This isnt a poem!!! just something to remember for me!!!

Avoid French toast at all costs
Belail= biggest fear
Hello there mr mind reader. Whats it like? Does the buzz of this nonchalant, if that is the right word, chatter give you a headache? Or do you feel no pain at all, just annoyance? Do you ever wish that you didn�¢ï¿½ï¿½t have the gift? Do you ever feel like a peeking tom, seeing images and hearing words that are not meant for you? Whats it like for your family? I bet that there are no secrets. Do they get annoyed when they have to watch what they�¢ï¿½ï¿½re thinking around you? Please, tell me.
Once I had a dream where I was shot in my brain, right behind me ear. How did I know that there wouldn�¢ï¿½ï¿½t be any pain?
Why must I cry silent tears?
Why is one eye hard, cold, unfeeling. Like a gray stone. It holds the fears of human. Why is the other eye light, almost a white color gray, with a blueish tint? My eyes change that color when I cry. This is how I describe my eyes. One holds invisible tears, the other hold human fear.
My mind is strangely centered on partick right now. God I miss him. I wonder if he remembers everything we did, everything moment we shared. He was so sweet. I look at the night sky and cant help think, has he changed? I know I have. I am not the girl who would kiss any boy for a nickel. I am not the girl who was patricks opheliac and vise versa. I still do love him. I want to see his smiling face if just for one more time. I still have the unicorn necklace to kissed while it was around my neck, I wonder if he still has the dolphin one he had that I kissed. When I look at the sky its hard to imagine it�¢ï¿½ï¿½s the same sky he looks at when he goes to bed. I wonder what he would think of me now. I am still pale and pretty. But a little fat. Maybe I�¢ï¿½ï¿½ll ask heather if she has mommy sharons phone number still. If she does, here is the message I�¢ï¿½ï¿½ll leave if the phone still works. �¢ï¿½ï¿½Hi. This is Marisa von Heydenreich. You may not remember me. We lived across the street from you when both of our families lived in Lakewood still. Me and Patrick were best friends, remember? Yeah, heather was my, rick my dad, and annie my little sister. Me and annie would call you mommy Sharon. Well, if you forgot about us, then I am truly sad. I haven�¢ï¿½ï¿½t had one thought since you guys left that didn�¢ï¿½ï¿½t involve Patrick. I haven�¢ï¿½ï¿½t seen him sense that time we came to visit you guys in philedelphia. Well, anyways, I was wondering if you could call me back. Our number is 562-493-4751. please do. I really miss you guys and need to hear your voices again. Oh and if Patrick has a email address, can he give it to me if he wants to. If you guys don�¢ï¿½ï¿½t feel like letting me back into your lives, only me, heather and the rest don�¢ï¿½ï¿½t know I am talking to you, then please just call me back saying so. Sorry this message is so long, its just that I really want to talk to you guys again. Whatever you choose, to let me in your life again, or to give me the cold shoulder, then please let me know either way. Please, please, please call me back. I�¢ï¿½ï¿½ll repeat the number again. . thank you for your time.�¢ï¿½ï¿½ I�¢ï¿½ï¿½m really desperste, okay? I cant go on much longer without Patrick. Sometimes I wonder if the real reason why I am doing all these things for fame, like being an actress, author, or artest(hehe they all start with the letter a) is so that Patrick can see that I am still out here, waiting for him.

Okay, its weird how I can remember these things, and yet are failing in school. My mind works better for love and bella than it does for trite human things. I will always remember Williams promise. Okay the strangest thing is what happened after the dream. See, I am really sensitive to others thoughts, I am on the brink of being able to fully hear them. I was really close to Patrick so I couls read his mind. I know that the dream was mine, and that he cant read my mind, but we were really close and it wouldn�¢ï¿½ï¿½t be the first time that he and I had shared the same dreams, from different perspectives. When I woke up from the dream is when the real strangeness began.
As I awoke, I remembered perfectly me dream. It felt weird that I wasn�¢ï¿½ï¿½t scared even though I commited suicide in the dream. I was actually�¢ï¿½�¦ happy. I walked over to my window and opened it. It was a cold night and the wind blew against my thin nightgown. I looked out to see the lights flicker on in patricks room across the street. He and I both had the rooms by the front lawn in our houses. I watched as Patrick shot up straight. His chest was moving up and down like he was having trouble breathing, or like he had I nightmare. I watched as he turned off his lights, opened the blinds, and then opened the window. His window didn�¢ï¿½ï¿½t have a screen on it, but I worked with mine so that I could get it out easily. Patrick opened his window and looked across the street to find me looking back at him. I noticed his face turn bright red and his hand rubbed his cheek. I just rolled my eyes. He smiled and crawled out his window. I opened the screen to mine and went outside. We both layed out on me front lawn. We fell asleep. I awoke to the sunrise and quickly shook pat awake. We needed to be in our beds for when the nosey adults came. This day, he proposed to me.
He was eting snails�¢ï¿½�¦ again. Veronica, our babysitter, was watering the flowers as he did so, and I sat in a white dress on the grass, scrunthing up my nose in disgust at pats lunch. We were makng fun of him, veronica and i. after eating another snail, pat smashed a hole on two sides of it. He grabbed my hand and pulled it over to our hiding spot in the bushes. As I stood there, the got down on one knee and said �¢ï¿½ï¿½Marisa, I love you. Will you marry me?�¢ï¿½ï¿½ I said yes. He placed the snail shell ring on my pink and kissed my hand.

Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me. Time does move on, but will I?

Annie had a weird dream. Dana, a girl who had hair like emilie autumn, but the color of victorias, was in it. She was a demonic vampire, but not evil. There was a evil vampire, but there was only a picture of their hand. It was a girls hand and was snoe white. hearts and drips of blood, and the nails were red. This was a pure blood vamps hand

Annie wakes up every night and hears deep breathing in her room.

Who the hell is dianha?

Is emo so bad? God, I am one. I�¢ï¿½ï¿½ve started to slit my wrists. They burn. The skin is raised and red. It feels like its on fire. Atleats it stopped the pain in my chest, momentarily. What will the children at school say. Garret will probably start calling me emo again. I need to control my temper better. If not, he will die very soon.

Emo must be hard to live up to. My glas picture frame broke and some of the glass shards made perfect razors to cut myself with. Right now I have a slit on my thumb and wrist. It hurts like hell, but not to much on the other hand. Pain doesn�¢ï¿½ï¿½t hurt to much if its all you�¢ï¿½ï¿½ve ever felt.

There is no forgiveness. Why do you think that there is a purgatory and hell. People say that all you have to do is ask the lord for forgiveness, and he will grant it to you. That isn�¢ï¿½ï¿½t always true. Every day I beg for forgiveness, never seeing any mercy. Why did I do what I did? Why must I be so full of sins. If you ask me, humans are sins.

Knowledge- noun- sin, unethical, unappropriate, unexcusable, dangerous, unfaithful, unacceptable, unapladable, unnessicary,