Angel of Death

dertodesengel @ 2005-03-16T14:57:00

2005-03-16T20:02:18Z

I would really like to know why other's actions are MY fucking fault.

I am not a god damned child.

I hate people.

I'm going on a fucking hatius. Fuck my paid account, it ins't worth the bullshit.

EDIT: don't defriend me, i still check my list

DAMNIT IF YOU DON'T READ THIS I KILL YOU

2005-03-10T03:55:30Z

Imagine, if you would, being adopted by a gay couple as a baby. Suspending any judgments or questions about how and why, imagine your feelings if your primary caregivers were either two lesbian women or two gay men. Pick one or the other couple and get in touch with your feelings.

These people love you very much and are proud of you. You love them too and want them to be proud. These men or women nursed you when you were very sick, walked you to your first day of school, taught you to read, bought you your first bicycle. What would that be like?

What would it feel like if these gay people had other children, too--children who identified themselves as gay? Your older brother has a boyfriend with whom he holds hands. You have seen your older sister kiss her same-sex date. What would that feel like?

And what would it feel like if all others thought you were gay, too? Not only do they think you are gay, they expect you to be gay. In a variety of ways, they let you know that if you want to make them proud, if you want to make them happy, if you want to be always welcomed, you will one day bring home someone of the same sex. They are counting on you to be gay. How do you feel and who do you tell how you feel?

Let's leave the house. You are fourteen years old and heading to your first day of high school. Remember that day? You are sitting next to your best friend on the bus. The bus driver has a song on the radio and all of the kids are singing the words to the song. You know the words and you are singing at the top of your lungs, "I'm gay. I'm gay. I'm gay!"

Without figuring out how and why it would work, how would it feel to be fourteen years old, sitting next to your best friend who is gay and who thinks you are too, singing a gay song the gay bus driver has turned up loud on the gay radio station? How would it feel if every song you ever heard was written by one gay person to another? What if every book you ever read, every movie you ever saw, every billboard you ever passed featured the beauty and joy of gay love? How do you feel and who do you tell how you feel?

Now, not everyone is a healthy, happy homosexual. There are people who are thought to be sexually obsessed with people of the other sex. The very thought could make you sick. These people are technically called heterosexuals, but most folks refer to them as "breeders." "Make love not breeder babies," the bumper sticker says. Once, when a local group of breeders tried to get legislation passed so they would not lose their jobs or apartments for being straight, you actually saw a sign that read: "Kill a breeder for Christ."

In seventh grade your best friend whispered in your ear that "God would vomit in the presence of breeders." That same year, someone wrote in Magic Marker on the john wall, "Kelly is a breeder," and no one sat with Kelly all week in the school cafeteria. In eighth grade, the boy suspected of being a breeder was teased incessantly and was always the first one hit in the head with the dodge ball during gym. The girl suspected of being a breeder had her locker trashed on a regular basis. How do you feel and who do you tell how you feel?

Your homeroom teacher is gay. The principal is gay. Your guidance counselor is gay, and the librarian is gay. Everyone thinks you are, too.

You go to college, hoping things will be different. Please let it be different. In college there is a group of breeders just like you who are brazen enough to have weekly meetings in the student union. But everyone makes fun of them. No one wants to share a room with them. No one wants to sit with them in the cafeteria or have them in their social groups. Some people actually get up and move if a breeder sits next to them in class. The posters announcing their meetings are defaced or torn down. So keep on your mask. Stay in the closet. Date someone of the same sex. You are now expected to french kiss. You are now having gay sex. Such pressure to conform. How do you feel? Who can you tell?

As a senior you are walking down the street and at the gay newsstand on the corner you see a gay man pointing and laughing at something. He is pointing and laughing at a tiny stack of newspapers that say Heterosexual News. There are people with the same sick secret you have who are organized enough to put out a newspaper, and this man is laughing at it. When he moves on, you reach down, grab the breeder newspaper, grab two gay magazines to hide it, put down more money than the three of them cost, don't look the man behind the counter in the eye, don't wait for your change, hurry home to your room, lock the door, think of a hiding place for this piece of trash because if your roommate discovers it you are out on your ear, and read about yourself for the very first time. Read each word carefully.

