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Tamara Walker Sep 2018
I ask is it weird to say I love you?
Again I ask is it weird to say I love you?
Again I ask is it weird to say I love you?
Is it weird to say I love you?
Is it weird to say I love you?
Is it weird to say I love you
Is it weird to say I love you
Is it weird to say I love
Is it weird to say I love
Is it weird to say I love
Is it weird to say I
Is it weird to say I
Is it weird to say
Is it weird to say
Is it weird
It is
Something weird
Bird Apr 2016
She is so weird
She is so weird
She is so weird

The other girls all float around with their eyes painted like cats,
Rounded with black and flicked up at the end, but she
Swims with
her eyes painted like fish
One little flick down
One little flick up at the
End and
The other girls whisper about her
Saying

She is so weird
She is so weird
she is so weird

because
She has watercolor lips
In pretty shades of pink
Not sharp
And
Red
Like the other girls
She is not a collection of edges and shadows, she is
Soft and

She is so weird
She is so weird
She is so weird

She looks dreamy
And sometimes
Confused
The other guys whisper that
There is
Not much there
In her head
And that

she is So weird
She is so weird
She is so weird

She has three black lines embedded in the
Side of the
skin on her neck
Stacked like deep
Vs lined under
Each other and once I asked her
If they were birds in flight
Or gills
And she laughed
It wasn’t cruel
She pulled me close
And whispered both
With a smirk
And then she smiled wide
And shook her head and told me
That

I Am so weird
I am so weird
I am So weird

And though I knew it was an insult
When the cats whispered it
It wasn’t one when it came from the fish
MyIner Agony May 2017
Being weird is important to me. I find it's a gift because it means that you are different than everyone else. I know I am weird because not very many 9th girls have my hairstyle. I say weird things. Instead of saying, what's up, I say "wasabi". I tell corny jokes. I'm weird because I like hugs and not very many teenagers like hugs. I'm weird because I eat olives and sunflower seeds, for snack. I'm weird because I believe in fairy tales characters like mermaids, fairies and unicorns though people tell me that they're not real. I'm weird because I'd rather read a good book than watch T.V. I'm weird because I have at least 20 nerd glasses and 5 snap backs. There are so many ways to be weird. I'm the weirdest person I know so I'll use myself as an example.
I know I'm weird because not very many girls have dreads at 14 years old. I also say weird things. Instead of "what's up? "I saying "wasabi". I also tell corny jokes that I know aren't funny like, what did the penguin say when his friend asked "why did you slap me? ! " He said, ¨I didn't slap you, I high fived your face." It's not all that funny is it ….Thats why its weird to say it.
I'm weird because I like to give hugs to show someone I care, but others only do that with boyfriends and girlfriends. A ****** like me might have a fairytale land of their own, where fairies, mermaids and unicorns live. I have a fairytale land of my own, full of candy canes and gumdrops, fairies, mermaids and unicorns. I have a black unicorn with a green and neon yellow horn, green tail, and a neon yellow mane. His name is Lucky. His favorite snack is Skittles and, his favorite food is graham crackers. His favorite drink is strawberry milk. We have dinner under my tree full of hearts. I'm weird because all that I just said is childish, but I don't care.
A ****** like me might rather read a good book than watch television. A ****** like me might have twenty pair of nerd glasses and five snapbacks. A ****** like me might not wear dresses, skirts, or shorts. A ****** like me might write books and poems.A ****** like me might fall on purpose to make someone laugh. A ****** like me might like school. A ****** like me might stare into space without noticing. I do this five times a week for at least two minutes; weird right. A ****** like me may dance, sing, or look up at the sky randomly without knowing. I'm me and you're you. I'm not you and you're not me. So, please don't judge ******'s for being who they are because they're gonna be them and you're gonna be you because that's how its suppose to be. So how weird are you? I bet it is not weirder than me.
equitube May 2019
On the south side of kelso if it's there that ya choose to go
Well if its there ya go then ya just gotta know bout a man named tweaker joe
Now tweaker, he's a scrapper and if ya go down on his door
Don't you worry about wakin him up. He aint slept since 74
Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than a five eared dog

Now tweaker hes a scrapper and he likes his shiny things
And he likes to see what fun he has by the chaos that he brings
He got a custom BMX bike with a flashlight on the grill. He got 32 lb of brass in his pack, he got a dope bag in his shoe.

Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog


NOW Friday bout a week ago Tweaker scrappin cars. But at the end of the alley sat a cop named Thurman and ooh dat cop looked ******

Well he cast his light upon joe cuz Thurman had a plan
Tweaker joe learned a lesson bout messin with a future Sherriff man


Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog


Well the 2 men took to runnin and hes dragged down to the jail
Joey looked like a wrung out tweaker with a couple of teeth left

Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog

Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog
This is quite regional to South Kelso WA but it's funny. I premiered it at karaoke last night but forgot a newly written verse
Josh Anderson Aug 2015
tonight is a weird night
when all the weird people come out
and they do their weird things
in the streets of this weird city

tonight is the night
that eyes appear in the woods
following your every move
then vanish faintly

tonight is the night
that strange lights blink afar
and the noise beats around you
rising in eerie crescendo

tonight is the night
that ashes rise
and waltz in the bonfire like
Romanovs

tonight is the night
when you really start to hear things
a cat’s shriek THEN THE SOUND OF A ******
………...then dead silence

tonight is the night
when everything is weird
and everyone is weird
and I’m weird
and that’s alright

tonight is a weird night
when all the weird people come out
and they do their weird things
in the streets of this weird city
and that’s alright
Sections 2, 3, 4, and 5 use a rhythm scheme to help convey the idea portrayed in each
Maddy Jan 2018
I feel it is weird when the guy you like sits right next to you in class
Even when he knows you like him
And he rejected you

I feel it is weird when you love art with your entire heart and soul
But you can't even draw stick people
With straight lines

I feel it is weird when you miss someone
Who has hurt you more
Than anyone before

I think it is weird when someone complains about everything
But refuses to do anything
To change their situation

I think it is weird when people get depressed in movies
They always read more books
I watch movies

I think it is weird that I can look in the mirror in the morning
But I can not keep doing that
As the day goes on

I think it is weird that some people are so nice
Even after you discover their lies
Still trying to cover them up

I think it is weird that the hungrier people get
The angrier they get
But I get happy

I think it is weird
Because it is weird.
Weird.
Grazilla Paulac Feb 2016
Is it weird that first time meeting him, I see myself growing old with him?
Is it weird that I wanna be the sandwich he's eating right now?
Is it weird that I can't think straight when he's smirking?
Is it weird that his smell before shower is my favorite scent in the world?
Is it weird that I'm still having a crush on him even after a bad haircut?
Is weird that he can change my mood from ***** to puppy?
Is weird that laying on his chest is better than on my bed?
Is it weird that even after life, I would still choose him?
Is it weird that I'm writing a poem about him?
Addison René Oct 2015
weird how something so impermanent
can feel so permanent
weird how laying in bed all day can be so tiring
weird how the afternoon was made for naps
weird how the rise and fall of your chest
can make the ocean feel jealous of such flawless movement
weird how these memories still remain after years of abandonment
weird how we never knew we'd end up here
weird how the winter winds brought me to tears
weird how you are everything and nothing
weird how i now have nothing
Litzy Sep 2019
it feels weird
knowing i am not with you
knowing that we won’t be together for the rest of our lives like we once planned
nursing homes and having our rooms next to each other is scratched out
how from this point on we depart in a way
you are too busy for me to make plans with
too busy to call me
too busy to text me
and my mind is too busy sometimes too
spiraling thoughts spiral more
and i remember how we won’t be together
that feels weird
losing you in a way
except the only one getting lost is me
because you are perfect
and you can’t get lost
it still feels weird
knowing i won’t be the one you ask for the homework anymore
it feels weird that i don’t want it to be me
it feels weird that i have been wanting to escape these friendships for a while now
i am trying to take my opportunity
but at the same time i don’t want to be rude
i know what this situation feels like
my skin is dry now
from our most recent dry conversation
i could not even force myself to laugh
nothing was funny enough
i am sorry that i dragged you down for so long
that i dulled your shine
that i wasn’t able to provide the same support that everyone else was able to
it feels weird
knowing that we are related now
knowing that our friendship is complicated but still simple
a little too simple
simply complicated
it feels weird now
knowing that i won’t be there for you when it is your big first moments
promposal
first boyfriend
or even homecoming
it feels weird
that i don’t want to mix you up with the new life that i am going to have
that despite me having so much to talk to you about
i didn’t want to tell you anything
my mind no longer felt obligated to force my mouth to spill every little secret and detail
that it was more comforting to say that it was too much and i did not want to talk about it
it felt like torture
but not your presence through a screen
my own presence and my own breathing
it felt weird
i didn’t have the urge to want to have a sleepover with you anymore
suddenly eating breakfast and brushing my teeth next to you wasn’t as appealing
i would have rather stayed alone then done that
you were too nice
you couldn’t understand my feelings that is for sure
have fun at your concert though
i hope you find a cute boyfriend that treats you really well
i hope you forget me i truly do
i’m sorry i dragged you down so much
sorry i was the negative in a magnet and a pregnancy test
sorry i couldn’t be someone like you
i hope you forget me
and it feels weird
knowing that i hope i forget you too
Have you ever lost someone mentally, yet you realize that it is better with them not there?
JDK Sep 26
Life is so friggin' weird, I'll tell ya.
The older you get, the weirder it gets,
and it just keeps on getting weirderer.

