Nobody's Outlet ~possible-ish trigger~

[Nobody]

So I guess here I'll just put whatever I feel like putting. I really, really like that I have somewhere like this, just to let you know. I hope that maybe, just maybe, I might be a dress designer someday. Highly improbable, but let's be optimistic. So I'll probably have some photos of dresses up. Tell me what you think about them, and be honest. If you think it looks like shit, then I am welcoming and encouraging you to say that you think it looks like shit. I also write a bit. That may or may not go up, depending on a lot of factors.

Here's the first of my favorite dresses:

[Nobody]

So, I wrote a whole stickin bunch last night. About myself, about my situation, and about how and why I am who I am. But my laptop is so old that I can't get internet on it, nor can I save it to a flash drive. So here I am, sitting at the library, staring sullenly at the library's computer which does not accept floppy drives. So, posting about myself will have to wait, but I'll open up soon. I've told one person, and now it's just a matter of time before the flood gates come crashing down. Until then, I really do want feedback on the dresses guys.

[Nobody]

I'm gonna start putting some poetry up. Feedback would be appreciated.

1)
Never shall they make sense. The whispers from above.

2)
I sit here. Listening. Wondering.
What have I done?
What have I done to deserve them?
The moments,
good and bad.
What have I done to deserve them?
I came into this world,
expecting.
Expecting care.
Expecting love.
Expecting nourishment and a roof over my head.
But what had I done to deserve them?
The carefree, cloudless thoughts of a child.
What had I done to deserve them?
Friends.
Responsibilities.
Enemies.
What have I done to deserve them?
I have done nothing.
Nothing to deserve them.
Yet mine they are.
Not that I want them.
For I don't.

3)
The thoughts of a child.
Or rather, lack thereof.
For their heads are blissfully empty.
Not a care in the world.
Perfectly content to follow the leader,
unquestioningly.
But all good things must come to an end.
For we grow ever older.
And with age,
comes doubt.
With doubt, skepticism.
Skepticism with Scrutiny.
Scrutiny, suspicion.
Suspicion, distrust.
Distrust, rebellion.
Rebellion, Naught.
Naught shall come of rebellion.
Naught but pain.
Naught but suffering.
And remembrance.
For rebellion is not easily forgiven.
Nor forgotten.


I'll also post some music.


And here's today's dress.

[Nobody]

I was going to try to post on this everyday, but well...I fail. Anyway I don't have much to say. I spent another Valentine's Day alone, but I came home and cosplayed Canada from Hetalia, which half made me feel better, and half made me more depressed that my family was ignoring me. Whatever.

Today's Music:


Today's Dress: