Rapunzel. Narfi style.

The sun's heat was beating down on the tall tower, where a young girl was sitting. The young girl was cleaning, trying to keep her dirty blonde hair out of the way. And failing. She had never cleaned her hair, not once. So it was greasy, long, dirty hair. That reached out of the tower and to the ground. This girl happened to be called Rapunzel.

Oh, and she had dead bodies in her hair, was that mentioned? Rapunzel had been stolen from her parents in their Kingdom by a jealous witch who raised her as a servant. The Witch would come every day to see how Rapunzel was and give her some food, but not too much, she didn't want her to be fat. Rapunzel was cleaning because it was only a few hours before The Witch came. Meaning Rapunzel had to make everything spotless in time for her arrival.

Rapunzel was a pretty woman, and had many suitors. Most of them tried to free her by climbing up her hair, they tripped and snapped their necks, getting tangled in her long locks. The Witch would make Rapunzel work even harder when she saw a new addition to the growing amount of dead bodies in her hair.

"Rapunzel! Oi, Rapunzel!"
Rapunzel ignored the voice and carried on cleaning. Eventually, she felt a tugging on her hair and rushed to the window, her current suitor was climbing up her hair.
"What are you doing?" She hissed, her face twisted into a scowl.
"Trying to free you!"
Rapunzel rolled her dark eyes, glaring down at the man. "Get OFF!"
"You want to be free, don't you?!"
" . . . Well, yes. But you're only going to-"
"Then at least let me try!"
The determined look in her eyes made Rapunzel hesitate, maybe he would succeed? Maybe she would be freed? The sudden hope that flared in her refused to be quenched and she smiled down at the Suitor. "Okay then."

Of course, it didn't take long for him to snap his neck. Rapunzel tried to shake him out of her hair but he only got tangled. She wasn't too panicked until she heard; "Rapunzeeel!" Called out in a sing-song voice. She looked around at the messy tower and looked down to the ground. Maybe she could escape? She looped her hair around the bed and lumped out the window, keeping a firm hold on her hair. Her head stung as the hair pulled in the other direction. She almost reached the ground before she ran out of hair. So she hung, suspended, about halfway down the tower. She started to panic.

The Witch eventually appeared, looking out of the window from Rapunzel's bedroom, she looked up to see her and started crying.
"Rapunzel! You betrayed me, why?" The Witch sounded genuinely hurt, causing Rapunzel to cry more.
The Witch start cutting on Rapunzel's hair, causing her to panic. "No, no, no, no, no!"
"Haha! Yes!" She cackled as the last of Rapunzel's hair was caught, and she fell.

If this were a happy story, Rapunzel would have somehow Ninja'd out and saved herself. However, it's not, it's a Narfified story. And Narfi's a bitter girl. So Rapunzel fell to her bloody death and people found her mangled body, assumed it was a dead dog and poked it with a stick, then moved on.

AND THEY ALL LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER.

Narfi out.

The Princess and The Frog. Narfi style.

About a few hundred or so years ago, there was a princess. She was princess of some sort of land. She didn't really know, she wasn't one to pay attention. The Princess was a beautiful girl, with long, flowing, dark hair and bright green eyes. She had pale skin and curvy legs, a nice pear figure and pointed ears, she looked like a fairy from a distance. A very emo-like fairy. This Princess was called Dahlia and everyone loved her. But the problem with Princess Dahlia was that she was a moody b*tch.

Princess Dahlia was obsessed with herself and her looks. Like many stereotypical girls. The Princess often fussed over her hair, or how much she was eating, she was also anorexic, because she purged the majority of meals she had eaten. She was convinced that she was fat. Dahlia was always angry at someone and her face seemed in a permament scowl, if someone gave her the wrong coloured dress, she'd sentence them to death.

For the Princess' eighteenth birthday, her parents organised a large party. Dahlia didn't like this idea, it meant someone would screw up and give her the wrong present. They always did. So she decided to command everything at the party. And she came down the stairs into the ballroom wearing a tight teal dress, at least, it was meant to be tight. It looked two sizes too large. She walked with elegance down the stairs to people who were paid to clap and say she looked amazing. Which was true.

The whole party seemed rather pathetic, no one seemed to enjoy themselves. Princess Dahlia fumed silently at this while she went out onto the balcony.
"Hey," said a voice.
Dahlia looked around, expecting someone to be near her. Instead, sitting on the balcony next to her was a fat, ugly toad. Princess Dahlia recoiled slightly in disgust.
"Ew. Was that you who talked?"
The toad croaked, "No. It was the air. Yes, it was me, you dim b*tch."
Dahlia stepped away from the toad, tempted to squish it with her foot. "What do you want?"
The toad croaked again, hopping closer to her. "I am actually a prince, from another land. A witch turned me into a toad, and she said that in order for me to be human again; I need a kiss from a princess."
Dahlia raised an eyebrow and flicked the toad away from her, wiping her finger on her thigh. "Find another princess. I'm not kissing a toad."
"Just once?!"
"No," Dahlia said with an air of finality, but seeing the sadness in the toad, she felt a bout of pity and picked it up. "Just once."
She kissed the toad. It wasn't an enjoyable experience, the toad's skin was bumpy and horrible, and it was slimy from the water of the pond below. She placed the toad back down.
Nothing happened.

"What is this?" The Princess demanded when she saw that the toad had not changed into a prince. She felt betrayed. However, the toad seemed just as confused as she did. He hopped back.
"Are you not a princess? Why haven't I changed?!"
The Princess, disgusted with herself, ran up to her bedroom and hid under her bedcovers. Her horror refused to leave, she couldn't stop thinking of the kiss.
Eventually, she fell asleep.

In the night, she was visited by a witch, the exact witch who turned the prince into a frog. She looked upon The Princess. To punish her for not helping the frog; she decided to cover The Princess' face with warts and her skin became spotty and horrible, her cheeks became ruddy and her eyes bulged slightly out of her head. The Witch left feeling achieved.