Grossly weird.
Wrongly and disturbingly weird.
Upsettingly weird.

But then, now and again,
pleasantly weird.
Delightfully, excitingly weird.
Weirdly endearingly weird.

Then weirder still.
Off-puttingly weirder.
Over-sweetly weirdly weirder.
Understatedly, low-key weirder to the highest degree contradictory weird.

Maybe weird isn't so weird after all.
When it's the only constant in life,
then weirdness becomes the only reliably normal thing, oddly enough.
Weird way of seeing it.
Mara Siegel Apr 2015
I feel so ******* weird like
buy a pack of cigarettes weird like
I ate too much pizza and cake weird like
when was the last time I thought about my ex weird like
how soon is too soon to be in love weird like
got a job at a fast food chain restaurant that I can't even eat at weird like
I have to figure out how to pay the rent and electric bill before next week weird like
I'm gonna chain smoke because my new fast food job says I can't and I have to get it out of my system weird.
last week i had a small breakdown but i think i'm ok
Riiyyaa Dec 2018
It is weird
How what was weird is normal
What was normal is weird

It is weird
How you being normal is weird
And you being weird is normal

It is weird
How weird this sounds
For you
For me it normal how weird I sound
I feel so ****** weird today to even express properly
Drake Taylor Jun 2014
You love what you love.
When you want to love it.
For as long as you want to love it.
You are who you are.
You are forever unique.
You are literally a miracle.
This is beautiful.
You are free to love.
Free to be you.
Most are normal,
But some are lucky.
Some of us get to be weird.
And sometimes it's hard to be weird,
Normal people don't get it.
Why poetry can raise the hair on your neck,
Why a math problem makes you smile,
Why the little moments in life str the biggest.
And even though most people think weird people are well weird,
They are wrong,
Weird is lovey.
And weirdness is spreading,
Because being weird is a blessing,
For all the weird ones.
Little Bit May 2019
My inner world is weird
When I let go of
My inhibitions
My inner weird
becomes
Outer weird
And I get shy
Don’t be ashamed
Of your weird
Girl
Because your weird
Is what makes you
Your weird
Is your weird
And maybe
It’s not
That weird
After all
Maybe it’s not
That weird
After all
Walking fish and dancing trees, fire flies at noon and whispering leaves; come be weird with me.

Let's run where the Mustangs ride,
Let's roll with blue waves on summer's tide.
Let's gallop with sea snails and tell ancient tales, come be weird with me.

Let's chase the place where the common dare not go, let's dance and chant with African Tribes in Europe. Let's share with the stars the secrets that we keep, come be weird with me.

Let's Waltz with the antelope and hop with the impala, let's walk on frozen water, let's dance to sound of silence.
Come be weird with me.

Let's embrace our pillows,
Let's cheer up the willows, let's purr with the dogs and bark with the cats,
Come be weird with me.

Let's swim on green grass, let's be high on Earth, let's discover our true selves that we lost at birth, come be weird with me.

Let's take a road trip in our imaginations, let's back pack in our minds.
Let's be transparent in the Festival of Colour, let's be exposed in camouflage
Come be weird with me.
Hello, everyone! This is one of the weirdest sites: or your money back! We have ZIM, neopets, music, and much, much, more. E-mail us for questions, comments, complaints and information. Why not click on the Very Weird Stuff link to see more, or click on the music link? We have halloween and christmas pictures on the NeoPics link. Cheese is not a wild thing!!!!!!!!! Now I have decided to go for a world record. I will try to make the longest web page ever, made completely out of text! Won't that be fun? I will just type, and type, and never, ever use copy and paste. Wow...I really must be bored. Just goes to show what boredom can do to you. Any way, that's it for now. Wait, no it isn't, I still have to keep going, and going, and going. Because I do. THE REST OF THE STUFF I TYPE WILL BE COMPLETLY IN CAPS JUST BECAUSE I CAN. THAT IS ALL. SEEYA! Hi, I'm back. So far this is nowhere near the world record. I think. I don't exactly know where it is...oh, well. I'll just have to do the very best that I can. No one is really coming here, anyway. So it doesn't matter. By the way, TAB is a worthwhile, community-service organization. The form link is to a 100% fake TAB registration form that you can fill out just for laughs. I can't believe I'm bothering to do this. I have very low expectations of my site. None ever comes here, I could do this all day long and I still wouldn't have any more hits. This is just a pointless excursive in spelling errors and grammatical imprecision. May your day be shiney! The following is an extremely weird poem-thingy that I wrote when I was in a relatively weird mood:
never mind that noise my dear can anyone pass the cheese only if you say pretty please oh, boy do I have to sneeze. why must everyone always rhyme, why I’m a poet and don’t I know it? what I fear comes right after here not this life or the next will I ever be able to pass the test? we’re stuck in here, (alone my dear) and we’ll problem never get out so don’t start to shout. it’s dark and I want to go home is where the heart was where is it now? we’ll never know but oh crap it’s starting to snow and it’s time to show and tell about the well that you found last summer at camp when it was damp it was near the ramp oh god why must this be I liked that tree but now it’s gone, farewell so long I’ll miss you as long as you write but then I’m afraid to say good-night. my dear there’s nothing to fear that’s only a box that’s made of blocks next to the wagon that looks like a dragon why are you shaking it’s your fear that is making you shiver and act all a quiver. don’t you know that you only need be afraid of fear and never anything here and certainly not a post that acts like a ghost?
See, very weird. At least it fills up my word quota for the day. Not that I exactly have a word quota for the day. It just sounded very professional to say it. Anyway, I still don't think that anyone is actually coming here. You'd have to be an absolute loser (or really bored) to come here. I'd probley come here, but that isn't much of a surprise. After all, I've been to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website over 50 times. Pathetic. But, whatever. As long as I'm happy, right. Humor the crazy person, okay? Oh, guess what? According to someone you problem don't know, this is the second most pointless website ever! Next to the Really Big Button, of course. I feel special. Come on everyone, group hug. Okay, now I'm starting to scare myself...I'm gonna quit for today. Seeya. Now I'm back. Is this getting confusing to you? Too bad. Now I want you to go to http://quiz.ravenblack.net/blood.pl?biter=eon" If you do this I'll get points in the game. Come on all you non-existing people! Help me! You know you want to! It's a worthy cause! Honestly, the more time I waste playing the game, the less time I'll work on this site and the less stuff you gotta read. Although why you'd be here if you didn't want to read is beyond me. Maybe you're lost. Okay, if you want to get out, click the little refresh button, okay? Good...what? You say it didn't let you out? Oh, well. You must be caught in a time warp. Keep pressing it. Maybe you'll break free. What's that. The little counter at the bottom keeps going up? Never mind. That's just how many times you have to click before you can leave. Good-bye.

