Wow, Dillon. This is a new low, even for you. Your mom loves you. Out of all the people in this world, she was the one to adopt, given your background. She puts up with all your bullshit, when no one else will, and this is how you treat her? Learn a little respect. She took you in as your own. We accepted you as family. As for the "until you walk in my shoes and go through what I do on the daily basis please don't get in the middle of it hun..." HELLO!! I AM in your shoes! And how about taking a little walk in your mother's shoes? It isn't easy dealing with a delinquent like you. Grow up. You need to take a second and step out of the box, and look in. As someone who has been in your situation, I can empathize with you. However, I have traved down the path you are headed down until it destroyed me. Even though I understand now, I have hurt a lot of people in the process, and that is something that can be forgiven, but never forgotten. All your mother is trying to do is guide you down the right path when times are tough. She's not perfect, but none of us are. Consider yourself lucky that God has brought her into your life--it could be a lot worse--and that's me speaking from experience. Please don't do this.

At the house with Katy-Bug, Princess, and Pebbles! Parents are gone with the lil bro, and sister's at a friend's until tomorrow. The house is OURS until late tonight. Gonna make some play-dough, watch some movies, eat some Ravioli, and rock out to music in the living room. It's gonna be a good day. :D

This is a dream I had a few weeks ago. It was so weird, but surprisingly funny, so I wrote it down in my book of odd dreams. Yes, I have one. Me and my siblings--Kiya and Ben, we live on the other side of the town. The BAD side. Look out your window, and you'll most likely see a gang fight, old men smoking dope, or an anorexic cat. It's like you see in the movies. The trees don't have leaves (not green ones anyway), there isn't any grass, and the houses look like they were built about the time human Dracula was born. And for some reason, all the guys seem to think they should break into every house on the block and steal, what, shoe laces? Nobody had money to buy anything worth something. I guess what I'm trying to say is that the people are crazy. So it didn't surprise me when my house suddenly became the target for breaking into. Kiya, Ben and I had just gotten home from walking in the park. Where we lived, the closest thing we could find to a park was a trash dump. Anyway, I was making sandwhiches for the younger two when I heard the front door close. No one lived in the house but us. I peeked around the corner just enough to see who had gotten in. And I gotta say, this one was beautiful. He was dressed head to toe in black, with eyes so dark, they'd put the nighttime skies to shame. It wasn't like what you'd expect him to look like. Instead of a beanie and gloves, he wore a green flat bill and his hands were bare. His whole arms were bare actually. He had on a wife beater. Around his neck he wore a simple silver chain, and on his finger was a silver ring, with a single black stripe across it. Definately not something you'd expect from some one around here. As soon as I saw him, I told Kiya and Ben to go hide upstairs. However, the stairs were across the house, in plain view of the robber. I took a risk. We ran across the room and headed for the stairwell. I wasn't even paying attention to him as we ran. I just kept the kids infront of me, keeping them safe. But about halfway up, he grabbed me from behind and pulled me down the stairs. And then he just stood there. For like twenty minutes he stood in the exact same spot. At first I thought he was paralyzed, and eventually I decided to go watch a movie. Then he turned around and asked me, "Got any hot chocolate?" He left after a while, and I put the kids to sleep. I had no idea what the purpose of his visit was. He didn't take anything, didn't even drink the cocoa when I gave it to him. Come to think of it, I'm not sure why I gave it to him in the first place, but whatever. I thought that would be the last time I'd see him, but how wrong I was! That very next day, he broke in again, while I was in the library. Yes, the library inside of my house. Again I told my siblings to hide, again the robber did nothing. He just walked around the house, occasionally sitting in random chairs. After a few hours I learned to ignore him. But just as he was leaving, I asked, "Why are you here?" I got a cold look, and he responded, "Don't make me lie to you." (I've been watching Prison Break too much.) And then he left. He kept visiting the next few days, and I always asked him the same question as he was leaving. Everyday he answered the same way, until one night he surprised me by saying, "I'm kidnapping you." Yeah, I didn't understand either. But that morning, I was smart enough to lock the door. Why I hadn't thought of that earlier still makes me want to pee my pants, because I have no idea. Anyway, it was no use. He smashed the window with a hammer. A purple hammer, and I don't know where it came from. Then he simply hopped through the window like a little bunny. Angry with myself, I went to my bedroom. He followed me. "So, what's your name?" I asked him. Because I was bored. "Edward." "Your name's Edward?" I said. "No," he replied. I was so frustrated. "Then what's your name?" "My favorite part was when Edward died." I think he was referring to Twilight, but I'm not a fan, so I can't be sure. Does Edward die? Giving up, I told him, "You do realize it isn't considered kidnapping if you don't take me out of the house, right? Especially since this is my house, not yours." And then, out of the blue, a bald, fat Chinese guy came up behind this Edward dude, and hit him over the head with a wooden chair leg. He was bleeding pretty bad, but that's not what I cared about. His ring flew across the room, and I picked it up. "I'm keeping this." I said. The guy never came around again. Somehow, after that, I ended up in an outhouse making crafts with my cousin, an old neighbor, and my grandma. One thing I don't understand, is why I never called the police. I had a phone. Well, it was just a dream, so whatever.

I remember when I remember, I remember when I lost my mind There was something so pleasant about that place Even your emotions have an echo in so much space And when you're out there, without care Yeah, I was out of touch But it wasn't because I didn't know enough I just knew too much Does that make me crazy? Does that make me crazy? Does that make me crazy? Possibly And now that you are having the time of your life Well think twice That's my only advice Come on now, who do you Who do you, who do you Who do you think you are? Ha ha ha, bless your soul You really think you're in control? Well, I think you're crazy I think you're crazy I think you're crazy Just like me My heroes have the heart To lose their lives out on a limb And all I remember, is thinking I want to be like them Mmhmm Ever since I was little Ever since I was little it looked like fun And it's no coincidence I've come And I can die when I'm done Maybe I'm crazy Maybe you're crazy Maybe we're crazy Probably

When I was little, my parents would work a lot, so they'd leave me with the neighbors when they were gone. Drake and Billy were only nineteen at the time--not the best choice for sitters, but they would be the only ones home, and they were great with kids. I remember they'd take me up into the mountains--they're EXTREMELY agile--and they'd swing from branch to branch just to make me happy--I was in love with Tarzan as a kid, still am. Unfortunately, they moved away, but they couldn't live in that old house for much longer anyway. Now there are three little girls that mean the world to me, and it's my turn to make to even the smallest difference in their lives. Rayne, Kayla, and Adreanna--it's time to play Tarzan!

I have told this story time and time again. I am NOT suicidal! It was St. Patrick's day, I pinched a girl for not wearing green. Turns out, she had on green under her hoodie. She took the pinch offensively and viciously sliced my wrist with the top to a very sharp pencil. I have never--and I don't plan on it--cut in my life! I just kind of stood there in the middle of the room and looked at that girl like, "Did you really just do that?" Meanwhile Lace--another friend of mine--is cracking up, and my teacher is screaming at me for getting blood on the floor--which is carpet. Anyway, just clearing that up. It's not a scar from cutting. It's revenge of Greenless.

I've from several different sources that if your legs are cold, your leg hair will grow much faster. It gave me an idea. We should find a man--clown, maybe--that has adnormally large feet and stick him in a freezer--the big kind. Every day--three times a day--a person will bring this "bigfoot" food and drinks. Don't worry. A toilet will be installed, as will a bed. We won't leave him in there long enough for him to get sick or anything--just long enough for his leg hairs to make him look like Bigfoot's half brother.

My cousin just posted a video of me dancing and rapping to Super Bass. She won't take it off:/

I hate it when people ask me who I want to be, or what I want in life, because I never know what to say to them. Honestly--I don't know.

I'm 14 years old. I come from a place that can literally suck the life out of you. Where hesitation is fear, and fear is a weakness--one that can and will be taken advantage of. You have to know how to survive, and who to trust. That means doing what you have to do--no matter the consequences.