On page 6 you see an advertisement for a bar located in your college town that caters to people just like you. Every night of the week when you are with gay friends pretending to be gay yourself, heterosexual men and women are gathering in this bar. You decide you have to see for yourself. Not once have you ever met another heterosexual person. Whatwill they be like?

You sneak away from your gay friends and go to the bar. You enter nervously and order a quick drink. Then another. Then another. Fortified enough to look around the room, you see men dancing with women. Men and women are laughing and talking and holding hands and putting their arms around each other. Initially it scares you, but strangely enough you feel at home.

The attractive person of the other sex who has been smiling at you from the other side of the bar finally gets up the nerve to walk over and introduce him - or herself to you, and offers to buy you a drink. You talk nervously at first and then with excitement. You say it is your first trip into a bar like this. "Is it safe?"

"The police used to raid it and take us all down to the station every so often, but they leave us alone pretty much now," he or she explains. "Would you like to dance?"

The next day your gay friends say, "Boy, are you in a good mood. Where were you last night?" All day long, all you can think about is the bar, your new friend, and how comfortable you felt being surrounded by people just like you. You return over and over. You spend a lot of wonderful time with your new friend--with your new love. You can't stand to be apart from your friend. You want to introduce him or her to your gay friends and to your gay family, but you are afraid. You don't want to lose your family or friends, but you don't want to lose your new love, either. Keep your secret.

Eventually, the two of you get an apartment together. It has to be a two-bedroom apartment because the gay landlord would never rent a one-bedroom apartment to a man and a woman. That would be sick and disgusting. Besides, how would you ever be able to entertain your gay friends and gay family? So you stretch your dollars and rent a two-bedroom apartment. You put your possessions in one bedroom and your lover puts his or her things in the other, and you close the shades at night and hide your breeder books and newspapers when you leave for work because you can't risk losing this honeymoon heaven you have found for yourself.

No one at work knows about your friend--not your boss, not your office mate. His or her picture is not on your desk. You don't call each other at work. You attend office social functions alone or you bring a gay date. You panic when people start talking about holiday or weekend plans, when they attempt to fix you up with their gay brother or lesbian sister, or when someone tells a breeder joke.

It's okay. You can survive it, you think. You're fine. It isn't fun, but it's tolerable. And then one day you are walking home and a stranger asks you how your friend is doing. "Did your friend make it?" they ask. "How horrible it must be." You sense tragedy. No one called you. How could they? You insisted that your lover not carry your name in his or her wallet. What if the wallet was stolen? People would find out.

Finally you find your friend on the other side of a plate-glass window in the intensive-care unit of a local hospital. With eyes swollen shut, he or she fights for life alone because no one told you. Your first impulse is to rush in, take his or her hand, kiss it gently, and say, "I'm sorry. No one told me. I'm here. Hang in there. I love you," but you quickly remind yourself that the gay doctors and gay nurses who are attempting to bring back out of critical condition the love of your life presume they are working on a homosexual. What would their reaction be, you wonder, if they knew that this person is a breeder? How would that affect them? Should you do anything that would reveal the secret?

Do you go into the intensive-care unit, or do you sit outside and wait. In either case, can you call your gay boss or your gay office mate and come out at that time? Can you tell them you won't be into work the next day and why? Can you ask that someone come down and sit with you? How do you feel and who do you tell how you feel?

ETA: I didn't write this, I read it through carmen in this post. Please don't credit me with it!

Ali gave me the link, I decided to post it up because I know some of you won't click on links.

dertodesengel @ 2005-01-31T09:02:00

2005-01-31T05:02:46Z

SPAM!!!

Give me 500 comments in this entry. Or whatever, really. YOU, in particular, don't have to supply the whole 500, but a tiny contribution would be nice. Then let me know if you post this in your journal and I'll return the favour.