Hey, I'm once again: back. I don't suppose you fell for that little thing about the refresh button. After all, you're a responsible, intelligent person who apparently has a lot of time on your hands. Well, you can't possibly have more time than I do. I mean, after all, I made this site. You're only browsing it. And most people don't even come here. Not even my friends...sniffle The just ignore this poor, pathetic little page. All they do is fill out the TAB form and leave. I think. Maybe they're here right now! HI! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I'M FINE! THANKS FOR COMING! YES, I'M YELLING! Who am I kidding. This page won't get a single hit, unless I bribe people...now that has possibilities. Okay, fill out the TAB form, so I have proof that you bothered to come here and...uh...I'll...uh...send you a sandwich? Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery. I'm bored. I'm gonna go hug a moose. MOOSE! I love-d you moose! Hey, I'm back again! Yea...waits for applause okay! Now I want all you loyal fans...cricket chirps to go to the link to see what I'm like. I took a whole bunch of personality quizzes and posted them there. I'm an evil villain, kitty and a freakazoid so far. And I only took the quiz once, too. Spooky how accurate they are...anyway, I command you to go! I'm going. I'm back. I'm gonna start counting how many times I say back. Let's see: 1...2...3...4...5! Wow. I must really be desperate for something to do. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! It was one of my friends. Apparently this page really is getting long, because my friend said something to that effect. Maybe. Anyway, moving on! I'm just basically typing nothing. Just like all those reports people have to do. You know? With a specific number of words. They start out with half that number, and then just fill in words until they have the right amount. I salute those people. You're great tradition is being carried out here, on the second most pointless site ever! Well. Maybe eventually some weird, bored person will wander onto my site on accident and be mildly entertained be my site until they wander onto a live video feed of a coffee maker. Or maybe not. I only know that I'm entertaining me, which was my original goal. So. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. Yea, me! I'm so special. You see, most people, they don't like reading or writing. So if you're not most people, you've made it down this far without skipping, skimming or getting the spark notes version. (Which I think does not exist) My point is, if you've bothered to read this, then, (like me) you probley have also read the ketchup bottle so many times that you have it down verbatim. Look verbatim up. It's a word. But, you should know that, since you like reading. Or maybe you're just skimming. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading food labels. You might be asked a question about them on a quiz show. And now, for the million-dollar question: How many calories are there in a single serving of Mustard? I can just see it now...It could be called Know-Your-Food. Or You are What you Eat. It'd probley be as popular as those game shows that no one's ever heard of. Speaking of food, what's up with pie? There's strawberry pie, apple, pumpkin and so many others, but there is no grape pie! I know. I'm just as upset about this unfortunate lack of development in the pie division. Think about it. Grapes are used to make jelly, jam, juice and raisins. What makes them undesirable for pie? Would they dry into raisins? Couldn't you just stick some jelly in a piecrust and bake it? It just doesn't make any sense. Another thing that bothers me is ***** grinders. You know, the foreign guys with the bellhop hats and the little music thingy and the cute little monkey with the bellhop hat who collects the money? Okay. They're basically begging on the street. How did they ever afford an *****-thingy? Wouldn't it make more sense to get a kazoo, if you're broke? And if they're so poor, what possessed them to buy a monkey? I mean, I don't think I could afford a monkey, and I'm not exactly on the streets. Obviously I at least have a computer...so, back to the ***** grinders. I would have sold the monkey and the ***** and been able to eat for at least a year. Or, if I was weirder than I am, I could at least **** the monkey with the ***** and eat it. Why on earth did they keep the monkey? It must have cost a fortune to feed...not to mention the mess. That's just one of those many facts of life that are better left mysteries. Especially since no one but me would ask the question. I better go. I think I hear a monkey...Okay...now I'm back. That's the sixth time I've said back! I realize that this longest text ever must be very boring and not worth anyone's time. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. I'm not exactly sure who they are, but: thanks! Right now, my spacebar is malfunctioning...that's not good...I have to press it two or three times just to insert a freaking space. Maybe the evil little faeries with the sharp little teeth have put their evil faerie dust on my computer. Or maybe not. This is too frustrating. Goodbye for now...Now I'm back. And still frustrated. But for a different reason. Today I had the misfortune of playing a Treasure Planet game on neopets.com It was terrible. Apparently the point of the game was to get your character to shout "Whoo-Hoo!" as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Of course, when I started out I accidentally hit the rocks approximately three million times. Halfway though I used my four remaining brain-cells to decide that the game was dumb. So my goal changed from surviving to laughing evilly while my character died. So the game naturally did everything it could to preserve my life. The stupid game is still going on and I refuse to quit because I want my points. My character is actually dodging the stupid rocks better now then when I controlled him. I hate irony. Seeya. Okay. Now I'm back again. Today I added an update page, which is basically a less chaotic, outlined version of this without all the ranting. It's more like techno talk about arrays and how much I **** and whether or not the Braves will win this year. Okay, the whole braves thing is made up. But everything else I've said so far is true. I think. Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimer...Eh-hem. All contents of this site were designed for entertainment purposes only. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. Should you violate the purpose of this site: i.e. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Ooooo…that’s a great idea! I’m gonna start quoting from the Flaming Chicken Handbook! Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (that’s me) is allowed to cause vague, pain like sensations while the offending person (or alien life form, dog, etc.) isn’t paying attention. Now I have a purpose in life! To make up quotes from the non-existent Flaming Chicken Handbook, which I’m sure you have a copy of. No? Too bad. It’s in the mail, I promise! Now I must take my leave…and remember. Cheese is watching. Okay...I'm back...I think that eventually half of this thing will consist of the word back over and over again...that's just weird. Which fits the motif of the rest of the site. There's even a money back guarantee. Isn’t' that nice? See? Now no one can ever say that I don't take care of my viewers. Especially since I don't have viewers. I have readers. Wait...I really don't even know if anyone bothers to read this. Even if I put it in a less chaotic, more user-friendly format people would still ignore this because it involves: reading. Yes. Sad to admit, but the majority of people would rather read the summary at the back of a book rather than the whole book itself. What has the world come to? It's pathetic. Especially since I'm bothering to write all this. It's not fair! Why can't I have more readers?! All the other internet writers have nothing on me, except they're better at advertising, having a central theme/plot and basically more talented. Whereas I'm more into the whole ranting and raving stage right now. Plus, I am horrible at spelling. Which is bad. Thank the powers that be for spell-check. The single greatest invention of the computer gods. I'm getting bored, so I think I'm done for the day. May your day be shiney! I'm back again! And I feel weird! I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. Creepy. Just how much time do they have on their hands. Perhaps their just trying to be nice. I can just see it now...an organization devoted not to feeding the hungry, or peace, or love or whatever, but to giving recognition to all those poor, pathetic, unpopular websites. I wonder what it's name would be. Don't Ignore Sites? Would it be called DIS? Isn't that like a slang term for an insult? Would that be considered poetic justice, or just a nice coincidence? And why do I even care? I'll tell you why. Because I have nothing else to do right now. I could be playing neopets, but ever since my bad experience with Treasure Planet, I don't feel like it. Oh, by the way, I noticed that whenever I use spell-check, my stupid computer turns the word probley into to word problem. To prevent this, I did nothing. So, it is now up to you, the imaginary reader, to decide whether I mean probley or problem...it's almost like a game! But without the bad sound track. And I promise not to force you to live when you would rather die. Moving on, I have nothing else to say, but don't feel like quitting just yet. I'm like the little engine that could. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going, and going and going. Or I could be like that annoying guy on T.V. who keeps asking if you can hear him. If my site manages to last a decade, my readers snicker will probley wonder what I'm talking about. My answer is simple. It doesn't matter. I'm just rambling. Which means that it doesn't matter if you understand anything I say. Doesn't that make you feel better? I bet it does. Wow. Look how long this has gotten. I even impress myself. Who would have thought I have this much free time? And I congratulate any reader who has gotten this far. Ooooooo! You must check out the fortunes section of the random stuff page! I've just gotten an idea for some more, original, fortunes...I gotta go!(may the moose be with you) And now I am back. I swear. If iI fill out the fake tab form I'm gonna have to put back as my favorite word...I already have filled it out, though. Would it be cheating to fill it out again? Only if I had multiple personalities. Or would it be cheating if I didn't have multiple personalities? The world may never know. Just like how many licks it takes to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop. Would it vary? The number of licks, I mean. Someone could have super-disolving spit, or watery-spit. Or what if you took big ol' slobbery licks? Does the commercial take that into account? No. It doesn't. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. It deludes all of American's sweet, innocent, candy-loving children into thinking that a cartoon owl is smarter than they are! "Mr. Owl, can you tell us how many licks does it take to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop?" Or whatever. And "Mr. Owl" replies "One...Twoo...Three! Chomp" And he bites it. That teaches our youth that it's okay to agree to help someone, and then ruin their experiment. Well...it's not. I am going to start a protest group. Teens Against Cartoon Owls. We could call ourselves TACO! I love the little tacos, I love them good! That is a direct quote from GIR, co-star and comic-relief on INVADER ZIM
Walking fish and dancing trees, fire flies at noon and whispering leaves; come be weird with me.

Let's run where the Mustangs ride,
Let's roll with blue waves on summer's tide.
Let's gallop with sea snails and tell ancient tales, come be weird with me.

Let's chase the place where the common dare not go, let's dance and chant with African Tribes in Europe. Let's share with the stars the secrets that we keep, come be weird with me.


Let's Waltz with the antelope and hop with the impala, let's walk on frozen water, let's dance to sound of silence.
Come be weird with me.

Let's embrace our pillows,
Let's cheer up the willows, let's purr with the dogs and bark with the cats,
Come be weird with me.

Let's swim on green grass, let's be high on Earth, let's discover our true selves that we lost at birth, come be weird with me.

Let's take a road trip in our imaginations, let's back pack in our minds.
Let's be transparent in the Festival of Colour, let's be exposed in camouflage
Come be weird with me.
Bailey Kreutzer Oct 2012
It's weird
how you that cares not about my feelings
knows exactly how I feel
It's weird
That you who calls me ugly but
We have the same face
It's weird
that we could be sisters but
Later on act like strangers
It's weird
That I still love you
Deapite what you've done
To me we
Are weird
To my sister
Hello, everyone! This is one of the weirdest sites: or your money back! We have ZIM, neopets, music, and much, much, more. E-mail us for questions, comments, complaints and information. Why not click on the Very Weird Stuff link to see more, or click on the music link? We have halloween and christmas pictures on the NeoPics link. Cheese is not a wild thing!!!!!!!!! Now I have decided to go for a world record. I will try to make the longest web page ever, made completely out of text! Won't that be fun? I will just type, and type, and never, ever use copy and paste. Wow...I really must be bored. Just goes to show what boredom can do to you. Any way, that's it for now. Wait, no it isn't, I still have to keep going, and going, and going. Because I do. THE REST OF THE STUFF I TYPE WILL BE COMPLETLY IN CAPS JUST BECAUSE I CAN. THAT IS ALL. SEEYA! Hi, I'm back. So far this is nowhere near the world record. I think. I don't exactly know where it is...oh, well. I'll just have to do the very best that I can. No one is really coming here, anyway. So it doesn't matter. By the way, TAB is a worthwhile, community-service organization. The form link is to a 100% fake TAB registration form that you can fill out just for laughs. I can't believe I'm bothering to do this. I have very low expectations of my site. None ever comes here, I could do this all day long and I still wouldn't have any more hits. This is just a pointless excursive in spelling errors and grammatical imprecision. May your day be shiney! The following is an extremely weird poem-thingy that I wrote when I was in a relatively weird mood:
never mind that noise my dear can anyone pass the cheese only if you say pretty please oh, boy do I have to sneeze. why must everyone always rhyme, why I’m a poet and don’t I know it? what I fear comes right after here not this life or the next will I ever be able to pass the test? we’re stuck in here, (alone my dear) and we’ll problem never get out so don’t start to shout. it’s dark and I want to go home is where the heart was where is it now? we’ll never know but oh crap it’s starting to snow and it’s time to show and tell about the well that you found last summer at camp when it was damp it was near the ramp oh god why must this be I liked that tree but now it’s gone, farewell so long I’ll miss you as long as you write but then I’m afraid to say good-night. my dear there’s nothing to fear that’s only a box that’s made of blocks next to the wagon that looks like a dragon why are you shaking it’s your fear that is making you shiver and act all a quiver. don’t you know that you only need be afraid of fear and never anything here and certainly not a post that acts like a ghost?
See, very weird. At least it fills up my word quota for the day. Not that I exactly have a word quota for the day. It just sounded very professional to say it. Anyway, I still don't think that anyone is actually coming here. You'd have to be an absolute loser (or really bored) to come here. I'd probley come here, but that isn't much of a surprise. After all, I've been to the Really Really Big Button That Doesn't Do Anything website over 50 times. Pathetic. But, whatever. As long as I'm happy, right. Humor the crazy person, okay? Oh, guess what? According to someone you problem don't know, this is the second most pointless website ever! Next to the Really Big Button, of course. I feel special. Come on everyone, group hug. Okay, now I'm starting to scare myself...I'm gonna quit for today. Seeya. Now I'm back. Is this getting confusing to you? Too bad. Now I want you to go to http://quiz.ravenblack.net/blood.pl?biter=eon" If you do this I'll get points in the game. Come on all you non-existing people! Help me! You know you want to! It's a worthy cause! Honestly, the more time I waste playing the game, the less time I'll work on this site and the less stuff you gotta read. Although why you'd be here if you didn't want to read is beyond me. Maybe you're lost. Okay, if you want to get out, click the little refresh button, okay? Good...what? You say it didn't let you out? Oh, well. You must be caught in a time warp. Keep pressing it. Maybe you'll break free. What's that. The little counter at the bottom keeps going up? Never mind. That's just how many times you have to click before you can leave. Good-bye.

