Post by JILLIAN JEZEBEL THORPE on Mar 15, 2010 17:13:12 GMT -5
FULL NAME: jillian jezebel thorpe[/blockquote][/font]
NICKNAMES: she most goes by jj, but old friends and family call her jilly.
AGE & BIRTHDAY: 16 & october third
HOMETOWN: chicago, illinois
ILLNESSES: schizophreniform disorder and selective mutism
SEXUALITY: bisexual
MEMBER GROUP: sophomore
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WHO ARE THE FOLKS? DID THEY RAISE YOU RIGHT? OR IGNORE YOU FOR YOUR SIBLINGS?
the folks? oh! you mean my parents. mister and misses douglas thorpe are my parents. you probably haven't ever heard of them - unless you are from the windy city. my dad's face is plastered all over the city. he is a real estate agent so yes, he has those cheesy bench ads. yes, you can place your ass on my dads face. wow! i can't believe i just said that. as for my mom, katrina thorpe, she is a dermatologist, so she is pretty well-known in chicago too. my parents are good people, average, it wasn't until i got diagnosed that i found out that they aren't my birth parents. the doctor asked if the disorders ran in the family. that's when the truth unraveled. i was adopted at birth. i have no yearning to meet my birth mother. she was most likely some mentally unstable woman who passed on her deformed genes to me and then left. who needs that? i have too many problems already.
i was raised right, i suppose. i learned that people were all created equally. i was forced to be an alter girl at st. peter's church in chicago. a good long day's work was encouraged, as was independent thinking. my disorders is not a result of my family upbringing, unlike some of the nuts around here. did that sound mean? i didn't mean it to sound mean... it's just true.
i was raised as an only child. the reason my parents didn't have any other kids is because they couldn't. they adopted me and then they stopped. one was enough. more than enough. they sent me here didn't they?
I HEARD FROM A LITTLE BIRDY THAT YOU CAN BE A BITCH. IS THIS TRUE? WHAT IS YOUR PERSONALITY REALLY LIKE?
i wouldn't say i can be a bitch. a bitch would imply that i would be consciously choosing to be mean, it's just - it's just - when i go into my phases, i don't know what is going to happen. i don't know if i'm going to hurt myself, others, stop talking for a week, be so scared of the government finding me that i hid in the closet for seventy-two hours straight, or be so impulsive i sleep with a stranger. it's not me being a bitch - i can't control myself. i'd like to apologize for anything i could potentially do in the future. you - i - i try so - it's not my fault.
oh my, i went silent again, didn't i? people think i'm conceited or ignoring them. at times, i can't help it but my selective mutism takes over my body. it's as if i have so much to say and the words are building up inside of my head yet i can't get them out. i try to explain it to people as soon as i meet them so if it ever happens they will understand. i warn people right away about all of my disorders. if they are going to get scared away, it's better for it to happen right away.
i'd like to think i'm a kind person, caring, humble, funny, but i always end up second guessing myself when i scare those i love away. i mean, my parents sent me away and they were the ones who loved me so much they adopted me right away, signing the papers without even knowing my name yet.
WHAT'S YOUR PASSION IN LIFE? WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO WITH YOUR LIFE?
this may sound silly, but my passion is painting. there is something about it that just inspires me. when it's just me, a canvas, and a palettes of paint, it doesn't matter what my diag-non-sense is. no one cares why i'm not talking to them. they see the portrait taking place before them and it no longer matters.
if i had it my way, i'd get out of this place, go to a big fancy art school, and go away to an arts college after that. be the new jasper johns, frieda kahlo, or georgia o'keefe. but the chances of that happening? slim to none.
another thing i'd love to do with my life would be find love, have kids, and get married. but the chances of that happening? slim to none. who could ever love this?
NAME/ALIAS: CC[/blockquote][/font]
AGE: sixteen years young, bby.
EXPERIENCE: two and a half - three years
TIMEZONE: eastern
ANYTHING ELSE: the site is just gorgeous.
