block.
September 29th, 2008I need your help =)
September 16th, 2008Twins gotta love em.. xD
September 10th, 2008I don't deserve to be here
June 28th, 2008Another funny fight between my sisters
April 8th, 2008OMG I officially love my 3 year old sister xD
April 6th, 2008A really bad nightmare that felt so good.
March 31st, 2008Apparently, I'm not allowed to feel
March 27th, 2008I have feelings too
March 23rd, 2008
About
----------------------Imperfections
--------------------------Imperfections
-----------------------------Imperfections
Our one, true self is tainted with imperfections. We try to hide it, mask it, behind a smile, a laugh. We try to change it, strip it off ourselves. But our imperfections are forever engraved in us, taking it away means taking away a part of you ,but we still do it. Why? Because of love, for the ones we love, we strip ourselves bare of these flaws and in the process, we manage to rip a part of ourselves too. But it doesn't matter because we do it for love
Life is fucking GOLD
It all started with Green Day

When Boulevard of Broken Dreams caught my attention on a Sunday morning, I started to love rock music. When I learned When I Come Around by ear, I started getting serious on the guitar and the bass. My first dance at our prom with the song Good Riddance, the happiest New Year of my life with Longview on the radio, my first time bonding with my father talking all day about Green Day, the first band I got into, my first time singing, my new self. It all started with Green Day.
I live my days in the comfort of these angels

These are our angels in disguise, our heroes. I know it has been said millions of times but never, not once, has it lost meaning to us. We all have different stories, different versions on how they have saved and moved our lives and we cherish that. We scream along to their songs, we write about them, we thank them, praise them hoping somehow somewhere they are hearing it. How beautiful it is to hope, to dream that someday we can walk with our heroes.
IN THIS SCREWED UP, MISUNDERSTOOD MAN I SEE MYSELF

You went through a lot. I cried when I found out all the things you've gone through. But you've managed to surpass all that. You've managed to pull yourself together and I respect you so much for that. Its just sad that so many people judge you and hate you automatically without even knowing you, just because you don't have the perfect hair, just because you like to fool around, just because you are being true to yourself. You are my hero and I will not deny it.
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