REN-CHAN! This is for you!

2005-01-17T17:04:22Z

inspired by a poll by Ren

Because I am as dorky as everybody else...

2005-01-17T02:21:02Z

Okay, alot of people have been making icons ... but what of banners? Behold, banner...

Because I survived the LJ blackout of 2005...

I had no journal for two days ... I am glad to have it back. *hugs* I love you LiveJournal, may I never take advantage of you again.

Comment if you're taking. ^_^

dertodesengel @ 2004-12-07T04:33:00

2004-12-07T00:33:15Z

click here for the code</font>

dertodesengel @ 2004-11-05T06:16:00

2004-11-05T02:22:22Z

http://www.hrc.org/millionformarriage/index.shtml

http://anon.newmediamill.speedera.net/anon.newmediamill/video_m4m/index.html

please ... sign this! Everybody has the right to marry who they want! pass it on!

dertodesengel @ 2004-11-03T08:12:00

2004-11-03T04:24:55Z

In response to This post, I have made this.

Thank you, Erin sama!

What is so great about being against Gay Marriage? The world has changed and so has its views.
Click here to show your support in our changed world.

dertodesengel @ 2004-10-13T06:11:00

2004-10-13T02:11:38Z

THE ULTIMATE SILENCE
October 12, 1998

Six years ago today, Matthew Shepard was murdered for being homosexual.

What will you do to end the silence?

Click here to post this on your own page or weblog

Does anyone know if they show the movie made in his memory about his death? I want that movie ... only movie where my mom actually sympathizes with someone who is homosexual.

dertodesengel @ 2004-10-06T07:09:00

2004-10-06T03:09:32Z

*HUGS* TOTAL!
give dertodesengel more *HUGS*

Get hugs of your own

GIVE ME HUGS DARN YOU!

dertodesengel @ 2004-09-29T20:13:00

2004-09-30T00:18:04Z

To those of you who refuse to reply to my "friends cut" list, this is your last chance.

DO NOT assume that you are on the list. In fact, only about three people are on that list forever. One because she is, of course, my gf. Another because I don't have the heart to delete her, though I know she won't ever add me back. The third and fourth are two people who has stuck through a lot of things and yet still talk to me like normal.

shahni
ryuu_ouji
crystalmirage
koijewel

Those are on the exempt list.

IF YOU ARE NOT LISTED AND WISH TO STAY, then COMMENT HERE

And don't tell me you've got no power. I knew EXACTLY who has power and who doesn't. I told you once, I told you before. I'm not taking any shit this year. And I'm in a bad enough mood to go total-bitch on you if you tell me you never saw it.

You've got until October.

EDIT

post on the comment thing, not here.

dertodesengel @ 2004-09-14T22:17:00

2004-09-15T02:17:37Z

Bisexuality is real. Get over it.

random nostalgia

2004-08-16T03:18:30Z

Great. Just fucking great. Of all the times to get one, I have a mega mental block. And I don't mean a "oh crap, what should I put?" I mean a "THINK DAMNIT THINK!" one. Hell, even with my bad blocks, I could rp like normal. Now I get halfway through and my mind stops. It just hits a brick wall and stops. This is such a peice of shit it isn't even funny. I'm lagging in just about anything that involves writing.

I think I cried for five minutes today after waking up. Why? I was in so much damn pain it wasn't funny. The backs of my legs hurt so much that if I even move then, I get this jolt of pain that makes me look like a cripple. I can't even sit down without taking at least a minute to do so. It hurts so bad to move that I dread walking, standing, sitting, laying down, etc. Anything to do with my legs, I don't like it.

