No one has written me anything. You people suck at filling out requests.

I've decided that from now on I'm going to carry a small mallot in my back pocket. Why, might you ask? Well to beat people with, of course! From this day forward, should someone make me abgry, like a certain red head we all know, I shall be able to easily remove my decide of punishment from my person and proceed to beat them upon the head with it. Sounds good, yes?

By now you will have probably realized that I am a very violent person. Usally only to those who deserve it or to those who I know that should I give them a concussion, it won't do anymore damage to their already ruined brain. Leah likes my violence. It makes me an interesting person. But I am not abusive to those I care about, or friends. I'm pretty lovey-dovey, as a matter-of-fact. I enjoy hugging more so than the average person.

Moving on. People are really begining to infuriate me. So much so that I can't spell and don't feel like consulting word check. Damn you microsoft and Bill Gates...

I wish I could play the harmonica. Well... More than just one song.

I don't see why I complain as much as I do. I guess it might just be to pass the time.

The fair is tomorrow. Fun fun. Wanna go, Leah? ((Haha, she doesn't even have a skyrock))

"They say that it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, but what happens when you lose the person you loved most?"

Random, eh?

"Elephants say "Bahhh"" - Darian.

Moving on to more serious matters and not the the constant ramblings of a sleep deprived teen. I need a life. Like... A real one. Not just a make believe one that I tell myself on a constant basis to keep away the tinglings of depression and loneliness. Did I spell that correctly? Not quite sure. I want to be part of a band, really bad. Who wants to teach me how to play something?

I feel like my head is slowly being crushed by the large burning foot of the demon of oppression. He's quite the ugly thing, if I do say so myself.


Someone should write me something. A song, a poem, a short story, anything. Please?

Well, it's official, today sucks. People have gone and pissed me off, once again. And do you know what I do when that happens? I hop into my make believe car and take a steady drive down the road of my past, revisiting all the good and the bad, mainly the bad.

One memory that was brought up the other day was the one of my dad, one I don't like thinking of much. If you know me well enough, my Jourdanton friends, then you know the whole story, but it not, well then here you go.

Last year, 2007, I spent the summer with my dad. ((straying from subject)) He and my mother had been divorced since I was in the 4th grade. Up untill 7th, he still lived in Canyon Lake but once the school year started, he packed up and left for Missouri, which is about a 12 hour drive from Texas. Well I had gotten to go visit him over the summer but while spending the whole summer with him got to the both of us and all we would do is fight. And even during the next summer, that's all we would do. Well, my dad and I had a joke going on since I was little that he was going to get cancer from smoking so much. Well, he did.

But suprisingly, it wasn't from smoking. It had been just 2 weeks after I came back to Texas that I got a call from my Aunt saying that my dad was in the hospital with a very aggressive cancer that was going to eat him alive in less than two months. Imagine my suprise when I hear that of the man who I had just spent two months fighting with, who was perfectly fine at the time? So, within one day, I was all packed up and on the way to see the man who had spawned and raised me. My brother, Stephan, had called and told me that he looked a lot different than he had before, and he was right, he did.

When I got to the hospital the next day, I got to see my father, Richard Lee Daves. He was laying in the hospital bed, asleep, weighing around 30 pounds less than he had when I had seen him last, pale and with a giant tumor protruding from the side of his neck. The cancer had managed to sneak up on him within 2 weeks and swallow his throat almost entirely. He had to stay on life support and couldn't breathe most of the time... The doctors said that he only had maybe a month to live, if he was lucky, two with treatment. Needless to say, it was terminal. I can still remember the look in his eyes when he woke up to find me there. He looked so... Relieved... As if I had done him a miracle by just appearing. Something else I will never forgot is the way he sounded when he talked... He wasn't like he had been before at all. His once strong and booming voice was quiet and hoarse...

My brothers showed up later that night to see me. They both looked so tired, so was I. You would be too if you were dealing with some of the people in my family. My uncle Robert, if I even dare call him family, was in a silent battle against my father to gain everything that he owned so that he could turn his back on his little brother and sell all of his worldy possesions as if they never ment a thing.

Now, I don't feel like telling the whole story because that would bring up too much but one important detail was that the day my father got to go home on hospice, it was time to celebrate the day of my birth. It was on Sept. 11 that I got to see my father for the very last time. I got a call 13 days later from my brother telling me that he had died, my brother Justin lying beside him...

But that's not even the worst part. I found out that during December, my Grandma, whom I love dearly, was dying as well... She died 6 days before Christmas.... Then, once the new year started, my aunt Jane passed away... I lost 3 people that I loved all in a matter of 6 months... I almost lost my brother, Stephan, on Christmas eve when he was rushed into the hospital. I can't recall what happened but had they waited one more hour for surgery, he would have died...

So other than the normal teenage issues that I've been dealing with, raging hormones, school, and boy issues that suck major ass, I've had other, more depressing, things to cope with...

And people wonder why I try to be as closed off as I can?

Not to mention the other forms of abuse I suffered while growing up, included being raped for multiple years starting at a very young age, impregnated, then thrown down the stairs when the person, who will remain unsaid due to personal reasons, found out... Maybe this is why I have trouble trusting guys, or really getting close to them...




So this has been a trip down Memory Lane... That will be $22.50...

My mind is going insane right now. I want to laugh, I want to scream, I want to cry. I don't know why I'm feeling this way but it's horrible. I want to curl up and sleep but I also want to run around with my arms in the air, screaming about rabies and the lockness monster.

The insanity is evident...

But on lighter news... I'm going to show some leg tomorrow. It will be amazing. But then the leg will be covered with knee high socks. I'll probably get new pictures as well...

For some reason, I'm reminded of when Daylon and I argued about levels of society and how no matter what, there would always be a form of social ranking... I pwned him in it. It was amazing... Silly boy, you can't have a dictatorship while having no social separation... :]

I want to go back to six flags and run around with Danika. ((Miss you gurlie))

And I want to move back to Canyon Lake... Everything here is so depressing...The youth has gone to hell in this world... No one ever wants to work for something, they all want it to come to them and get angry when it doesn't happen. I'm not gonna lie, I'm like that at times as well, but not like these people... Oh God no... Everyone is so caught up in drugs and sex that they end up ruining their lives by getting addicted to heroin or having a child at the age of 14... I've never seen so many people on the road to failure before. It's so discouraging.

I mean, if these people can't do it, then why can I? I'd live to believe I'm better, that I have the inspiration to be great but now I'm just not sure. This move has opened my eyes to the world around me. Sure, I still act like the innocent little girl they once knew but I've changed. I mean... It's so hard for me to write now! Imagine, Ceira, me having trouble writing? I just... Blah. Never WANT to anymore.

And weirdly, I feel like I need to get out of this place.

It's eating me alive.

Alright... Here goes my first blog entry. Damn this feels lame. I'm not used to sitting myself infront of a computer and attempting to pour my heart out onto the screen. It seems kind of odd to do that when people who I don't even know will see this...

So I guess that I will just sit here and write about the current happenings in the life of Ashley.

Right now it's pretty lame. No one is in my class right now so it's just me, sitting here, not doing anything for an hour and a half. It's really begining to piss me off because we're never going to get this year in German done with those fools dissapearing like they do...

And people are getting upset lately over the smallest things. It's really irritating. I guess I'm going to go through with the whole home school thing because I won't have to deal with the many idiots in my life. Go me?

Though there is a small selection of friends who I will miss, though I suppose that since I'll be able to drive, I could always go see them...