MySpace a place for friends

To start, my name is Liona... I am twenty three. I have twenty eight holes in my body and thirteen wonderful chunks of ink under my skin. I am a watcher. I am a writer. I am an artist, and expressionist. I seek mutual understanding. I am going to try to get the most out of life, and learn everything that has relevence. I don't give a shit what the text books say... It's about living it. Lack of perspective equals ignorance. I want to see through everyone's eyes and hear what they hear. I want to love you and learn what powers can't be contained. Clarity will be the fourth key. My journey has begun.

I have wasted so much time wishing on every star, praying to every god and dreaming of things being better... And now that I'm left with my silence, and no response, I better fucking do it myself. I sold my soul for this, I might as well make the best of it, n'est pas? So I welcome back the so-called tragic little girl... It's been too long, but I see you've grown and eaten so many of the meek. Fuck 'em. With age comes beauty, and such sinister power... I am proud to embody such.

I am amidst a strange awakening behind my eyes. I realise that noone is what I expect them to be. Noone lives up to their potential, and they seem to resent even the slightest suggestion ov that. I have been accused ov being an attention whore, or being needy because I respond to being ignored with negativity. It's disappointment and nothing else. I always expect better... I always expect people to think clearer or try to understand. But we're far too busy with ourselves.
We all try to find whats important in life, to some people the goal may be happiness, to some success or to others it may be beauty. Me? I guess I forgot to make goals while I was 'growing up' as they call it. I was too busy observing people and trying to figure out what seperates us all... Obsessed with the oximoron ov "a million lonely people".
I always thought YOU were important in my life...
(My only passion in life is music. I need it to live. I am a writer, but I am not passionate about writing. I am an artist but I'm too much ov a cynic to pay attention to that. Music is the only thing that can give me chills, the only thing that can grab my attention from anything and hold it in that perfect beautiful moment. Music is the only thing that can fix me when I'm broken, break me when I'm fixed, remind me when I've forgotten, distract me when I'm too far in, wake me when I'm tired, relax me when I'm too alive or do whatever needs to be done. Music is the one thing I can never truly express, the one thing that puts me almost at a loss for words, nothing I can say will ever measure up.)
I have very little to show for my life, and even to this day I have no direction in life. I dropped out ov highschool to learn. I dropped out ov artschool because I felt they not only lacked anything to teach me, but any perspective on art or creation at all. I dropped out ov English because I felt they were lost in technicalities and would never discover the truth.
I had a son because he felt like he would be beautiful and strong, and he is. He is my daily saving grace. And my daily dose ov destruction.
I claim all the responsibility because noone else will. I create myself every day in the image ov my ideal. I also slowly lose the energy to give a damn about anything. I watch as the whole world takes two steps forward and ten steps back... Degression ov the masses. I watch how celebrities run our lives and tell us what to be, or what to rebel against. Everybody hiding behind masks. From here everything looks like brainwashing. From here, I'm losing the will to fight anymore. Lessons in futility, and learning the meaning ov 'lost cause'. Every day my heart is a little more broken from what I see and feel. I loathe the memory ov being told not to let it get to me. What a joke. People preach ignorance in the name ov happiness but that only fuels the problems and isolates us all. I would rather be unhappy and aware than blissfully in denial. People say nothing is original anymore, but I think that's a crock ov shit and a demonstration in laziness. Each ov us are original, if we can actually open our eyes and think for ourself as individuals... Every human being and/or life form is original in itself. From there it's a matter ov self-discovery and who your friends are. Inspiration is wonderful, directly taking an idea and calling it your own is quite the opposite. Everyone wants to be someone else now, so we live in a world of isolated copy cats. Runway fashion show lives. I fill a thousand pages, use up a thousand pens and burn my eyes out writing in the dark... For what? Why should I give a fuck about you anymore? I have given everyone in the world my love* but most of the time it's received with manipulation or stupid fucking mind games. I still get called a bitch or a slut. All the love I send out is returned to me in hate-filled insult.
I evolve only to have it all copied everywhere I look, my ideas and creations ripped from me... Even my words called brilliant when copied and pasted into others' lives. My face is called beautiful when worn on someone else...
This is not why I have shared myself. I loved because I thought you were worth it. I tried to help because I know what it's like to be lost. I shared my words with you because I thought the world needed understanding and communication. I cried because I didn't know what else to do.
This is my world, it was beautiful at one point and I tried to share that, stupid me for thinking you would give a shit.
Maybe I'm selfish to think anyone out there will ever feel real.
*I am eternally greatful for the kindness I have received in my life, I count every one ov you who have blessed me with yourselves. I miss everyone I have lost, and cherish everyone I have left.

♥AISHITERU♥
My Husband, JESSE

And this is my newest boy
♥WADE MCARTHUR♥

He squeaks a lot...

Oh, and I have a Deviant Art page if you wanna check out more photos and such

I also have a Livejournal

...And a Vampire Freaks page

...And I'm on BME

That might make more sense out of me...
Or not... But there are pictures!

Speaking of pictures, go look at these ones!!

Okay, seeing as MySpace has no real security and won't delete any of the people that are STEALING my images/writing on here, I figured I'd make a list...
At least that way you know they're not me.
And maybe they'll be so ashamed of themselves that they'll stop using my pictures or whatever they've stolen and get their own.
Wishful thinking, but it's worth a try.

First off we have Miss X who claims taking other people's pictures without permission and editting them is ART.
She's even copyrighted a gif she made of one of my pictures.
She does NOT have permission, but obviously that doesn't stop anyone.
She has a bunch of other random pics in her gallery too, check them out she might be ripping you off too!
Gia was using my picture too, but she's deleted her profile.
?©Box of Crayons™ is set to private, but her default picture is definately mine. It's one of the red-lipstick halloween pictures I was showing off a couple months ago.
thispunkassbitch has plagerized my writing on his profile with the defense of "feeling the same way" He took a large piece of my writing, and upon asking him not to steal my stuff, has now "contributed" a bunch of idiotic misspelled garbage to it in an attempt to make it his own.
B r o k e n is using my pictures, and has also copied and pasted EVERYTHING on my profile (likes/dislikes/music/heroes/description etc)
They've also copied and pasted almost ALL my blogs, even keeping the same titles I gave them, same pictures and same comments I wrote...
Their slideshow blog has almost a hundred pictures of me on display... Most outrageous profile fake I have seen up to date.
~*Jackie*~ is stealing my pictures... Amongst my pictures are a bunch of some little girl. Makes me wonder whose kid she's claiming to be the mother of. Sigh, this shit sucks,
More to come... Unfortunately.