The whole family in the palace woke to a terrified scream from Dahlia's room, The Princess was staring at herself in horror in the mirror. She was ugly! Tears streamed down her face, and her family couldn't look at her, couldn't talk to her. They were horrified that their daughter was suddenly horribly ugly. The commoners of the Kingdom spoke about her harshly. And she was teased by her sisters.

Eventually, this grew too much for the Princess, and she hunted the Frog down, begging he would help her. The Frog looked upon the Princess, and remembering her coldness towards him, refused her.
So the Princess ran off into a forest, and hid. She starved to death.
In the Kingdom, it was said she had become a monster in the woods, and killed mis-behaving children. This was to make the children behave.
But they never actually knew the truth of the Princess Dahlia. They never knew what had happened to her.
She was just forgotten.

I don't have a clue what to do.

I've noticed that this blog is just a load of random posts mingled together to make . . . A blog. A rubbish blog at that. So I've decided to do something and ask you what you think I should do with this blog.

So, what do you think I should do with this blog?

I guess I could rant about the everyday oddities of life, like those stupid self-serve machines in Tesco, that ALWAYS mess up! WHAT THE HELL IS UP WITH THEM? D8

Or maybe you could suggest what I do?
Maybe . . .
Hm . . .
What am I best at?

I enjoy writing, but how can I use that for my blog? I enjoy puzzles and riddles, challenges . . .
Oh dear.
Any help?

Lindsey Stirling. And Violins. Oh yes.

I guess it was about time I did this. A few of you may know that I deeply, deeply love string instruments. I love music without any lyrics.
No, that doesn't mean I like Dubstep. The heck is Dubstep anyway? I'll Wikipedia it. One second.
Oh . . . That's Dubstep . . . Okay then.
Anyway, this instrumental music is mainly classical or classic rock. Y'know, Beethoven, Tchiaskovsky . . . I really need to learn to spell his name, Hans Zimmer, Jesper Kyd . . . The usual.
It also means I like VSQ. God they are epic, I'm glad they were shown to me when I was ill, I could appreciate it more then. I just like listening to violins when ill. I like Lindsey Stirling too.
Hell yeah.

A friend of mine, Winter, mentioned Lindsey in one of his posts. I agree with him when he says that Lindsey is amazing. She is. When I first saw Lindsey, I didn't expect much. She's small and pixie-like, she doesn't look like someone who'd be amazing with this stuff.
I now laugh at how wrong I was. Ha.

Violins are sexy, too. If there was a name to rhyme with "sexy" that I could give a violin. I would. Alas, creative enough I be not. Anywho . . .


I'm going to go develop my novel now, maybe write a story for someone if they decide to demand it. Otherwise, an uneventful sick day I shalt have.
Narfi out.

Idols.

We all have idols, someone we look up to. They may not be real, they may just be  . . . In a sense, another form of ourselves. The "person" I look up to is pretty much myself. Or someone I accidentally created in a fit of self-loathing. I called that person Narfi. Narfi became developed, Narfi became a better version of me. My pen name became Narfi. This dominated me, took over.
Not that I was complaining.

Narfi was meant to be everything I wasn't. That didn't work out. Narfi ended up as a way for me to be who I truly was, for me to be able to show the world that I could be creative. There were loud voices? Narfi was a chance for me to scream louder. I never took that chance, nor do I intend to. But I guess I owe my mind a big "thank you" for allowing me to create a psuedonym that became much more than just a name. It became a whole personality. People began caring for "Narfi".

This isn't me saying that I'm envious of Narfi. That would be silly, Narfi and I both share the same skills, we are the same person. Yet Narfi was always more glamorous in my eyes. Whenever I doubted myself and my talents, Narfi (and numerous others whom I shan't name in respect of their anonymity) beat down that doubt and threw it to Kingdom Come.

So, now that I've told you a little bit of private information, I'm going to ask that for once you all interact with me. Even you who usually don't. After all, who would I be to judge? I'd like to ask you to tell me your idols. Who do you look up to when it seems there is no hope in yourself? Or who helps you overcome these trying times?

I'd like to tell you a little story, of when I was younger. I was a bit of a problem child. I had a foul mouth and used curses as terms of endearment, I was small for my age and skinny. Quite a bit of a difference to now, if I say so myself. When I was younger, I was actually quite pretty. I don't know what happened. I had bright icy blue eyes that always seemed to be fixed on you in a glare. I had a sharp pointy chin that I liked rubbing mysteriously to seem evil. It didn't work . . . I wore quite tomboy clothes, combat shorts, a hoodie and trainers. Long brown/ginger hair and pointy ears. I had pointy teeth, too. A pearly white. I was very stubborn, and a moody brat most of the time. I would happily beat someone to a bloody pulp with a spoon if given the chance. I always got into accidents and would be rushed into the hospital. Oops. Another accident.

Now, on with the story. Once, I was feeling quite lonely, this was on my birthday. Mum had gotten angry at me again and slapped me, sending me up to my room. She had taken our belongings out the previous week because our room was a mess and she hated that, she was always pulling on her hair and having a panic attack when she saw too much mess. She'd then started screaming and panicking over the silly thing. I'll admit, I never got on with my Mum, quite often I cursed at her and threatened to run away. Even now the idea of running away seems appealing, but I know I wouldn't last a day before I was kidnapped and raped or killed. My Mother also used to complain about hearing voices in her head, when she first had my older sister, OJ. She heard a voice telling her to throw the baby in the river. She was all panicked and stuff.
It's a bit obvious where I get my fascination of Mental Illnesses, isn't it? I realise now, my Mum would have been diagnosed with Severe OCD and possibly Schizophrenia.

I found myself growing up to hate my Mother, I couldn't stand to look at her half the time. I spent all my time in my bedroom, creating little stories with characters whom I could relate to. Most of them didn't have any parents, some had problems with their mothers. Others just didn't want to know their parents. I realise now that I was a bit . . . Well, I didn't want to know my Mother, end of. I wanted to live with my Dad and forget my Mother even existed. I never cried often, not in front of my Mother. When I cried I usually hid it, I was always good at biting back those emotions. Not anger, though. Never anger.