Hey, I'm once again: back. I don't suppose you fell for that little thing about the refresh button. After all, you're a responsible, intelligent person who apparently has a lot of time on your hands. Well, you can't possibly have more time than I do. I mean, after all, I made this site. You're only browsing it. And most people don't even come here. Not even my friends...sniffle The just ignore this poor, pathetic little page. All they do is fill out the TAB form and leave. I think. Maybe they're here right now! HI! HOW ARE YOU DOING? I'M FINE! THANKS FOR COMING! YES, I'M YELLING! Who am I kidding. This page won't get a single hit, unless I bribe people...now that has possibilities. Okay, fill out the TAB form, so I have proof that you bothered to come here and...uh...I'll...uh...send you a sandwich? Please allow 6-8 weeks for delivery. I'm bored. I'm gonna go hug a moose. MOOSE! I love-d you moose! Hey, I'm back again! Yea...waits for applause okay! Now I want all you loyal fans...cricket chirps to go to the link to see what I'm like. I took a whole bunch of personality quizzes and posted them there. I'm an evil villain, kitty and a freakazoid so far. And I only took the quiz once, too. Spooky how accurate they are...anyway, I command you to go! I'm going. I'm back. I'm gonna start counting how many times I say back. Let's see: 1...2...3...4...5! Wow. I must really be desperate for something to do. I now officially have proof that someone has been here! It was one of my friends. Apparently this page really is getting long, because my friend said something to that effect. Maybe. Anyway, moving on! I'm just basically typing nothing. Just like all those reports people have to do. You know? With a specific number of words. They start out with half that number, and then just fill in words until they have the right amount. I salute those people. You're great tradition is being carried out here, on the second most pointless site ever! Well. Maybe eventually some weird, bored person will wander onto my site on accident and be mildly entertained be my site until they wander onto a live video feed of a coffee maker. Or maybe not. I only know that I'm entertaining me, which was my original goal. So. I've done what I've set out to accomplish. Yea, me! I'm so special. You see, most people, they don't like reading or writing. So if you're not most people, you've made it down this far without skipping, skimming or getting the spark notes version. (Which I think does not exist) My point is, if you've bothered to read this, then, (like me) you probley have also read the ketchup bottle so many times that you have it down verbatim. Look verbatim up. It's a word. But, you should know that, since you like reading. Or maybe you're just skimming. Anyway, there's nothing wrong with reading food labels. You might be asked a question about them on a quiz show. And now, for the million-dollar question: How many calories are there in a single serving of Mustard? I can just see it now...It could be called Know-Your-Food. Or You are What you Eat. It'd probley be as popular as those game shows that no one's ever heard of. Speaking of food, what's up with pie? There's strawberry pie, apple, pumpkin and so many others, but there is no grape pie! I know. I'm just as upset about this unfortunate lack of development in the pie division. Think about it. Grapes are used to make jelly, jam, juice and raisins. What makes them undesirable for pie? Would they dry into raisins? Couldn't you just stick some jelly in a piecrust and bake it? It just doesn't make any sense. Another thing that bothers me is ***** grinders. You know, the foreign guys with the bellhop hats and the little music thingy and the cute little monkey with the bellhop hat who collects the money? Okay. They're basically begging on the street. How did they ever afford an *****-thingy? Wouldn't it make more sense to get a kazoo, if you're broke? And if they're so poor, what possessed them to buy a monkey? I mean, I don't think I could afford a monkey, and I'm not exactly on the streets. Obviously I at least have a computer...so, back to the ***** grinders. I would have sold the monkey and the ***** and been able to eat for at least a year. Or, if I was weirder than I am, I could at least **** the monkey with the ***** and eat it. Why on earth did they keep the monkey? It must have cost a fortune to feed...not to mention the mess. That's just one of those many facts of life that are better left mysteries. Especially since no one but me would ask the question. I better go. I think I hear a monkey...Okay...now I'm back. That's the sixth time I've said back! I realize that this longest text ever must be very boring and not worth anyone's time. But I'd like to take this time to thank the 2 and 1/2 people in the entire universe who have bothered to read this entire thing. I'm not exactly sure who they are, but: thanks! Right now, my spacebar is malfunctioning...that's not good...I have to press it two or three times just to insert a freaking space. Maybe the evil little faeries with the sharp little teeth have put their evil faerie dust on my computer. Or maybe not. This is too frustrating. Goodbye for now...Now I'm back. And still frustrated. But for a different reason. Today I had the misfortune of playing a Treasure Planet game on neopets.com It was terrible. Apparently the point of the game was to get your character to shout "Whoo-Hoo!" as many times as possible before you splattered your brains on the rocks, all the while listening to a soundtrack that is similar to a dying ceiling fan. Of course, when I started out I accidentally hit the rocks approximately three million times. Halfway though I used my four remaining brain-cells to decide that the game was dumb. So my goal changed from surviving to laughing evilly while my character died. So the game naturally did everything it could to preserve my life. The stupid game is still going on and I refuse to quit because I want my points. My character is actually dodging the stupid rocks better now then when I controlled him. I hate irony. Seeya. Okay. Now I'm back again. Today I added an update page, which is basically a less chaotic, outlined version of this without all the ranting. It's more like techno talk about arrays and how much I **** and whether or not the Braves will win this year. Okay, the whole braves thing is made up. But everything else I've said so far is true. I think. Maybe I should start on a boring disclaimer...Eh-hem. All contents of this site were designed for entertainment purposes only. Any use thereof that is not stated in the above mentioned statement would make the author, hereby referred to as Patron Saint of Paper Clips, very angry. Should you violate the purpose of this site: i.e. become not entertained, the Patron Saint of Paper Clips will be forced to take drastic measures. This is specified in Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook. Ooooo…that’s a great idea! I’m gonna start quoting from the Flaming Chicken Handbook! Code: 343 of the Flaming Chicken Handbook states that the Patron Saint of Paper Clips (that’s me) is allowed to cause vague, pain like sensations while the offending person (or alien life form, dog, etc.) isn’t paying attention. Now I have a purpose in life! To make up quotes from the non-existent Flaming Chicken Handbook, which I’m sure you have a copy of. No? Too bad. It’s in the mail, I promise! Now I must take my leave…and remember. Cheese is watching. Okay...I'm back...I think that eventually half of this thing will consist of the word back over and over again...that's just weird. Which fits the motif of the rest of the site. There's even a money back guarantee. Isn’t' that nice? See? Now no one can ever say that I don't take care of my viewers. Especially since I don't have viewers. I have readers. Wait...I really don't even know if anyone bothers to read this. Even if I put it in a less chaotic, more user-friendly format people would still ignore this because it involves: reading. Yes. Sad to admit, but the majority of people would rather read the summary at the back of a book rather than the whole book itself. What has the world come to? It's pathetic. Especially since I'm bothering to write all this. It's not fair! Why can't I have more readers?! All the other internet writers have nothing on me, except they're better at advertising, having a central theme/plot and basically more talented. Whereas I'm more into the whole ranting and raving stage right now. Plus, I am horrible at spelling. Which is bad. Thank the powers that be for spell-check. The single greatest invention of the computer gods. I'm getting bored, so I think I'm done for the day. May your day be shiney! I'm back again! And I feel weird! I found at that yet another one of my friends is reading this. Creepy. Just how much time do they have on their hands. Perhaps their just trying to be nice. I can just see it now...an organization devoted not to feeding the hungry, or peace, or love or whatever, but to giving recognition to all those poor, pathetic, unpopular websites. I wonder what it's name would be. Don't Ignore Sites? Would it be called DIS? Isn't that like a slang term for an insult? Would that be considered poetic justice, or just a nice coincidence? And why do I even care? I'll tell you why. Because I have nothing else to do right now. I could be playing neopets, but ever since my bad experience with Treasure Planet, I don't feel like it. Oh, by the way, I noticed that whenever I use spell-check, my stupid computer turns the word probley into to word problem. To prevent this, I did nothing. So, it is now up to you, the imaginary reader, to decide whether I mean probley or problem...it's almost like a game! But without the bad sound track. And I promise not to force you to live when you would rather die. Moving on, I have nothing else to say, but don't feel like quitting just yet. I'm like the little engine that could. Or maybe the Energizer Bunny. I just keep going, and going and going. Or I could be like that annoying guy on T.V. who keeps asking if you can hear him. If my site manages to last a decade, my readers snicker will probley wonder what I'm talking about. My answer is simple. It doesn't matter. I'm just rambling. Which means that it doesn't matter if you understand anything I say. Doesn't that make you feel better? I bet it does. Wow. Look how long this has gotten. I even impress myself. Who would have thought I have this much free time? And I congratulate any reader who has gotten this far. Ooooooo! You must check out the fortunes section of the random stuff page! I've just gotten an idea for some more, original, fortunes...I gotta go!(may the moose be with you) And now I am back. I swear. If iI fill out the fake tab form I'm gonna have to put back as my favorite word...I already have filled it out, though. Would it be cheating to fill it out again? Only if I had multiple personalities. Or would it be cheating if I didn't have multiple personalities? The world may never know. Just like how many licks it takes to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop. Would it vary? The number of licks, I mean. Someone could have super-disolving spit, or watery-spit. Or what if you took big ol' slobbery licks? Does the commercial take that into account? No. It doesn't. And let me tell you, it's an outrage. It deludes all of American's sweet, innocent, candy-loving children into thinking that a cartoon owl is smarter than they are! "Mr. Owl, can you tell us how many licks does it take to get to the bottom of a tootsie pop?" Or whatever. And "Mr. Owl" replies "One...Twoo...Three! Chomp" And he bites it. That teaches our youth that it's okay to agree to help someone, and then ruin their experiment. Well...it's not. I am going to start a protest group. Teens Against Cartoon Owls. We could call ourselves TACO! I love the little tacos, I love them good! That is a direct quote from GIR, co-star and comic-relief on INVADER ZIM. Hmmmm.
FlipThePoet Jan 2019
It's weird
I never like it
never understand it
why would they have it?
it's weird
it's long, in fact too long!
it looks uncomfortable
it looks heavy.
it's weird
and expensive
no lasting value,
like a day it shortens
and slowly fades.
it's weird
but does have some
sort of elegances to it.
A fashion statement I guess.
It use to be weird
Acrylic nails.
I can't fully relate to it
but I'm beginning to see its beauty
now, it's weird that it's not weird anymore
it's weird, but this was how I thought about acrylic nails never liked it but slowly it began to grow on me. So, in this poem, I tried to slowly regress from not liking acrylic nail to somewhat beginning to see its beauty. I tried!
Lauren Dorothy Mar 2013
I can't help but take offense
when someone calls me weird.
The word is not what I mind.
But the way the person says it,
Like an insult.
Weird.
Weird means I'm not the same
I'm not like the others, that I'm unique.
Weird means I don't wear the same mask everyone else does to fit in.
Weird means I'm unlike anyone you've ever met.
How can an attribute this remarkable
Sound so different when you use it in a sentence?
so sick of hearing this word as an insult. It's a compliment!!