I finished Stalking Darkness today! Yatta! We had a storm, so I had to rush offline and while it went on, I buried my nose in the book. Before I knew it, it was two hours later and the storm was gone. @_@ It was getting late, so I decided not to go online until I finished it, since the chapter I stopped on was near Alec's escape! And then Alec kissed Seregil and I got all fangirly.^^ But Seregil's words of Alec being confused made me frown, since Seregil is supposed to be smarter than that. ^_~ I loved how the book ended, though! With Nysander coming back and waking Alec up and Seregil's stupidity. Mou, call me a sap, but I loved it. I'll start Traitor's Moon tomorrow possibly.

Well, nothing else to report...

I was reading through old entries on my old journal and I came across this line...

Last night, they were showing my brother's girlfriend little pictures about him when he was young. I was in some of them and my dad said, "When you're date comes over, we're going to show them this." Boy, that brought back memories. I was going to say, "You missed your chance," but then they'd start asking a whole bunch of questions I didn't want to answer.

I suppose, now that I see it, that there is a big difference to how I loved then and how I love now. Al li mentioned of that was a simepl "'ve got my own baka koibito" when we got together and a "this day sucked" when he broke up. Who? For all the love I proclaimed to have for her then, it was Candace...

"What happens when you confess to the same person twice about the same thing?" Somebody on my Rivendell proboard asked me that. I tried to answer, but my mind wasn't on the question. He wanted to know because he was about to do that. I couldn't answer that without mentioning my personal life.
All I can say, is that I'm glad I confessed again. I felt so guilty because I hadn't told someone something that needed to be said. I never thought it would turn out this way. I always thought I'd run off with some guy in High School and the only relationship I'd have was with a guy. Its amazing what life can do to you if one person is introduced.
I'd say I have to thank my mom. No, my first eighth grade math teacher. Don't ask why I thank her. I have my reasons. I wouldn't have met my two best friends if it wasn't for her. Then nothing would have sparked and I would have never felt this way about somebody. They know who they are. I've already told them. I couldn't sleep last night until about 4:00 in the morning because my mind wouldn't get off of them. (Why am I saying 'them' when its only one person?)

That confession was probably the stupidest thing I could have done. If gave me false hope I never should of had..

How could I have forgotten this! I love this entry!

hm... this one too ^_^

AMV pimpage

2004-07-22T15:29:15Z

--Teien no Hana
comments: Shahni sent me the song for this one and I really loved it, so I wanted to do something with it other than play it over and over again in my WinAmp. So I opened my movie maker thing and put it in, then decided to make it this sweet little AMV with some of my favorite scenes from the AMVs I already had. That soon changed to just strictly a Prince of Tennis AMV and I am honestly happy with the results ^_^ I hope you enjoys it ^^

--One Random AMV
comments: Okay, I was bored, so sue me. I as listening to my music list when the Orphen opening came on and I had ideas flash through my head. Since I'm not all that talented at making AMVs, it turned out pretty much the opposite of what I wanted. There is one mistake that I"m too lazy to correct (there's a flash of the opening title of an AMV I was getting a scene from), but it kinda fits with my randomness. There are seven different scenes, each hosting a different anime/j-rock group. First its Dream performing Get over (only I took the music off the background), then Prince of Tennis, Final Fantasy, Princess Mononoke, Naruto, Hikaru no Go, and finally Two-Mix's music viedo from their song Truth. I was bored, sue me, that is my One Random AMV. ^_^

--Banana Phone
comments: I was completely bored and needed something to do! Neo sent me the song and I had this crazy idea floating in my head, so I went out and looked for Weiss Kreuz stuff. I found one AMV (wasn't good, but it had what I wanted) and so I threw in some random junk here and there. *gasp* I actually have FinalFantasy stuff in here! My credits are always fun to read and I add things here and there. In this, make sure you wait until it is over not halfway through. There's a message at the end. This includes Weiss kreuz, Hikaru no Go, Final Fantasy, Prince of Tennis, Dream, Truth, and I believe that's it.