When I was angry, I seemed a complete different person. I have never been able to hold in anger. Whenever I got angry, I'd scream at the top of my voice, I'd curse, I'd hurt people. Both physically and emotionally. I'd break whatever was in my path and whoever disagreed with what I'd do could pee off, because I was going to rant and anything they said would just get me angrier.

Moving back to the story, I was alone in the bedroom, telling myself a story. When I started thinking. I was wondering why I'd built this emotional wall of anger just to protect myself from crying whenever my Mum ranted on about how I was worthless and ruined her life. I started to upset myself with pessimistic thoughts. What if she was right? What if I would get nowhere in the future? What if I'd end up like my own Mother? I started to cry. It was then that I heard, as clear as if someone were speaking right next to me; "Sh. Calm down, it's going to be fine. You'll be successful. You'll be a great person, and your Mum will calm herself down, she's going through a hard time."
I imagined I felt arms around me to accompany this sudden voice, and I let it lull me into a calm.
I realise now that this isn't a good thing, it almost confirms my worries about my Mental Health.

It was then, though. That I started developing people or "characters" to help me out. And it was then I started looking towards them as idols.

So the next time any of you feel like you're worthless, let your imagination take you. Create people who would more than happily show you to a good place in your mind, where you can feel what you want to feel. Rant how you need to rant. And if not, then I'm always here to listen ;)
Because as worthless and bad as you feel you are sometimes, in my eyes, you are f**king perfect.
^,^

Coldplay, and sexy hair.

So, today, I've been listening to Coldplay.
I listen to Coldplay quite a lot. I can't really stop myself from liking Alternative Rock, and Coldplay is my favourite band, anyway. I have also been developing Gwenyth and Ancora. They're character's in my novel. I'm determined to get this thing far. No matter what, and listening to Coldplay today, I've realised . . . I've been too depressed and uninspired lately, that's going to go.

You have all had to listen to a depressed Narfi drone on about how her life sucks. When it doesn't. My life is actually pretty good. Starting from today, you will all have your Happy-Narfi back. Coldplay many people *Cough*ILIA D<*cough* say is depressing, but for me, they make me happy. They drive me through the day, and give me inspiration, hope. I could burst into tears randomly, but I don't. I hold that shiz in, people.

I also noticed Chris Martin had sexy hair. I'm serious, I could just nom it all >D
Anyway, moving on . ..
You know who has sexy hair?
Most people in animes. . . I don't understand why. I mean, Naruto's hair . . . So. Damn. Sexy. And RDJ's hair! He's not in an anime, but his hair is luscious :3
Why am I talking about hair, you ask?
Because I'm epic. That's why.

Love.

Love is a feeling everyone wants. Everyone needs. It doesn't even have to be a feeling, really. Now, I'm not neccesarily talking about the type of love that soppy singers write about, and teenagers angst about. The type of love I'm talking about is the human sentimentality. The need to spread love, to feel love, to be loved, to kill love. A psychologist, Harry Harlow, studied "The Nature of Love" in which he described his findings on comfort deprivation in Rhesus monkeys. He said:
"... Contact comfort was an important basic affectional or love variable.. Insuring frequent and intimate body contact of the infant with the mother"
This implies that to feel loved, the monkey needed a hug, pretty much. The monkey needed to feel that someone loved it. It needed the tender touch of a loving mother. Well, don't we all? Many people who snap don't have anyone to love, to lose. We all ache for a loving touch sometimes. It doesn't have to be from a lover, quite often we just want a hug from a family member. I often find myself aching for someone to hug me, to comfort me, to whisper in my ear "It's all going to be okay." Especially when sick. This, I'm not sure what causes it. I'd love to know. I'd love to grab a mind and pick it apart, finding out exactly what makes someone tick.

More specifically, the mind of a criminal. Oh dear God, I'd love to be given the honour to be called in to inspect a dead body, find out how it died, and deduce from the wounds inflicted on the body what type of criminal we're looking for. The mind of a criminal is a truly wonderful thing, their view on "right" and "wrong" may not always be different, but their view on the world, on people, is.

Oh God, I'm going all creepy now.
Ahem, I shalt depart before I start revealing odd things.
Goodbye, Space Cadets!

Ah. Sorry.

I haven't posted in a while, sorry about that. For once, I don't have a planned topic that I need to rant about or anything. I've been needing to write and I've just written.
Man, I feel epic.
I've been having troubles recently, quite a few. So I've been a bit withdrawn. This was supposed to be something I could post in regularly.
Oops.

*Knock* *Knock* Hello? Ranty posts? Mind if I destroy your stream of ranting with some happiness? Hm?

Happiness was a bit of an exaggeration, just an almost-normal post, I suppose. I've decided to stop posting all this depressing crap, because quite frankly, it's depressing. Instead, I want to bring up a whole load of topics, make a huge blog post. About whatever, anything to keep my mind working. As... I am feeling brain-dead. Oh dear.

So, first topic is my English Assessment. For English we have to say a speech, unfortunately for me I forgot my speech before I had to say it to everyone. So I spent three minutes bluffing my way through from things I remembered at the back of my head. Apparantally, I was amazing and convincing. Which I'm quite happy about because my self-esteem isn't the best. However, I didn't do the best and wasn't chosen to go to the so-called 'finals'... Which means my level isn't boosted higher. In fact, my English teacher lowered my English level for no apparent reason. Which is really making me panic. I know I shouldn't panic, but these lowered level means less of a chance of a scholarship to the university I eventually want to go to. I mean, a scholarship is very unlikely, but now it's even more unlikely. I'm not a gifted child, I'm an absolute idiot, and what with my parent's state of money... A scholarship is the only way I'll get into university. So this is something I need to get, otherwise... Well... No university, I guess. This assessment I'm panicking about? It's a written assessment, all from the top of my head. That's not good. You don't just write assessments from the top of your head and pass unless you're bloody epic. I've done so before, but... This is different... It's actually... A topic I feel strongly about, I should have done something... Anything...