Property of L.D. 3/22/13
Drag isn't weird if you know and understand what it is on all levels.
Is it dressing like a man or vice versa? Yes.
But that's only part of what drag is and what it means to people.
First, there are many forms of drag used by people around the world.
There are men who dress in drag as women.
There are women who dress as men.
Then there are Bio Queens or Faux Queens.
Which are drag queens who are performing as their biological gender.
Like when a women puts on drag make-up and looks like a girl.
That's because she is a girl.
She'd just doing a different form of drag because she likes doing drag.
By the way, drag queens are people who dress in drag.
This can be done for fun, as a career choice, and for both reasons.
Some people just dress in drag because they like to.
Others do it because they like making people laugh and have fun.
It's acting because you are becoming someone else when in drag.
It's a full body commitment that takes more than a minute to do.
Someone once said that they thought it was weird to see it on TV.
And I can say that weird was my first impression to when I saw it.
But then I started to get into someone (who will remain nameless unless you want me to reveal them. Which I will when you want me to.)
Who got me to see that drag really was a form of art and not silly.
Drag is a serious and comedic  part of the industry that's noticed.
Shows done at Cabaret's and at ( dare I say it) gay bars.
Yes, it's very common that people who like the same *** do drag.
But let me remind you that plenty of straight people do drag.
But there is a misconception that drag is putting on a wig.
And that is far from the truth because it takes a lot of work.
You're constantly experimenting with make-up and outfits.
You have a collection of wigs that you were daily.
And if you are a drag queen professionally, then you work.
And by that, I mean that you work long days in drag.
By the way, when you are in drag you are covering a lot.
You need to wear a bodysuit that fits the gender and uh.
You also need to do something so your, well, you know.
Friend can't be seen, if you aren't a girl that is.
And you need to pin back your hair so the wig stays.
Which people say is very tight so you need to get used to it.
But believe me when I say that drag isn't weird.
It's a form of expression that tends to help people.
Many performers use drag as a escape coat, you know?
A way to get away from pressure and open up more.
It helps them be who they wanna be and say whatever.
When you're in drag playing a character, it's fun.
Because you can say what you want without worrying.
Because it was said by your drag persona, not you.
So when you see drag on TV and don't get it.
Look it up online and do some research before you judge.
Don't say that it's weird and it's not normal.
Because that's an insult to all the people who do drag.
Drag is a community where there are many people.
Thousands of people believe in drag and do drag.
People are in drag right now going to another city.
Going somewhere because they have a performance.
Where they make you laugh and forget for 2 hours.
You can find humor if you don't let it bug you.
Not all of them are innocent in terms of manner.
Some have a very explicit way of thinking & speech.
But that's their style and how they like to be in drag.
Give it a chance before thinking that it's nuts.
Look into some people and see how they really are.
Look up interviews of people out of drag.
Because they tell you how the character was made.
And then you find out that they are normal people.
They just act for a living as sometimes the other gender.
I needed to make this because I feel strongly about this. I've felt this way since November a year ago in 2013. I'm saying a year because November 2013 till November 2014 is a whole year in that aspect. Anyway, that's how I feel about drag. Tell me if you want me to write more and I will. If you enjoyed this I hope you'll want me to write more. Thanks for reading, bye!
Darnell Jan 2015
I'm weird I'm weird and I get it
Living on a narrow road not to be timid without the tips on my own route without giving a ****
I'm weird I'm weird and I get mindfully free of flaws not to be timid, been being so caring trying not to be livid, but my minds been opened to the chaos we try not to see but we live with all the fullery and fuckery they giveth
I'm weird I'm weird and I get it
But who are you to tell me to get with it being of the being living where they kick it wanting of the norm your part of what makes me livid an where l get timid tangled in web with the no hope to ditch it
D.J. Turner
Mr E Jan 2014
How weird it seems
So long ago
I feared that you would truly
Never ever know
That I-
Love-
You-
Though you didn't need me
I promised I would show you
A well remembered time
And it seemed to be
My turning key
For you to call me mine

How Weird it seems
So long ago
I remember you and my
First Christmas evening snow
Like it was yesterday
Together we--kept warm
Behind the fire I realized
What now I know
I just don't love you
You're much more than that
Simple words like Love
Could never handle fact

So weird it seems
As you stand so still
In front of alter
You truly always forever will
Be my purest joy
My, saving grace
Though they laughed
Hate could never chase
Our Love away

How Weird it seems
They'll never know
What it means
When your eyes sparkle
So long ago
The laughs we shared
The shouts that rang
The ups and downs
Which always sang
We were imperfect
But thats the most perfect
Thing we shared

So Weird it seems
So long ago
We were young and open-minded
Always going with the flow
But now we're here
With olden days
Walking through the same city
Every corner and every way
We'd walk before
But I can't be sad
In a world with you
For every day is always brighter
Every second so much sweeter
Every moment seems to be just like a dream
So weird it seems
Possible lyrics for a song? Just a draft
Sweet as Salt Apr 2011
who dares love the crazy
the strange, the weird?
everyone strives to be perfect
yet i dont, for this i am "weird"
and nobody loves me
no one ever has
because they dont dare love
the crazy or the strange even
the weird, but thats all in their
heads, why? because they are
scared to be seen that way,
i dont understand that...
they all say be yourself but
once you do they push you to
the weird category whether you
like it or not, well we all have to label
ourselves somehow, if we dont
others will, its just a matter of time..
and if anyone dares say they love the weird
then i have a question
how come im still sitting here?
alone and unloved by everyone
who speaks to me, let alone sees me?
i know its just a claim and no one
will ever be able to love the strange
Wyatt May 2018
There’s a weird little boy
on the corner of the street.
Give ‘em hell, give ‘em hell
‘cause he’s not like me.
Now that weird little boy
got an act for the screen.
Egg him on, egg him on,
you better throw him a treat.
Strike a pose, do a dance.
Pull the strings that you can
while they’re stuck in a trance.
Play the cards in your hands.

You put your money on the line
‘cause a baller never falls in line,
but they played you again
like a **** fiddle,
you never saw the signs.
Pop a pill of happiness,
manufacture a smile for tomorrow.
The tragedy of today
is that you never face your sorrows.

That weird little boy
is now depressed
because in his house
it’s all fake, he ain’t a man
and outside he’s gotta
pretend that he can.
Paint a new personality
so they can understand
because nobody will relate
to the real one that you hate.
That weird little boy wasn’t liked
because he didn’t enjoy
getting higher than a kite.
Isolation of soul and mind,
he didn’t feel home in
his skin anymore, but that’s alright.

The world spins again tonight.
Change the channel,
catch your feature.
Go to school,
hate your teacher.
Find a scene
or make a scene
when the joke’s
turned around on you.
Party on, party on
but the buzz doesn’t last long.
The weird boy wants to dance,
now isn’t that wrong?
You ain’t one of us.
I drew a line in the air,
you can stay over there
and stay outta my hair.
Isn’t that fair?

Life is a lot like
a game of sticks.
Sometimes you win
and sometimes you get tricked.
She laughed and popped in
some bubblegum
and blew a bubble
meanwhile weird boy
is stuck in a bubble.
Pop it and take a long fall
or don’t and never live at all.
Take a photo to commemorate
living life at your current rate.
Smile like cheese
or frown like death,
we’re supposed to be like fiends
or stay stuck in our heads.
Pop culture is never leaving
and the trends we set
give today a new meaning.
If there’s anything
that I’ve learned as an observer
is that there’s always gonna be
an unfortunate little boy in a
plot someone’s scheming.
The **** of a joke
or someone who’s
internally screaming.
Dorothy A Oct 2013
Everything faded to black. He had a hard time remembering just what the hell happened. He wasn't sure of downing some random pills from of the medicine cabinet-- his first attempt to end it all. Making sure he would not recover-- if the pills didn't do the job-- he had already devised the set up of the noose in his bedroom. Definitely, he didn't recall anyone cutting the rope, forcing him down to the floor.

Lacie joked with him. "Dude, you've got nine lives! You must really be a ****, fricking cat in disguise! That's why you'll eat those nasty tuna fish sandwiches they serve in the nuthouse! "

Chris grinned at her.  He had to agree. To refer to it as the psych ward at the hospital made it seem like more of a jail term, but calling it "the nuthouse" lightened up the severity of the situation. As grave and nearly tragic as everything  had become, it was kind of laughable to him.  He supposed he had more chances than a cat's fabled life. It all seemed so crazy that it must be funny.

Well, what could he say? He had flirted with death, but unwillingly managed to escape its grip. "Pathetic..."--he commented. "I don't not even know how to die well..."

Chris  eventually realized that he had been rushed to the hospital, but wished it wasn't true. Since then, everything was either a total blur or a bizarre state of mind . Even waking up in his room was like a remotely vague memory, almost like a long ago dream that might not really have happened.

Maybe, he was somewhat aware that his sister was screaming in shock and horror at the sight of him, shouting out downstairs to her boyfriend to help her. But the walls were turning red, a glowing scarlet- red, with an added fiery orange and yellowish-gold-- all joined together in pulsating embers. He was quickly losing consciousness. It was like some, bad acid trip. Not that Chris knew this firsthand, but it sure was like something he saw on TV or at the movies.

And now he was the star of the horror show.

Did he die?  Death was what he planned on, so waking up was not a relief, or a reality back into motion--just the opposite. It was as if being awake was the real nightmare, a delusional time when everything was not true, and was only an scary, offbeat version of the life of Chris Cartier.

The bad acid trip continued. He recalled hospital staff rushing about him, seeming like real people-- sort of. Then they morphed into fish in scrubs. From overhead, an IV was dripping into his arm. Tubes were shoved down his throat. His vital signs were displayed on a screen that made beeps and sounds, increasing the chaos and adding to the mayhem to his mind. Soon, the vital signs machine started talking to him that he was a "very bad boy" and other such scoldings.

He was thoroughly freaked out. If he was still alive, he'd rather be dead.

He wanted to run. One of the fish pushed him back down and muttered out undecipherable utterances-- like underwater gibberish . Then that fish used its slimy fins to inject him with a needle in his arm. The other fish circled around him like fish out of water--with opening and closing mouths-- as if gasping for air.