--All About The Credits
comments:I was going to do like movies do and put in footage next to my credits, kinda like deleted scenes and random stuff, but it didn't work. So instead, I just screwed around in my movie maker until this came. It's a little perverted Hikaru no Go stuff from episode 60. Well, the words aren't perverted until now since I've left the subtitles up and just ... added some things. But it is all about my credits. I took most fun in creating those this time around than anything else. You definatly have to read them here, at the end. ^^ I still like this the most, though, out of all my AMVs ^_^

So that is my AMV pimpage. If you watch them, I wouldn't mind comments ^^

My wish is for a stressless night...

2004-07-15T04:57:49Z

I got into work and heard that they were writing people up for being late, but I don't have to worry about that. I'm never late. Angie got written up for something, though, and let at like 6 so tracie had to cover photo (which was swamped) so already me, Tracie, and Mr. F were all stressed out. Then I had to do my list which was nothing but cleaning. I swear, nobody has cleaned under the cartwells since I left ... it was so dusty and dirty that even the mop dind't clean it. That wasn't so bad.

Then came the 3 overrings in five minutes. One for ... I forgot the reason, but I think she dind't want the stuff. The next one the check wasn't working, but the THIRD one really got me ticked. This lady wasted HALF AN HOUR of my time for this too. First she had to explain what a coupon was. Yes, lady, I know what a fucking coupon does. THEN she proceeded to explain what she wanted and that it was on sale. YES I know it is on sale. Then she wanted to see if she could substitue it. Then she complained that the TOTAL SALE was a mail-in-rebate. So, after I rang up the fucking purchase, she wlaked out and said "I don't want this."

I went to lunch after that, I needed some kind of headache stuff. But, when I go to lunch, I find that somebody had been taking my cokes. I had a twelve pack, right? I had two the first night and offered one to Nancy, Tracie and Mr F. Only Tracie took one, so that's three. The next time I had two more. That's five. I go there tonight to find out that all of them are gone except four. WHERE THE FUCK DID MY OTHER FOUR GO?! I swear I was so pissed off! I barely had enough money as it was! They didn't need to go and take what wasn't theirs in the first fucking place! So I took my two cokes (after one for dinner and one for the floor) and put them in my locker. Now I have to spend the last bit of my money to get something to drink.

Then I got back from lunch an continued my cleaning duties. By the time ten o'clock rolled around, my hands were shaking horribly from the stress. x.x You guys might nto think it stressful just reading this, but believe me, this night sucked as soon as I walked through that door to work...

Yeah, and I got home to have my dad drunk. Not the 'I'm going to hit you' drunk (he never is) but the 'LOOK I'M AN ASSHOLE! WATCH ME DANCE!' drunk...

EBBY!!!!! I thought you'd be on T_T

Oh, have a nice trip Eric-kun!

and I made this for all who are in retail or have to deal with annoying costomers...

Sometimes, customers just suck.
We that work in retail know of this.
If you work in retail, click here and add this banner to your site.
We all know that sometimes, a customer just needs a good kick in the ass...

[Arigato Neo!]

The Picture

2004-05-06T23:31:28Z

This is a short story I had to write for English class. It sucks, but I'd like to get feedback, you know? I mean, anything is fine. Even if you have something to make it better (like an idea to stick in there or a sentance that could be worded better).

Title: The Picture
Author: teh j-chan
Author's note: this really sucks...I wasn't exactly happy when I wrote it

The Picture

It was just a child’s picture, something to be taken home to show a proud mother of her child’s work. Color came together to create a pattern of images, connecting together as one in a total. The child must have used colored pencils first, for they seemed to be the least noticeable with their lighter patterns of scratches. Crayons followed, their deeper feel covering the colored pencil enough to make another layer. Markers were attempted to be added next, but their liquid feel would stick to neither crayon nor colored pencil. A thin layer of charcoal was the last covering, spread on just enough to cast a shadow over the picture, as another layer into the imagination of one child.

The teacher praised the child, saying that the picture was beautiful and that the mother would love it very much when it came time to go home. The child, happy in the teacher’s praise, sat back down to draw more pictures, one for each member of the family and class. Six years of age, and the artwork talent was already showing through the small scribbles on the sheets of paper. A promise of a fine artist, with works up in every gallery around the world, did not seem like such a long way away for this small child.