The second is friends. I've posted about friends before and this isn't too different. Remember that post I made, I said "Friends rarely ever are forever"? Well, guess who's been proved right? Me. My friend who I shan't name, I shall post him as Bob. My friend Bob, I have known for as long as I can remember, he's my oldest friend, and we were as close as... Two close things. Suddenly, he took the chance he had to be popular, and so he completely forgot about me and my friend, and he became b*tchy to us, rude and joining in with the bullies. He then was nice to us, and b*tchy straight after. I know I've lost him as a friend, but we seem to be keeping up this small charade that we're still close and we're still friends. It just hurts me. I don't like that, I don't like hurting over friends... I don't like panicking about losing one of the closest people to me. So I don't talk about it.

The third is anger. Anger is one of my many issues, the one feeling I can't control in front of people. Usually at school I keep up this pokerface, a layer of... Non-emotion I guess, cold nothingness. My features are rather sharp, so it usually looks like I'm silently fuming. Which I guess I am. When people make fun of me and stuff, I can hold back the tears, I can hold back the fear and hurt. I can stop that from showing. But it's the anger, the pure rage and spite mixing together to form an emotion I can't explain, but it's like a tornado ripping through me, making me want to scream as loud as I can and curse, using all the swears I know to insult the kid teasing me, smash all the objects I can see, harm everyone I see. I feel an almost irresistable urge to grab the sharpest thing I see and plunge it into the kid's stupid face, to see the blood rushing from them and hear their screams, to bloody make them feel pain. It's an almost irresistable urge. Which I hold back, but that doesn't stop me growling, or snapping at them, the main thing that holds me back is guilt. I just can't bring myself to do it, I know I'm perfectly capable, I have the anger. It scares me, knowing that I'm actually a potential danger. Because my anger is so hard to control, that I'd love to harm loads of people, like something else takes over. Yet, I know I'd feel terrible afterwards, and I can't bear the thought...

The fourth is writing. These story I've been planning and stuff? I've lost the will to carry on, I can't stop thinking about how... Rubbish it is. I have no gifts, I'm not talented, or exceptional, so what's the point in trying? Trying and being pathetic? Like I am.

The fifth just happens to be illnesses. My so-called illnesses are getting worse, blood-test is out of the question, but... I've been kind of... Showing symptoms...
Of certain things.
*Sigh*

The sixth is comic books. I was reading a few comic books, and I've realised how... Rubbish... Some comics that have been published are.
*Glares at X-Men*
Some comics just feature a bunch of underdeveloped, overpowered Mary-Sues who mess around in historic events. Three. Big. No-nos.

Well, this turned into a rant, didn't it?
Heh.
Well, had to be let out somewhere I guess.
If you read this far, then if I ever meet you I will hug you very tightly and give you a sugar-free lollipop.
:3

I hate my school.

Okay, stupid blog title, I know. Loads of kids hate their school. Well, I'm no different. Thing is, most of the kids hate their school because of the fact that they have to get up early and they dislike the teachers, so on, so forth.
I would love my school, if the teachers were actually good at teaching and... Certain people didn't go to my school, I would adore it, probably ACTUALLY wake up eager to go, not all fretty and depressed.

The only reason I hate school is because of the bullying. I'm not the only child with this problem, there are loads of kids who are bullied. I'm just too weak to put up with it quietly.
The teachers bully the students, and the students bully each other. It's like... A bloody jungle, I guess. I hate that I'm just sitting there, minding my own business and someone decides to bug me.
"Oh, you're reading?"
I ignore them, hoping they'll leave. When they suddenly start teasing me, calling me a sl*t, sk*t, Harriet Potter, Soapy Water, and one boy even shoved his empty crisp packet down my jacket and said, "Oh sorry, I have to put my rubbish in the bin."

Somehow, out of all I've been through, it's this small thing that I've let get to me. This stupid kid messing around with me that made me take a bath as soon as I got home so I didn't have to face my Mum and talk to her, so I didn't have to face anywhere. I stayed in the bathroom for hours, crying my eyes out. I shouldn't let it get to me, but it did. My parents don't know I get bullied, I don't plan on telling them, either. Because they'll over-react. Like they do. They'll tell me to fight back.
I can't.

I honestly want to believe I can just lie low and ignore everyone. But they just bug me, they mess with me and they make me come home feeling like I belong in a sewer.
Which I don't.
I'm not going to let this ruin me. I'm not going to just give up because of some people who hate me. F**k them. I am who I am, I can't help that, I'm not going to bloody change to fit in to society. So... I'm just going to put up with it I guess. Talking to them makes it worse, ignoring them makes them try and hit me. So, I'm going to do the... I guess, 'hard' thing, and just sit back and take it. Hmph.

Hm.

V for Vendetta. I'm watching it and fangirling <_<
Moving on...
So, writing. I want to write, but don't have a clue WHAT to write, apparantally I'm really good at saying inspirational shiz... So... Why can't I inspire myself? Odd.
Someone once asked how to make a child do something they don't want to do, I replied; "Say it's a game of Simon Says."
I have rubbish ideas, huh?
Well...
Dear God I'm uninspired >.<

I need to rant...
I will.

My panic attacks are back, I used to have them when I was a little kid, pretty badly, I was always fretty and I stuttered badly. I thought I was over that, but apparantally not. They're coming back. I'm not too peeved off by it, because I'm used to them, but I terrify myself and that's what I dislike, how I'm suddenly becoming a wimp and bursting into tears over stupid things. I don't cry. Period. I'm not built to cry, I'm built to get by.
LOL RHYME.
I am, though. I'm built to slide on through and keep myself together, not to burst into tears when I hear someone call me "Harriet Potter". I've been through this stuff all my life, the teasing, the laughing. And I'm used to it, I shouldn't be so worked up, and I should be over these stupid panic attacks.
LOL I TYPED THAT ALL WITHOUT LOOKING AT THE KEYBOARD AND ACTUALLY WATCHING THE TV.
Ahem.
Well, I'd be ranting a lot if I carry on. Sorry.
So...
Well, this is an end to the blog post I guess.
Sorry about that.
Sorry.
I...
Yeah...

School.

Well, I'm at my Mum's, which means I'm on a huge computer instead of a laptop, and that I'll have to sleep early. It also means that I feel like I'm being watched, and just as I typed that Mum looked over my shoulder o.o
Ahem. It's school tommorow, which means I'm panicky. I don't know why, but I just get panicky and jumpy and stuttery, for a few days my stutter'll get worse until I have to be quiet for a long while, building up the confidence to say something. before speaking VERY quietly. I'll screech and hide at the simplist things and it'll be SO easy for me to burst into tears.
Like Furby.
...