As they surrounded him as rubber monkeys shot out from the walls and bounced all over the room. On top of all this madness, the florescent lights above were flickering on and off, in sync to the wild music, like the drum beats of a distant jungle. It was one bizarre tangle of events, a freaky, crazy, out-of-control ride in which reality could not be distinguished from the animation and mass confusion. It was one overpowering ride that he would much rather forget.

When Chris got out of critical condition, he found out that he could still not go home. That would take a few weeks more. Dr. What-The-Hell's-His-Name assured him that he needed to start on the path to his psychological healing--just as grave as the physical--right here in a safe place.

It didn't seem so safe to him.

The enemy wasn't what was out there in the world, but the big, bad wolf was actually him. He had to be protected from the true culprit--himself-- and that was a mind-blowing concept. Just what did he get himself into?   

He never had been a patient in a hospital before. In all his twenty-six years, he didn't so much as even have his tonsils out. Feeling now like a prisoner,, he was still scared out of his mind-- as if it was day one all over again. When was he going to get out of here? Chris began to fear that they would never let him out. No professional had a definitive answer, as only time would tell of his improvement.

Man, why couldn't he just be dead?

His parents visited almost everyday, but it was of no reassurance to him. His mother always left in tears, and his father was lost for words. This was nothing new. When it concerned their troubled son, they felt inadequate to help him. The best his dad could say was, "Hey, Chris, we're pullin' for ya". That was of no comfort, whatsoever, like he was some fighter in a boxing ring that his old man had a bet placed on . His mom always clung to him as she said goodbye, like she needed the hug more than he did, saying to Chris through her sobs , "Miss you....love you". Her emotional state just unsettled him to the core, and he was worried for her more than for himself.    

At best, his outlook was grim. But then he met Lacie Weiss, and things started looking up.

Lacie was one of the quietest psych patients in the ward, always sticking to herself. But then he found himself sitting right next to her in group therapy, and they hit it off. He had no idea that she had a fun side. She usually looked apathetic and quietly defiant to society, a nonconformist in the form of a Goth, with edgy, dyed black hair, dark eye make-up and some ****** piercings of the eyebrow, tongue and nose. Her look was quite in contrast to his light blue eyes and sandy-brown hair. Chris never was into Gothic, viewing those who were as spooky creeps.  

It was obvious that Chris was scared and confused. Now although trying to seem tough and stoic, Lacie seemed so little, almost fragile, yet obviously trying to hide her broken self together. Petite and somewhat girlish in appearance, she was barely 5 feet tall. Chris was 5 feet 11 and a half inches, close enough to the six foot stature that he wanted to be. Only a half inch less really didn't cut it for him, though, even though his slim build gave the impression of a lankier guy. He would have loved to be as tall as the basketball players he so emulated. But such was life. He was never used to having the advantages.  

At first, Lacie never opened up, not to a single soul. Like Chris, she certainly acted like she didn't need this place, and nobody was going to help her--or be allowed to help her. As stony and impenetrable as she tried to be, group therapy it was hard to disappear in. Everyone was held accountable for opening up, and the leader was going to see to it.  No way, though, did Lacie want to crack or look weak in her turtle shell composure, in her self-preservation mode. So it was agony for her.

She first spoke to him, whispering loudly to him, onc,e in the group circle "This is all *******!"

Hanging with Chris was the one salvation that she had in this miserable experience. They both could relate more than he ever realized. They both really liked motorcycles and basketball. He had his own Harley, and it was something he loved to work on and go on long rides with it, his own brand of therapy.  In spite of how she looked, Lacie was also actually close to his age. He was twenty-six. and she was twenty-two.

They first broke the ice with casual introductions. "No, the name is not pronounced like Carter", he corrected her about his last name. "It is like Cart-EE-AY...... It's French".

"Yep", she replied. "Like mine is the same way, but as German as brats and sauerkraut,  Ja dummkopf?"

Chris gave her a weird look. She continued, "My mom's dad was from Germany, and I got my mom's name. Ya don't say it how it looks. You would say Weiss like Vice, but I couldn't give a **** how anybody says it. Nobody gets it right and original, anyhow." Her dark brown eyes flashed at him as she said, " But I think I like Chris Cutie, myself, better than Cartier.....cutie it is for me. Huh, cutie pie? "

Chris laughed hard. She was pretty coy for a die-hard Goth. She batted her eyes playfully at him and winked."You're worth being in here for, ya know", he told her, blushing, still laughing at her silly remarks.

She studied his face in response, all laughing aside. Suddenly, her mood turned solemn.  "I'll bet".

They began hanging out in the commons, walking down the halls for exercise, and swapping stories of their plights. Chris quickly found that she Lacie wasn't so steely and unapproachable as the day he first saw her.  And she discovered that he was more than a pretty boy.

"My parents weren't home when I tried", he told her one time after lunch was done. They were sitting in a corner, trying to be as private as possible. "Twenty-six years old...and I still live with them. Yeah, that's my life. I got a twin brother, and he's moved out and doing alright for himself. My sister's younger, is going to college. Wants to be a doctor".

Lacy didn't have any siblings to compare herself to. "Must be cool to have a twin", Lacie said. "I always wondered how that would be to have two of me running around! Scary, huh, dude?"

Chris shook his head. "No, it's nothing like that. Jake and I aren't identical. We are just a two-for-one deal...I mean  is that my parents got two babies in one, huge-*** pregnancy. Jake and me don't even act like twins. Half the time, I don't want to be around him."

No, it wasn't like his cousins, Adam and Alan, who were identical friends, mirror images, and best of friends. Chris never identified with that kind of brotherly relationship. He and Jake never dressed alike, or knew what the other one was thinking. And Chris felt that his brother always felt superior to him. He was the popular one. He was the ambitious one who landed a great job in computers, as a system analyst.  To add to Chris's feelings of inferiority, his little sister, Kate, had surpassed him, too. She was acing most of her classes, and boarding away at college. She was well on her way to becoming a doctor.    

"So if your mom and dad weren't around...who saved you?" Lacie asked. She stared into his eyes with such a probing stare that Chris almost clammed up. Just thinking about that day was overpowering.

"Uh...my sister and her boyfriend were hanging out in the basement. She was home from college, and I didn't know it. My parents were out-of-town. Our dog, Buster, was acting funny. He knew something was up..."

Chris stopped abruptly, but went on. "Kate, my sister, explained to me that she saw me in my room, getting up on a step ladder. She says she yelled at me to stop. I don't remember...but I guess..I guess I was going to do it anyway, and she wouldn't be able to stop me....stop me from...so I hurried up and jumped off before she could stop me."  

Lacie could almost picture it, as if she was there with him. She said, "But she did stop it. She saved you."

"Yeah", he agreed. "Buster started it all...barking, alerting my sister to come upstairs from the basement, and upstairs by my room...." All of a sudden, he felt so weird, like he was having an out-of-body experience.

"Hey, it's OK", Lacie reassured him. "It's over now. You aren't there anymore".

Chris started to cry, but tried not to. "If it weren't for Brian, Kate's boyfriend....she would not of had the strength to hold me up by herself, and cut the rope, too. I must have been like dead weight, and Brian grabbed a kitchen knife and told her to stay cool about it. Yeah, sure, like that could have been possible ! She was trying to keep the rope slack, while trying to save my sorry ****...and she was scared, shitless! "

Lacie opened up, too, relating her tragic past. She had an unbelievable tale, one hell of a ride herself.  It was amazing how detached she was when relating it, though. "Well" actually I got to fess up" "I'm not really an only child....I mean I am...but not really. I know that sounds weird---hey--but I am weird. Oddly unusual is the story of my life-- even before day one. "

Chris had no idea what she was talking about. "What are ya' trying to say?"

She added another surprising bombshell. "Also,  I have a two-year-old boy. His name is Danny. He don't see his dad--ever. The guy's a waste of space. Anyway, my mom has him. She can afford him more, and can do a better job raising him than me. Well, she does OK money-wise. Anyhow, my mom deserves him because she lost everything. And I mean EVERYTHING! Her whole fricking family practically wiped out!"

The shock that Chris had on his face-- his widened, blue eyes and open mouth were expected.   Most people had a hard time believing her.

She explained, calmly, "I mean she nearly died--way before I was born--in a car accident. And her two, little boys were with her in the backseat...and they died that day. "

Chris looked pale. "That is so awful!" he said, hoarsely, barely able to say it.