Lifelike homes and animals were rapidly getting better each day. They were out of proportion most of the time, but other future artists couldn’t compare. A rabbit looked like a rabbit, a bear looked like a bear, and a garage looked identical to a garage. One might possibly mistake the drawing of the six year-old to that of an eleven year-old.

The child did not like drawing lifelike drawings, though, preferring the scribble the other children did as to not look better than them. She, as the child was a girl, loved her classmates, and hated to think they were jealous or envious of her artwork. She wished to be normal; to not have any great talents like that of art. Her family, teacher, and classmates praised her, but rarely did she take the praise.

The child, proud of her obscure and “normal” artwork, decided to show it to the class for the weekly show-and-tell. She explained each color, each stroke, and each corner. Her classmates sat silently as she pointed out her house, her yard, her family, and her friends. The students were silent as they watched and listened, wondering why her drawing was so simple.

The first question out of their mouths was “why.” Why had she drawn so below her ability, why had she not drawn lifelike, and why she wanted to give something so ugly to her mother? The girl looked out at her class, confused to why they were being hateful. They had always loved her artwork, cherished it, and hung it around the classroom. Why the change of heart now?

She was not discouraged. She would go home and show her mother the picture, and her mother would love it. Her mother always loved her artwork, even more than her classmates did. Frames with pictures in them lined the walls of their home, almost like framed wallpaper. Each picture clashed with the one next to it, but in the end created a beautiful scene of color and abstract design.

The little girl had to walk home from school that day for her mother had a meeting at work and her father wasn’t around. The father was too busy with his own business in another state to even bother with his wife and child, leaving them to fend for themselves. The child hadn’t ever seen her father, except in pictures still lying around.

Sometimes, the girl would draw something for her father. On Father’s Day, Christmas, his birthday, and even her birthday she would sit down and draw him a picture. Her heart would not be in it, but she would do her best. Every now and then, he’d send back a thank you card, but it would be store bought and extremely cheap, like he had somebody else get it for him. The little girl didn’t care, though, as long as it was a message from her father. Walking home brought the little girl’s father into her head again. She did not hear the yell, nor did she hear the squeal behind her. There was just sudden pain.

It was just a child’s picture, something to be taken home to show a proud mother of her child’s work. Colored pencil, crayon, marker, and charcoal came together to create an image the mother will never forget: a picture of love and happiness. The picture now sits on a gravestone, marked with the child’s name.

Her classmates stood around the grayish stone, crying and holding onto each other tightly. Not one had ever faced death before, and their hardest hurt was their first. Each brought a single flower, each student having a different kind and color. They lined around her resting place, making a picture of their own: their last gift to her, their picture to draw for her.

A car pulled up and a man walked out, dressed in black with the red around his eyes the only other color. The girl’s mother turned and spotted the man, her tears becoming stronger. The man said nothing, only wrapped his arms around the woman to hold her tightly in his embrace.

The man looked beyond the woman to the gravestone and cried, finally coming to the realization that his only little girl had died and he never once had seen her. The inscription below read, “Here lies a child so well loved, so cherished that God wanted her sooner than we were willing to let go.”

EVERYBODY CONGO!

2004-04-10T11:13:55Z

*begins a congo line*

HAVE IT CONTINUE PEOPLE! POST THIS JOURNAL COMMENT LINK TO YOUR LIVEJOURNALS AND HAVE THEM JOIN THE CONGO LINE HERE!!!

url to link to= http://www.livejournal.com/users/dertodesengel/21833.html

dertodesengel @ 2004-01-02T00:01:00

2004-01-02T05:01:27Z

Don't worry, Kayin, I am here to make sure Toshiki doesn't make you fend for yourself! If you would like to be my LiveJournal friend, comment here or you will not be added.

[EDIT: This has been constantly changed to go with the Journal Layout Theme]