Uh, Furby didn't belong in that sentence... Anyway...At least Ilia might be coming down to visit me soon? I can't wait, I suppose I'll have to ask my parents... They might not be keen on that. Anyway...
Well, that's pretty much it. I've just been panicky about this, unable to actually clear my mind...
The bullies... Oh God, this is going to be rough few weeks. The teachers...
Ugh. I give up.

So...

Character development is fun. Oh lord it's fun, I love torturing characters to the point that you've just labelled yourself as a sadist. When I was younger I wanted to be a torturer... Then I found out that's illegal... Dream-crushing moment that was.
A young Narfi bounding down the stairs, bouncy ginger-hair blinding and making you think 'WOAH! THE ORANGENESS! WHEN DID IT GET HERE?" and the fact that my hair was so short making you think I was a boy. I looked like a boy, still do.
I turned to my mother, holding up another unfortunate teddy-victim. "One day this'll be a real person, ya get me?"
Mother simply sighed... "No Narfi, that's illegal."
I had dropped the teddy. The crushing feeling in my heart I could never forget, realising I would never give anyone a Chelsea Smile, that I'd never shove some poor unfortunate git on a Catherine's Wheel. Knowing I'd never shove anyone in an Iron Maiden, I'd never put someone on a Judas Cradle, never shove someone in a Brazen Bull, no Spanish-Tickler, no Garotte. I'd never even do foot-roasting or Flaggelation...
If you're squeamish, I recommend not trying to learn what those torture methods are.

So, with the slow realisation that I'd never do this. I took out my ruined childhood on my characters. And boy it is fun. It's fun pulling characters to the brink of being killed-off, and deciding "Oh crap, I still need them..."
I think... One or two of the people reading this'll know what character I'm torturing. I can't be blamed, I hate her. Oh my God, I freaking hate her! Why I created her I don't know, but I don't have the heart to kill her off, so I'll torture her.

Moving on, so I seem like less of a sadist... Hm... I wonder if souls have colours... If so... Oh my God, that'd be epic! Souls with colours! I mean, everyone see's the soul as silvery and wispy... Mostly in the form of their vessel, but I suppose, that a soul would seem more animal-like, the animal that the vessel is most like, and it wouldn't be silvery, it'd have a colour, depending on the person.
I wonder what animal and what colour my soul would be O.O

Well...
I've run out of things to say...
...
Awkward...

Oh crap.

I'm a bad influence.
A rubbish influence.
Seriously, if you ever get the chance to meet me, slap me. Slap me and yell at me. I'm serious. I know, self-hating much?
But I do hate myself. I'm a bad person, I wish I could actually believe everyone when they say I'm good, that some things aren't my fault...
But I can't.

Sorry about this.
I'm tired of myself.
I really am.
Well...

Friends.

Everyone loses friends, at one point or another. Friends rarely ever are 'forever' like people so insist. All these children wandering around saying "We're BFF's!" and breaking up the next day. The only true friends who ever actually stay with you... Are exactly that, true friends. You could be so far away from each other, yet you stay in contact. You are true friends, opposed to those who claim they're your friends and tease you. You feel the need to develop a new personality while in front of them, you're not comfortable telling everything to them, you don't want to have the burden of cheering them up when they're sad.

True friends aren't like that, true friends feel honoured to cheer each other up, true friends inspire each other, true friends aren't afraid to talk to each other about anything. They could be completely opposite, or so alike. True friends don't insult each other, ever, especially if they know it hurts the other person. What they say.

I... I don't have many friends, at all. True friends... None of my true friends live near me, all of my true friends are over the internet. How pathetic is that? All those friends I walk around with I actually dislike, I'm just too scared to break my friendship with them, I'm too pathetic to stand up and say: "Stop. No, this is not working, you're just teasing me, you're lowering my confidence, making me feel like crap, why? What do I do to you?" And so, I've given up on being a good friend. If people want my friendship, they accept me for me. I'm a terrible friend, I'm a horrible human being, I'm idiotic, I'm annoying, I haven't left any mark on the world. I'm not particularly gifted, I'd like to say I am, but I'm not. Ask any teacher of mine, they don't pay attention to me unless I'm causing a debate in class or they're telling me off for staring outside the window, wondering what life would be like if humans had evolved to the point of growing wings...

I wish that human beings could live a long while, and that they could... They could fix the fact that they're human. I know, what a stupid thing to say... But all the bad things in the world happen because we're only human, we can't help our stupidity and instincts, we gather in packs. "Safety in numbers", we can't stop our emotions and we twist and ruin the world for everything else. We turned a once-good thing into a terrible thing.

It really is a terrible world we live in. Humans killing each other, hurting each other, hurting animals. I can't talk, I take pleasure in other people's pain... I probably have a dark soul, and if there is anything after this life, I'll probably be punished. But... I know that whatever I do, it won't change a thing. This world is bad enough, I can try to make it better and only make it worse. I should just live in my bed, really, become ignorant to the cruelty that is this world.

Yeah, this is depressing, I know, but I need to let this out somewhere. I need to let out the fact that I can't look outside without wondering what everyone means by "It's a beautiful world we live in". I think, well you must be pretty damn optimistic to think that, because all I can see is a madhouse, an asylum for the criminally insane- that is this world, the scummy place where only the truly hideous belong. Sure, there are a few exceptions, a few truly beautiful examples of a human being, but they're... 'Saint's' in an otherwise cruel world.

I wish I could say I was a good example of a human being. I do. I wish I could say that I deserve to have a nice family, and friends that... At the end of the day, care for me. I wish I could say I deserve such a good life, I wish I could say that I am happy with myself. But I would be lying. Every word would be a lie. And I hate liars. Liars like the majority of this world, who take advantage and use each other like... Objects.