"Yeah", she continued. "Not a **** thing she could do about it, too. She was like in a million pieces. I know a part of her died right there and then, too. I just know it.  You know, dude, my mom was once really, really coasting along, just doing fine. A typical wife and mother-- a bit older than me now-- life was good. Her little boys were just cute, little toddlers--like Danny. I found out from my grandma that she was  pregnant, too, just a month or two. Nobody could have imagined it coming. She was just driving--doing nothing wrong-- when some idiot broadsided her.  I don't know if it was a guy or a lady, if they were jacked up on ***** or drugs, but they were speeding like a demon out of Hell. Her husband was at work and wasn't around."  

The boys were Benjamin and Gerard, but Lacie couldn't remember their names, for her mom could barely mention them without breaking down. It was an unbearable loss.

Chris was so horrified, amazed that Lacie related this like it was someone else's story. She was almost too cavalier about it.

"And they died ?!" he asked.

"Yeah....*****, don't it? Pure, pure agony. Downright Hell on earth. My mom had to learn to walk again. It took about year, I think."

"Oh, no! What about the baby she was supposed to have?"

"Miscarriage. Worse yet, the **** doctor told her she'd never be able to have kids again. She lost everything, man! Her husband couldn't handle it and left her. **** on top of ****, on top of more ****, on top of more. If it wasn't for her parents, and her sister's help, she would never have made it.

"But she had given birth to you, right? Or were you adopted?"

"Yeah, she gave birth to me. I was her miracle baby, and she didn't give a rat's rear end if my dad wanted me or not. He'd send her money, once in a while, but he wasn't really into either of us. Who cares though? She didn't give a **** what he thought. I was her baby. Truth is, before I came, she ended up slitting her wrists--just like me. What was the use? At first, there was nothing to live for. But now she has Danny.

"And you!" Chris quickly pointed out.

"Dude, are you kidding me? I have been NOTHING but grief for her, a real pain in her ***!"

Unlike her deceased, half-brothers, Lacie grew up before her mother's eyes, from a shy girl to a ******* rebel. Since the age of twelve, she would sneak drinks from her mom's liqueur cabinet. Eventually, she smoked *** and tried ******* and ******. Dropping out of the eleventh grade, she soon away from home, living with friends or boyfriends ever since.  Thankfully, she wasn't doing drugs when she conceived Danny. And her drinking wasn't as prevalent as it was in her teen years of partying and binge drinking. That didn't mean that her drinking problems magically disappeared, or that she was cured. Immediately, though, when she knew she was pregnant, she refused to touch a bottle, but it was just a white knuckle process that was effective momentarily--a band aid on a more serious wound. And going months without a drop of alcohol didn't deaden her urges--quite the opposite--as it only made her crave what she could not have. Often, her fears caught up with her--of especially becoming
meg Mar 2014
it's weird that Brits say "chips" instead of "french fries",
and it's sad that your dad says "you're hopeless" instead of "I love you".
it's weird that the sun pokes up out of the ground at different times everyday,
and it's sad that it hurts more when you poke your finger than when you run the blade down your skin.
it's weird that the sun still shines when it's 3 degrees outside,
and it's sad that 3 am is filled with thoughts of agony and your pillow is stained with the salt water from your eyes.
it's weird that there's 365 days in a year but it dreads on feeling like 1,000,
and it's sad that the pills that are supposed to make you feel better for your depression only make you want to swallow 365 more to make the pain go away.
it's weird that you're forced to go to school with ignorant teenagers that have no idea what they want in life besides getting high,
and it's sad that those teenagers romanticize self harm and depression like it's beautiful to have demons in your mind eating away your sanity.
enjoy.
SkylarEdwardsLOL Sep 2012
There's nothing wrong with being weird(:
I'm weird(x
You're weird$x
And I know my mom's weirdXD
So be yourself because I love you!
hlakaniphile Jan 2015
When I walk in the street I feel like I always have to hold my breath as I pass people.
When I'm in a crowded place I litrally freak out because I always feel like around people something bad happens to me.
Am I weird ??
I look at people sometimes and I'm like how the hell do they get it to always be this happy.
I look at relationships sometimes and I'm like how the **** can u be so inlove with someone and get along.
I look at friends and I'm like they trust each other??
Am I weird?
I sometimes stare at the mirror and then start to cry when I think.
I want something so bad but when its here I don't want it anymore.
Am I weird ?
I'm scared to get attached to someone.
Am I weird?
I don't really think I'm weird or anything I just think I have been dissapointed too much...
#hurt #weirdness #dissapointments
#people
I feel wired.
I mean weird.
Wired and weird.  Rearranging the letters is making me dizzy.
My eyes don’t want to focus.  So they don’t.
I let my pupils dilate, relax and unfurl.
Images blur. I struggle to make out the words I type in front of me.
Can’t tell if they’re sensible, can’t figure out if I care.
Maybe I’m tired.
I might be tired, but I’m not sure.
Thought I was before, so I snorted another pill.  And another. And another.
And maybe I felt better but I can’t really remember.
Now I’m not sure if I ever was tired.  Don’t know what I am.
I feel disoriented.  Confused.  Just somehow not right.
I can’t grasp the words I need to describe it.
I just feel weird.
I mean wired.
Wait, which was it again? Can’t remember, not sure.
My head feels like thick mud, or quicksand. Or something.
Or maybe it doesn’t, I’m dizzy again.
What was I saying? Right. Wired and weird.
Will I ever feel normal again?
Shelby Easley Mar 2010
i think you're really weird.
you freak.
you food network geek.
and your worn out converse.
with the ribbon tied.
to the left side of course.
that's the crip side.
you're a "hipster".
you're "scene".
more like obscene.
purple skinny jeans.
black ones too.
blue, dark and light.
average height.
you prefer the night.
but you're afraid of the dark.
your bite is much worse than your bark.
always have a smart *** remark.
your heart is black and cold.
you're a ***** and it's getting old.
and sometimes your eyes twitch.
your thighs are big, waist is small.
therefore your pants fall, constantly.

i think you're really weird.
you're so strange.
deranged? that too.
you shoot imaginary guns.
you are tons of crazy.
lazy, messy, creepy.
always sleepy, always awake.
you bake, you daydream, you imagine.
ways to create, new things to try.
you're still fly, since 1991.
second to none, last to many.
give away pennies, you don't like change.
you exchange smiles with strangers.
dress with style, walk with swag.
peculiar in every way.
your favorite skies are gray.
cries too much, tries too hard.
your underarm is scarred.
uncanny charm, mismatched socks.
outside the box.
wide-eyed and innocent.
well, to an extent.
you love british accents.
skittish and laid back.
crack a joke from time to time.
you're sublime, sometimes.
you climb molehill sized mountains.
you fulfill wishes and crush dreams.

i think you're really weird.
crooked fingers, straight smile.
singing all the while.
you'll swing when you get the chance.
dance in front of the mirror.
you see things clearer now.
you wish you had wings.
or to swim with the fishes.
on the brim of insanity.
live on a whim, think too much.
such a tragedy with a happy ending.
bending the rules.
love is for fools, not you of course.
chew with your mouth closed please.
always lose your keys.
bruise easily.
it's hard for you to choose.
you're a bard, look it up.
cup half empty, glass half full.
pull the wool over their eyes.
in disguise, a mustache will do.
few understand, many just nod.
odd, pinky promise until death.
morning breath all day long.
these are the lyrics to your song.
you seize their hearts in one fatal swoop.
then drop and shatter them.
mindless chatter, intelligent conversations.
deprived of any patience.
plenty of empathy though.
don't know which way to go.
imperfectly perfect, born to stray.

i think i'm really weird.
and i wouldn't have it any other way.
this is me, in poem form.
Glittery Puke Dec 2013
it's weird how we chace after things
that we want the most
and forget about what we leave behind

it's weird how we care about someone so much
when they don't even know about us
or worse, don't care

it's weird how we can go mad in seconds
say things that we never wanted to say
and can hurt someone's feelings

it's just weird for most of the people
to admit that i love someone so much
that i hardly know - and miss them a lot

they say:

"you're in love with the boy you've created from your mind"
it might be true though but believe me it's just you
that i'm truly in love with

and i though that you could notice me
and maybe one day "love me"
i've just dreamed the whole time

it's weird how i can't cope up with these feelings
anymore
when i struggled for two years


"for someone i guess i don't even really know"
vivianne Nov 2015
is it weird that i still think about you
is it strange that your car is the scariest place i've ever been
but the only place i want to be right now
are you a real person
are you a figure of my imagination
is it weird that i feel close to you
but we never speak
not like we used to
not anymore
is that weird
freaking out, like always, also follow me on Instagram: @/vivianneflora

— The End —