I'd end war. I hate it.

I have a lot of books and material items on my list, but what I really want is a quiet and happy holiday. I want to see all the people we love without too much drama.

If you had one question you could ask me about living with chronic pain/fibromyalgia/being a pain patient, what would you ask? (it's something I'm doing for my blog)

This is a guy that does a lot of awesome chainmail work.

DarkAngel Metal Works
http://metalsmithsinaction.webs.com/index.htm

I'm not the same person I used to be. High school was only a simple 3 years back, but the person writing here now is not the person who was writing before. I don't know that I could truly explain why that is. Certain events have worked to shape who I am, and through new experiences and new set backs, high school Emi has turned into adult Emi. I don't always like it, and I don't always treat it as such. We all have our faults. But I try to enjoy life as I go.

I'm taking all my old baggage, and throwing it away. I don't care who did what to who anymore. I don't care what rumors were spread, or what words were thrown. I've sunk it to the bottom of the ocean and given myself new life.

I've taken people off my ban/ignore list.

I am forgiving, and you'd be surprised just how much I can forgive.

I'm not looking to make friends, bring people back to me. I'm just unlocking a door. I'm keeping myself open because when you're closed, you miss opportunities. And I'm tired of being scared behind my locks.

Dedicated to Wayne Geatches

3/26/71 to 11/24/06
R.I.P. My Friend

Where was I
the night you left this mortal world
to walk to the lighted path
toward a field so golden and bright?
Where was I
when you felt the warmth
and the pain disappeared?
Where was I
when the lights in the night
flashed before your eyes
and left you disembodied?

The warm hugs of friends
gone before you
greet you at the gates.
Each smiling face is there
just as they were when they left.
They sat beyond the gates
waiting patiently for your arrival,
ready to welcome you in.
But where was I?

There used to be a time when I thought love could get through anything. I thought that as long as there was love, there was a path toward that safe haven.

But now I know just how wrong I was.

I also used to think he loved me.

Michael Doyle, the one who said he loved me, is nothing but a lying, cheating jerk. He's also a fucking coward, with his tail between his legs as he runs off in the direction where he thinks he'll be safe. He fucked up big time, and he can't handle the consequenses of those actions. He is nothing more than a child, doomed to run away from EVERYTHING that is too difficult: school, life, LOVE.

I meant nothing to him. And now I need to work on making him mean nothing to me...