I'm being depressing. Wonderful. But someone I love is depressed, another is scared crapless, another is wondering why she can't feel anything, and another is just... Gone...
I don't know what to say, what to do to make it better. I know I can't. I've realised that. I can't help. I want to hug these people, sing in their ears with my crappy voice, assure them that everything will be fine, I want to tell them how much they mean to me, I want to be able to do these things, but they live too far away.

Being a good person is very hard. Often it seems impossible... Honestly, who wants to be a good person? I don't want to be an anything, I just want to grab all the people important to me and shove them into a giant huggle. I want to... Dammit, I want to be able to cry, and to break down in front of them all, and I'm bloody frustrated that I can't! I want to feel all these emotions that just won't come... I... Guys, you know who you are. You do, reading this, I know you know who you are. I love you all, okay? I love you all more than the people I see everyday. You all inspire me, make me happy... We can share things that I trust no-one else with.
Kat, you're included, in case you read this and were wondering.
I care for you all. I love you all. I want to be able to hug you all now, when I was sick... And scared, you were cheering me up, making me giggle, making me realise that you actually did care for me...
I know if anything happened to me, you'd be the first ones to act, and you'd immediately fuss over me.

And that's a nice feeling.
I love you all more than words can say.

Murder.

Murder is something that just happens. There's no way of stopping all of it. It happens. It's not something that's always considered right, but it happens all the time no matter what people think. Someone could just snap and murder someone, they may not want to, they may feel bad afterwards, they may be completely unaware of what they did. But they did it, and there's no changing that. There's no changing the fact that a fellow human being suffered and died at their hands... Which means they have to be punished, by law and morality. Because what they did was morally wrong. Because families are grieving the loss of a mother, daughter, father, son, aunt, uncle, cousin, grandfather, grandmother, whatever else. Because friends are grieving. Lovers are grieving. The murderer may not like what they did, the murderer may wish they never did it. But they may be afraid of what would happen to them if they gave themselves up, of what they'd be charged with. They may be thinking what they did was right and that what they did was acceptable, these people are classed as insane. The word 'insane' implies you do not understand the difference between 'right' and 'wrong'. Which leads me on to say, in the Seventies there was a murderer nicknamed the 'Vampire'. Three guesses what he did?
He murdered little children and drank their blood. Now, you're thinking this is depicable, this is disgusting, this is wrong. Yet I haven't even told you the full story. This man was a paranoid schizophrenic, he thought that drinking the blood would be therapeutic and help him with his 'condition', he thought what he was doing was acceptable. Unfortunately for him, the judges viewed him as completely sane and he was sentenced to death for first degree murder, housed at condemned row. He commited suicide in 1980 before his execution. This man was delusional and afraid, he described himself as 'a good person but a little wrong in the head and heart'. He wasn't given any help to stop the psychopathic tendencies and was sentenced to death for 'horrendous, brutal, murder'. He didn't hide what he did, he didn't seem to think it was bad what he was doing. He walked around covered in blood and entered people's back gardens. He talked about people out to get him, he talked about the Italians, and the Nazis. When he was younger, he once knocked on the door of his home, and when his mother answered to see him holding a dead cat and covered in blood she did nothing. She didn't tell him it was wrong to murder. If you're torturing animals at such a young age then you are basically learning that it is fine to kill, you are becoming desensitised to the feeling of guilt that a living creature has suffered and died at your hands. He was clearly delusional and not given any help, that is what I think is wrong. The fact that he killed is wrong, but the fact that he couldn't help himself and wasn't given help is wrong. There are those who need help, who feel guilty afterwards and should be offered help, and there are just plain cold-blooded murderers. The one's that need help would deny what they did, they'd feel guilty and want to forget about it, they wouldn't want to be aware of what they did. There are some who don't even know they murder, they go into a trance and murder, they wake up and hear about it on the news, a thought goes through their head "Huh, now that's just disgusting, who would do such a thing?" , evidence points in their direction, they don't know why, they assume they're being framed...
I'm not the smartest person alive. Hell, I'm not even smart. But sometimes I really do think the judges are absolute idiots. It's not my place to say that, I know it isn't. I am not complaining about the justice system. But I do see the death sentence as murder. I do think it could be much better. That's not me suggesting that I would think a better one up, because I wouldn't. I'm not smart enough. I'm not smart at all, but the people who get these qualifications are smart and surely should be able to think a better justice system up? People who are not even guilty have been punished for crimes they did not commit... Closing the case and leaving the real criminal a free person. This, I'm not happy with. I am simply asking you to think of how many other people have been convicted of crimes they didn't commit, and who else who has a mental disorder has been denied help and given a death sentence or such?
Think about that.
Now, to make this blog post incomplete I need to post a picture because this post is long and I doubt you read it all and are really depressed now if you have.

Oh wait, that's not... Appropriate... Crap, I don't know how to get rid of it... *Sigh* What a way to ruin a half-decent blog post, Narfi...

Ilia and Mi-Mi.

Heh. I figured it was about time I posted something sentimental and... Soppy. Two things I hate. Dear God...
Well, two people who I'm going to say are probably the closest people to me... Ever... Are dear Ickle Ilia and Granny Mi-Mi...
I'm serious.
The people I trust most with... Everything... Are Ilia and Mi-Mi. And I've never even met them, I know what they say about being careful who you meet over the internet. But I honestly know Ilia and Mi-Mi would never harm me, and I'd never harm them.
Ilia, Mi-Mi... I doubt you're reading this, but... I really do hope we never lose contact. And some day, in the distant future, we will actually meet up.
And maybe I'd have grown a few inches so Ilia won't be able to pat me on the head, and Mi-Mi won't wear high-heels in front of me <_<
Not to say that we ever will, and that's... That's what saddens me, the fact that it's just... Too easy for us to lose contact and never talk to each other, or meet each other again, even after the impact you've had on my life...
I'm not going to cry. I never cry... I'm not going to cry...
Aw, man...
Well, now I'm crying. Heh. I just... Hate the idea of losing contact with you both, I love you two so much. In a totally siblinglike way. You two inspire me, and our banter makes me giggle, you two are always there whenever I'm down and I don't... I don't repay you in any way... Oh God, I'm such a bad friend... I'm hardly ever there for you like you two are for me, I never... I... I goddamned love you two :3
I do.
I really hope we ARE friends for a long, long time. Even though we've never met. I hope we DO meet, and I know lots of huggles will be given out if we do <_<
Heh. I've probably depressed you all so much, but... Well, I actually want to shove a song in your two's faces, a song that I love, but I feel actually describes us well :3
As soppy as it is...
Don't ask >.<
Most of the others I thought suited us were love songs, so yeah <.<
Plus, this describes us individually on the inside, too.

