What goes on in my head

Girl in language class: Can you PLEAAAAAAASE trade spots with me so I can be next to Christina?

Me: No!

Me in head (Ash talking): (Oh Dear Lord, I'm about to talk like a trombone player in this first sentence! XD) Man, shoo! I'm not going to move just because you're a spoiled brat! I never get to see my real friends that I pretty much don't even have, I have a bad day every day, and YOU get to see Christina and Meredith and everyone ALL DAY, and you can't stand ONE class period without sitting next to either of them. Sad, Sydney. Sad.

The kids that sit behind me: Hmm, I think I'll put my foot on the back of her chair's basket. She won't mind.

Ash: STOP! GET YOUR SNUFFNOGGING FAT FEET OFF OF MY CHAIR! LOOK AT THAT! LOOK AT THAT! YOU JUST KNOCKED MY PENCIL BAG AND MY GLASSES CASE OFF OF THE BASKET, AND YOU JUST PUSH YOUR FEET EVEN FARTHER INTO MY CHAIR! YOU DON'T EVEN NOTICE YOU'RE KICKING ALL OF MY STUFF!

I feel so good about myself today. In algebra, the girl behind me did exactly that.^ When people knock off or slide aroudn my stuff with their feet, I usually try to shake my things or shove a textbook at their feet (not as brutal as it sounds, it's really hard to hit their feet), but that has never worked. Finally I lashed out and swiped half of my stuff clean off of the basket and said, "Get your FEET off my chair!" Another girl next to me said 'Whoah', and at first I thought it was because of what I did. Nope, a few colored pencils had flown out of my ripped up pencil bag.(Okay, maybe the spasy thing, too.) I found that out when I looked at the floor a couple minutes later after noticing that my colored pencil packet wasn't so full. Next time I may just start beating someone with a textbook. XD

A certain someone on the MB: K, heres my sotry! hop u like it!!! *insert lame, talentless, tasteless, repulsive, vomit-worthy paragraphs of death here*

She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and other not-so-bright girls: 'OMG (gosh) that was soooooo amazng!!! right more pleese!!!'
'Oh, that was wonderful! Write more, please! You write your stories really well! :)'

Ash: ExCUSE me? Go SNUFF YOUR NOG! They couldn't write to save their life! All they know is how to insert unrealistic, choppy dialouge, and add bland, if any, description that no one cares about. You want to see something good? Try J.K. Rowling, Ray Bradbury-SOMEone who knows there's more to a story than that! Forget the dialogue and description props, this girl can NOT use proper grammar! She writes BELOW average! Then you all give her good feedback which makes me want to vomit MORE. You're not being 'nice'. Honest to God, my ex-best friend is an airhead about her singing because she's terrible, but her friends didn't have the nerve to tell her that, so she thinks she's good. Don't believe me? Think she's 'just having fun with what she loves'? Huh. Because a few weeks ago she gloated about how she was going to fill out and application for America's Got Talent. Hmm. Apparently she's German, now. XD

One of my pet peeves is people who are such airheads about their so-called 'talents' who have spineless or blind friends who build them up. It's even worse when (Not being a snuffnog here) you're really good at it, and you KNOW they aren't, but you both get the same sort of praise. That hurts. Wanna know why I stopped posting stories on the MB ages ago? Because I hate being classified with the other 'work' on there. I'm putting my foot down, I HATE Simpthy's work. She deleted the topic, but once she said she KNEW she was a bad writer in response to my post. (Hey, I tried to be careful, but it was eating her inside.) She was REALLY mad and took down the topic. I'm not appreciated much, but I savor such comments as 'Wow. Just wow. This is the best thing I've EVER seen on the message board.' (Arianna) and my friend at school telling me that I was an 'awesome writer'. (She read this really disturbing short story I wrote. It's called Marina's Ocean. Wonder if I should post it on here...) I savor things like that because they mean the WORLD to me. Writing means the world to me, Caleb means the world to me, cats mean the world to me, people's you-knocked-my-socks-off reactions mean the world to me, chocolate cake means the world to me. I'm a quiet, moody introvert at school, and never get the chance to show my talent. Now TELL me it's easy to get appreciation.

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As you can see, I rant and rave about several things in my mind. These unfortunate things make me a better writer. Some people surely wonder why my stories are so disturbing, or creepy, or unimaginably and creatively horrifying. It's because I've felt so many horrible feelings and so many grotesque ideas, I need to share. I like showing people that this quiet, short little girl has nightmares going on inside of her. She's deeper than you thought, and she's not as sweet as you assume she is. (How exactly does being quiet and short make you 'sweet'?) You see a quiet, emotionless, worthless person. Well you haven't seen anything yet. You don't know what I'm capable of. You don't know what I can do, and you don't know just how deep into your mind I can wedge my message through.