Heres A Liittle Biit About Me <3

Name:Cindy Kitty
Age:14
Location: hell.. still..
Mood:lovesick <3
Likes: //Music //Manga-Case Closed is My favorite //Drawing/Sketching // Penguins // Writing // Trampolines // Anime// INUYASHA!//
My Favorite Song: Fukai Mori - Do As Infinity
My Favorite Movie: Kick a**
Dislikes:Too Longg... Look In My Journal For It,, if yew even care.. PX
Relationship Status: Hawt and Single smile
Turn Ons <3 - growling, blood, skater haiir
Some Pics Of Me
















I really dont care what yew think.. im me and thats all ill ever be and its good enough.

A Love Story

girl: do i ever cross ur mind
Boy: No

Girl: Do you like me?

Boy: Not really

Girl: Do you want me?

Boy: No

Girl: Would you cry if I left?

Boy: No

Girl: Would you live for me?

Boy: No

Girl: Would you do anything for me?

Boy: No

Girl: Choose—me or ur life

Boy: my life

The girl runs away in shock and pain and the boy runs after her and says…

The reason you never cross my mind is because you’re always on my mind.

The reason why I don’t like you is because I love you.

The reason I don’t want you is because I need you.

The reason I wouldn’t cry if you left is because I would die if you left.

The reason I wouldn’t live for you is because I would die for you.

The reason why I’m not willing to do you anything for you is because I would do everything for you.

The reason I chose my life is because you ARE my life.

put this in your profile in the next 10 mins and you will have a good relationship

This is such a sad story, please repost this on your profile if it made you cry. It made me cry.

EMOS:
x] Not All of Us Arr Depressed
x] we Arr Nice People
x] we Dont Sit Around All Day Feeling Sorry For Ourselves
x] we DONT Have Made Up Problems
x] we Have Feelings
x] Not All of us Arr Bi!..but i am!!!
x] we Arr The Hottestt People ALIVE!
x] we Do Smile
x] we Do Smile
x] we Do Laugh
x]we all don't cut....BUT I DO!!!!!!!!!
Copy and paste 2 ur profile if you agree

If Justin Bieber went missing, 95% of girls would die. 4% would celebrate. I'm part of the 1% that would be poking my new cell mate with a spoon. Like if you get it

Jack And Jill Went Up The Hill To Smoke Some Marijuana,
Jack Got High And Dropped His Fly And Said "Do You Wanna?'
Jill Said Yes And Dropped Her Dress And They Had Lots Of Fun,
But Jill Forgot To Take The Pill And Now They Have A Son.