  Heh, I know... I know...
But I'm serious. Completely.
Luffle you two!

Narfi out.

Oh God what am I doing?

Well.
I'm still sick.
I blame Ilia ¬.¬
And I just want to write. But I'm too busy bloody vomiting to bloody pick up a pen or bloody type on the bloody computer! Well, actually... Recently I haven't been vomiting or anything, I'm almost better. You could say.
Of course, the fact that I was ill again is just another reason for my family to bug me to get a blood test. I mean, jeeze, haven't they ever heard of being sick every now and then?
I just happen to be sick half the time.

Moving on.
At least I have great ideas for my le story. And Ilia is in it <_<
She's the crazy bipolar one, if anyone was wondering. Don't tell her, she'll kill me! Then kill me again and again, and accuse me of being bipolar then break down in tears and say sorry. See what I mean by 'she's the crazy bipolar one'?
So is Mi-Mi.
She's the slightly less crazy, shy one who'll say sorry for no particular reason.
And as am I.
I'm just the plain crazy one.
AND WE'RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER *Drools rainbows and kills HSM people*
Which means you better hide 'cause we'll SO try to murder you in your sleep.

I'm losing my touch, it seems...

Well... I have a problem. Not only problems in the family, but problems with my writing.
I've been doing next to NO proper writing, I just... Don't know what TO write, all I've done is planning. Planning, planning, planning for my story, I don't even know what to call it. I've been obsessing over character development and the storyline recently. Because I HATE underdeveloped characters and storylines, and I actually DO like the fourth wall.
Unlike SOME people.
Ilia ¬.¬
I've been becoming sloppy and uncreative, all my ideas actually HURT my head. And I've been feeling too self-hating to rant it to anyone. So I'm ranting it here.
I've gone through this stuff before, where I become sloppy with my writing and grammar. I am a Grammar-Nazi and HATE when my grammar is off... And lately... I've been unable to spell the word 'Coincidentely' correctly!
... Oh my God, I mis-spelled the word coincidentely...
And again...
DAMMIT! NOW I HAVE TO CHECK IN A DICTIONARY! D<
FUUU!

Coincidentally.
That is how it is spelled.
Damn.
See what I mean?
*Sigh*
Well... I've ranted. So... Seeya!
I'll leave you with something happy, a theme song of a character of mine. :3

Hm...

Ilia hasn't been online or talked to me within a week, maybe more.
And I'm worried.
Maybe I shouldn't be, maybe she's perfectly fine and having more time away from the computer... But... Well, her last blog post seemed more worried and depressing, as if she isn't getting any better...

And if she doesn't get better. That's cause for worry.
I'm not sure if you've been online or would even read this, Ilia.
But if so, then I hope you do get better, and that your humour'll be back in no time.

Love,
Auntie Leto <3

Science teachers and wet sponges.

Oh, how I love pouring ice-cold water over my Science teacher's head. It was amazing. You're all wondering what I'm yabbering on about... Aren't you?

Well, today was Oscar Romero day, meaning at our school we have the afternoon off time table. There's this thing-ma-boobies called The Stocks, which is exactly what the name implies, except instead of rotten tomatoes... We throw ice-cold sponges at the teachers! w00t! The Science teacher was in the stocks, so I went up, picked the bucket of ice-cold water up and threw it over her head!: D

She chased me across the playground and slapped me with a sponge but it was worth it to hear her shout (she has a Scottish accent so it's funny <.<) and see her run in high heels...

On the bad side, I didn't get to see The Hunger Games today. Pity me.
To top this post off;

The Bing Bang Theor-Exhibiton O.O

Well, for Science I went to The Big Bang Exhibition. It was... To say the least; epic. I had tons of fun. Really, I thought it'd be quite boring and... Exhibition-ey. But it was really interesting, there were loads of Science experiments that I wasn't familiar with, I won a few freebies, too. A pen that flashes when you hit it against something hard, a balloon and a Psychology booklet. Boom. Fun.
Other than that, I was writing, and planning a novel of mine. I'll tell Ilia all about it when I get the chance, and I'll also ask her about her writing, she writes brilliantly, mind-blowing. And a fellow Grammar-Nazi is always welcome to rant to Auntie Narf-Narf. I'd love to hear about other people's writing, too. It interests me...

Anywho. I have a new favourite quote. I have a number of favourite quotes, but only a few I have a serious soft spot for;
"Strength without wisdom is no strength at all."
"Who wants beans?"
"You got red on you."
"What's the plan?" ... "Wing it."
A few others... But now a new one! Thanks to the Psychology booklet I acquired... "Intelligence is what we use when we don't know what to do." <.<
I love Psychology... Planning on doing it when I'm older, Criminal Psychology :3
Ugh. I wish I was an over-achiever O.O

Well.
I think I've managed to bore you all. Bai. Narf-Narf out. Heres one of my favourite songs to entertain you. :3

World Book Day!... Tommorow...

World book day tommorow! It WOULD have been today if it wasn't for that damned stupid leap year <_<
Of course, my luck is I saw the new Avengers trailer... I haven't stopped fangirling. That's a move that's going to be full of spexy, spexy epicness. A new Hulk... Who cares? He saves Iron Man! : D
Short blog post again, but I want to write. All this writing inspiration is killing me...

Well... Watch the new trailer... Agree with me... Drag Chris Hemsworth to my home along with RDJ...
I'll be a happy bunny.

Bai.

Inspiration.

Finding inspiration... Sucks.
It can be from the simplest of places, really. The simplest of people, from enemies to best friends. It can be any type of inspiration, too. For me, it's usually writing inspiration.
I've been lacking it recently. Writing inspiration is a... It's hard to find, it really is. Especially when you want to write a story in the middle of the night... I should be in bed, but screw sleep. I have insomnia anyway, writing would be a much better way to spend this time...
Short blog post... Yeah, but I needed to say this somewhere. If you ever need inspiration. Bug a friend.
Seriously, pee them off into weird actions, and you've got inspiration.
Boom.

Yay?

Hi again!
Well, I've decided to finally bring up the inevitable with a blog made by me.
The Avengers.
Being a Marvel fanatic. I was at some point going to mention the Avengers movie coming out. But no. I'm not mentioning. I'm creating a post dedicated to it. For those of you non-existent readers who don't know what the Avengers is. I would slap you. I really would. Nevertheless, I am going to allow myself to fangirl by giving you all a taste of the spexy epic that is... Chris Hemsworth and Robert Downey Jr... IN THE SAME MOVE!

JUST LOOK AT IT! O Chris Hemsworth you SPEXY BEAST! Ahem... Now now, Narfi... You shouldn't be talking like that... Oh my RDJ! YOU SPEXY BEAST ALSO! I mean... Man, look at what you non-existent readers did! You made me fangirl! But yeah... This movie looks epic, no? I've been waiting for this for two years, some Marvel fans... Even longer.

Well... In order to stop fangirling, since I've learned how to post videos, I am going to spam you all with some! Well, the Hunger Games movie is coming out soon. I still need to find someone to drag along... It looks quite... Weak... Well, wish me luck dragging someone along to watch a seemingly weak movie that's three hours long and mightn't be good... Yay... I'm going to be forever alone in the cinema... Oh man... Here's the trailer so you can judge how it'll be!  Looks pretty weak, right? I'm going to watch it anyway... Because I'm epic like that... Extremely modest. Too.

Well, I've spammed you enough already. I might end up posting twice in the same day because I'm an obsessive blogger already, but otherwise... Enjoy deciding which trailer's best, and bye!

I'm also planning a novel, just so you guys know.

Bye!

Titles suck.

Hi again.
Well, I added a colour scheme to the blog yesterday, I like it, think it suits my personality. I don't really think anyone is actually reading this, but it's nice to have somewhere to ramble. Not about my social life though, because I technically don't have one. What'd you expect? Who else blog- Actually, loads of people with social lives blog... Damn.
I'm not going to talk about everyday things, either. Maybe mention stories that I like to write sometimes, but that'll be about it.
Well... What to blog about then? Oh, music, maybe?

Music is really inspiring ^^. I'm a really hard person to motivate but all I have to do is listen to Coldplay or some other band. I don't really like... "Modern" music, I like bands from the 80's and "Rock" music, I guess you call it. The most normal artist I like is probably "P!nk" and we all know that she's not normal. She's talented as hell and creative, she has a great voice and doesn't sing about s*x and drugs, that's not what's classed as normal anymore, apparantly *Eyeroll*
When people try to motivate me, I tell them to pee off... Not very politely, either <_< I'm not an extremely polite person. But when I listen to music, I get loads of ideas to write or whatever. I can't draw, that's... It requires patience and a great attention span. Both of those I don't have, I'm not a perfectionist, either. So when I draw, it ends up as a blob. Two people hugging would look like to random wotsits had I drawn them. I do have a friend who can draw, she entered a competition and came second out of the whole UK. Talented, much? xD

Uh... Well, this post has moved away from music and into art it seems... My favourite artist is probably Victoria Frances. If you haven't heard of her, I suggest you Google Images her and marvel at the beauty of her art. Seriously. My... Friends, I guess that's what I'm calling them, think I'm a freak for liking her, because she's quite gothic and shiz, but what can I say? I'm gothic. Well. I'm not exactly normal... And proud! Who wants to be normal, anyway? Maybe just to keep away the bullies, but I've honestly given up on that. People get bullied, I'm one of them. I'm fine with that. I mean, I still feel bad for not helping out my friend when she was bullied. But, I'm a bad friend.
This is... My longest blog post... Woah, I ramble.

Uhm. Requiem for A Dream just came on, which moves this back to music... Yeah. I listen to Mozart, because good music is good music, no matter how old. Apparantly, the song was made when Mozart had a dream that someone asked him to compose a Requiem, which is music for a funeral. So he started creating it and named it "Requiem For a Dream"... Obviously. It's not finished, just an idea from his head. Everyone gets great ideas... That usually should be finished, otherwise it's just a waste of an idea that came to the wrong mind, I suppose.
Which is why I'm going to formulate a way to become more dedicated with my work, heh heh. "Work" makes me sound like a proffesional, which I am not. Writing is just a hobby of mine, maybe if I'm lucky I'll be an author... Hell, maybe I'll own a bookstore! That would be so cool! I'd love to own a bookstore! I have too many plans for the future... XD
Archeology would be nice, Journalism, Owning a Bookstore, Becoming an Author, Symbology, Psychology, Comic book writer... I am either very indecisive, or very ambitious... Let's go with ambitious...

Well, I've rambled enough, I guess. You've probably fallen asleep at your computer, so bye!
Narfi out! ^^

What to say... What to say?

Hi there. Narfi here.
As you can probably tell, I'm hopeless with names. (Post names, silly. I like my name D8) Anywho, I'm also clueless as to what to say or do...

I guess talking about myself'll do... Gods that sounds so vain... I meant my name and shiz.
I'm Narfi Hypnos, and I like to write, read, doodle in my maths book and come up with random ideas in the bathroom. The bathroom is surprisingly inspiring. In fact, I guess I go there when I have creativity block...

Oh man, I HATE creativity block, it's like, you want to do something creative and epic... You can't decide what to do, you're bored as hell and just want to WRITE/DRAW/CREATE MUSIC/ANYTHING, REALLY. I'm sure quite a few people can relate to this... My solution is to listen to music, sit back with the laptop and a cup of tea, watch a good movie maybe, and just stop looking for ideas- and they should come to you. *Click* Like that, I'd hope...

So, I guess I'm rambling on about useless stuff that is probably boring you to hell, so I'll just say bye now... Bye! Narfi's going off to do some writing now...