I am the one who waits each day for that days surrender. I await the night, with its breif escape from the prison of my lonely need. I can feel the blood coursing through your veins, like a rushing wave on distant shore. I can hear your heart beating, like a constant ticking in my ears that counts out each hour of our seperation and each second of my longing for our perfect union. O that I must wait, for night's release and for your love's sweet surrender... I suppose I am gothic,at least that is what I am described as most often. I am dark,generally depressed,and mostly cynical towards everything. I generally keep to myself,but actually enjoy the company of a few others. mostly i am either working or with my fiancee;Christina. She is a pierced and tattooed freak, just as I am. I love to paint and read.I also love to write. I write poetry and short stories mostly. I am trying to quiet my mind enough to write an entire novel. I haven't painted in some time, but, am starting to get back into it. I also have not written anything of substance in awhile.I have been writting recently though, so we'll see what comes of that. I live with Christina in westbrook, ME. I want to move back to England someday,but,am happy in the states for now. I love to go to clubs to dance and, of course, drink. I am not too sure what else to say. I, honestly, don't give myself too much thought. I just do as I see fit. That seems to work for me. I spend most of my time concerned with others that I do not really think much on myself. I am just a damaged little fucker. I am a manic depressive, which tends to get in the way of most every relationship and many of the friendships I've had.That is just the way it is; I do not blame the ones who left my life. That is just the option they choose. I choose to leave at times to better the lives of those I knew I was hurting or would hurt eventually. In the end they are better off with out me dragging them into hell. I was born and lived in England untill I was 14 years old. Then I moved to the states to live with my adoptive family. Eventually,when I was 16, I took off and tried to make my way on my own. For the most part I have done so and lived by my own terms ever since. From time to time I went back to the family and asked for some help, but that was very rarely. In the end I guess I am just better off doing my thing; my way. I tend to hurt myself from time to time. I have been known to smash my head against walls and door jambs or bath tubs. I burn my self, stick myself with pins or needles, scratch myself, cut myself, and a host of other things. The rub of it is that I don't always know that I am or have done theese things. I usually just slip away and sort of "sleep" when I wake I hurt in some physical way and can not remember exactly why. Then I figure it out and in the end I do feel better, sort of. I know it hurts the people close to me so I try to stop it from happening as to keep them from being effected by it. I love being out in cemetaries. They make me feel somethimg that I can not truly explain. I feel solem and alone and I can concentrate on me and life when I am there. It is like I see death and realize that things could be worse. I feel quiet and that seeps into my brain and quiets it as well. I love the old slate stones and the writing and phrazing on them. The art work is also facinating. I have found few people who can understand what I mean. Though I know many people who love cemetaries, few get what I mean when I say that I go to remember what others have forgotten.