How Could You?
When I was a puppy, I entertained you with my antics and made you laugh. You called me your child, and despite a number of chewed shoes and a couple of murdered throw pillows, I became your best friend. Whenever I was “bad,” you’d shake your finger at me and ask, “How could you?” — but then you’d relent and roll me over for a belly rub.
My housebreaking took a little longer than expected, because you were terribly busy, but we worked on that together. I remember those nights of nuzzling you in bed and listening to your confidences and secret dreams, and I believed that life could not be any more perfect.
We went for long walks and runs in the park, car rides, stops for ice cream (I only got the cone because “ice cream is bad for dogs” you said), and I took long naps in the sun waiting for you to come home at the end of the day.
Gradually, you began spending more time at work and on your career, and more time searching for a human mate. I waited for you patiently, comforted you through heartbreaks and disappointments, never chided you about bad decisions, and romped with glee at your homecomings, and when you fell in love.
She, now your wife, is not a “dog person” — still I welcomed her into our home, tried to show her affection, and obeyed her. I was happy because you were happy. Then the human babies came along and I shared your excitement. I was fascinated by their pinkness, how they smelled, and I wanted to mother them, too. Only she and you worried that I might hurt them, and I spent most of my time banished to another room, or to a dog crate.
Oh, how I wanted to love them, but I became a “prisoner of love.” As they began to grow, I became their friend. They clung to my fur and pulled themselves up on wobbly legs, poked fingers in my eyes, investigated my ears, and gave me kisses on my nose. I loved everything about them and their touch — because your touch was now so infrequent — and I would’ve defended them with my life if need be. I would sneak into their beds and listen to their worries and secret dreams, and together we waited for the sound of your car in the driveway. There had been a time, when others asked you if you had a dog, that you produced a photo of me from your wallet and told them stories about me.
These past few years, you just answered “yes” and changed the subject. I had gone from being “your dog” to “just a dog,” and you resented every expenditure on my behalf. Now, you have a new career opportunity in another city, and you and they will be moving to an apartment that does not allow pets. You’ve made the right decision for your “family,” but there was a time when I was your only family
I was excited about the car ride until we arrived at the animal shelter. It smelled of dogs and cats, of fear, of hopelessness. You filled out the paperwork and said, “I know you will find a good home for her.” They shrugged and gave you a pained look. They understand the realities facing a middle-aged dog, even one with “papers.” You had to pry your son’s fingers loose from my collar, as he screamed “No, Daddy Please don’t let them take my dog!" And I worried for him, and what lessons you had just taught him about friendship and loyalty, about love and responsibility, and about respect for all life.
You gave me a good-bye pat on the head, avoided my eyes, and politely refused to take my collar and leash with you. You had a deadline to meet and now I have one, too. After you left, the two nice ladies said you probably knew about your upcoming move months ago and made no attempt to find me another good home. They shook their heads and asked, “How could you?”
They are as attentive to us here in the shelter as their busy schedules allow. They feed us, of course, but I lost my appetite days ago. At first, whenever anyone passed my pen, I rushed to the front, hoping it was you that you had changed your mind — that this was all a bad dream… or I hoped it would at least be someone who cared, anyone who might save me.
When I realized I could not compete with the frolicking for attention of happy puppies, oblivious to their own fate, I retreated to a far corner and waited. I heard her footsteps as she came for me at the end of the day, and I padded along the aisle after her to a separate room. A blissfully quiet room. She placed me on the table and rubbed my ears, and told me not to worry. My heart pounded in anticipation of what was to come, but there was also a sense of relief. The prisoner of love had run out of days. As is my nature, I was more concerned about her. The burden which she bears weighs heavily on her, and I know that, the same way I knew your every mood. She gently placed a tourniquet around my foreleg as a tear ran down her cheek. I licked her hand in the same way I used to comfort you so many years ago. She expertly slid the hypodermic needle into my vein. As I felt the sting and the cool liquid coursing through my body, I lay down sleepily, looked into her kind eyes and murmured, “How could you?” Perhaps because she understood my dog speak, she said, “I’m so sorry.”
She hugged me, and hurriedly explained it was her job to make sure I went to a better place, where I wouldn’t be ignored or abused or abandoned, or have to fend for myself — a place of love and light so very different from this earthly place. And with my last bit of energy, I tried to convey to her with a thump of my tail that my “How could you?” was not directed at her.
It was directed at you, My Beloved Master, I was thinking of you. I will think of you and wait for you forever. May everyone in your life continue to show you so much loyalty.
Repost this story if it made you cry.

Paste this on your profile if it made you sad
Her dad was a drunk
Her mom was an addict
Her parents kept her
Locked in an attic
Her only friend
was a little toy bear
It was old and worn out
And had patches of hair
She always talked to it
When no one’s around
She lays there and hugs it
Not a peep of sound
Until her parents
unlock the door
Some more and more pain
She’ll have to endore
A bruise on her leg
A scar on her face
Why would she be
In such a horrible place?
But she grabs her bear
And softly crys
She loves her parents
But they want her to die
She sits in the corner
Quiet but thinking,
" God, why? Why is
My life always sinking? "
Such a bad life
For a sad little kid
She’d get beaten and beaten
For anything she did
Then one night
Her mom came home high
The poor child was hit and slapped
As hours went by
Then her mom suddenly
Grabbed for a blade
It was sharp and pointy
One that she made
She thrusted the blade
Right in her chest,
" You deserve to die
You worthless pest! "
The mom walked out
Leaving the girl slowly dieing
She grabbed her bear
And again sgarliced crying
Police showed up
At the small little house
They quickly barged in
Everything was as quiet as a mouse
One officer slowly
Opened a door
To find the sad little girl
Lieing on the floor
It must have been bad
To go through so much harm
But at least she died
With her best friend in her arms
If you don’t put this in ur profile then it proves you have no heart!!♥