THE SCHEDULE OF TYLER PATRICK MARTINI HAD BEEN SLIGHTLY PUT OFF. HE HAD BEEN TAKING ON MORE RESPONSIBILITY AT HEATWAVE, CLOSING AND OPENING THE SHOP ON FIVE OUT OF SEVEN DAYS. HE HAD BEEN TRYING TO KEEP UP WITH HIS ART, RECENTLY FINISHING A OILS PORTRAIT AND CONTINUING ON HIS TECHNIQUE WITH SIMPLE GESTURAL DRAWING, AND HE HAD BEEN TRYING TO STAY IN CONTACT WITH HIS FAMILY, SINCE HIS MOTHER HAD BEGUN TO CALL AND NAG. THE MOST SUBSTANTIAL CHANGE IN TYLER'S DAILY SCHEDULE WOULD BE THE ADDITION OF BELLADONNA AGOSTO, THE WOMAN WHO HAD BECOME ENTANGLED IN ALL OF HIS ACTIONS. WHEN HE WAS PAINTING, HE THOUGHT OF BELLA. WHEN HE WAS AT HOME, HE WONDERED WHY HE WAS ALONE. WHEN HE WAS AT WORK, HE WAS COUNTED THE MINUTES UNTIL HE COULD GET OFF OR GET BACK BEHIND THE COUNTER ON THE LAPTOP. THE PRESENCE OF BELLA IN ALL OF HIS THOUGHT PROCESSES WAS SOMETHING THAT WOULD CONCERN MOST BUT TO TYLER, IT WAS A BLESSING. FOR THE FIRST TIME IN WHAT SEEMED LIKE YEARS, TYLER HAD TRUE LIFE TO HIM. HE WAS LAUGHING, JOKING, LIVING, DARING, AND EXPERIENCING THINGS LIKE NEVER BEFORE.
SUCH A CHANGE IN ROUTINE COULD BE WEARING TO ONE'S BODY, WITH INCREASED WORK IN EVERY AREA OF HIS LIFE, RECREATION, WORK, AND SOCIAL, TYLER WAS FINDING HIMSELF TIRED. AND ON THAT PARTICULAR MORNING, TYLER WAS COMPLETELY UNCONCIOUS. IF ONE HADN'T BEEN PAYING SO MUCH ATTENTION, THEY WOULD THINK HHIS BARELY BREATHING BODY WAS DEAD INSTEAD OF ASLEEP. HIS ARMS AND LEGS WERE SPRAWLED OUT ON HIS SMALL BED AND HIS FACE TURNED SIDEWAYS INTO THE PILLOW. HE HAD BBEEN HAVING A SURREAL DREAM OF PARIS, BEARS, AND SOMETHING ABOUT HELLO KITTY, BUT AS SOON AS HE CAME TO, ALL MEMORY OF THE DREAM WAS FORGOTTEN. THE THING THAT WOKE HIM WAS NOT BELLA'S VOICE BUT WAS WHEN SHE SAT DAINTILY ON HIS THIGHS. TYLER SLOWLY OPENED HIS EYES TO SEE BELLA'S LONG SUN-BLEACHED LOCKS FALLING DOWN TOWARDS HIM. HE BEGAN HEARING WHAT SHE SAID AFTER THE STATEMENT OF “SERIOUS SUGGESTION FOR YOU.” HIS OWN SHAGGY BLACK HAIR MUST HAD BEEN A PURE MESS DUE TO THE FACT THAT BELLA BEGAN PUSHING THE HAIR OUT OF HIS EYES. A LARGE YAWN DEAFENED ALL NOISE FOR TYLER FOR ANOTHER DAY BUT HE WAS DONE BY THE TIME BELLA STARTED SPEAKING AGAIN. “IF YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO DO TODAY, YOU SHOULD BLOW IT OFF. PLAY HOOKIE WITH ME. IT FEELS LIKE SUMMER OUTSIDE, IT COULD BE THE PERFECT DAY.”
TYLER'S MIND BEGAN ANALYZING ALL THE RESPONSIBILITIES HE HAD FOR THE DAY. HE WAS DUE TO WORK FROM TWO TO EIGHT BUT THE MORE TYLER THOUGHT ABOUT IT THE MORE HE REALIZED HE MIGHT BE ABLE TO WEASEL HIS WAY OUT OF IT. TYLER HAD NEVER MISSED A DAY OF WORK AND HAD BEEN RECENTLY PICKING UP SHIFTS, DOING MORE INVENTORY THAN ASKED OF HIM, AND OPENING AND CLOSING THE SHOP. IF TYLER'S BOSS DIDN'T REALIZE THAT HE DESERVED A “SICK” DAY, HE MUST BE CRAZY. “I HAVE WORK,” TYLER STATED, LOOKING UP TO BELLA WHO WAS STILL SITTING ON HIS LAP. HE EXHALED A LARGE BREATH WHICH BLEW SEVERAL OF BELLA'S LONG LOCKS OF HAIR OUT IN DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS. “I CAN GET OUT OF IT THOUGH,” HE CONTINUED ON, KNOWING THAT HE WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN ABLE TO SAY NO TO BELLA'S DAY OF PLAYING HOOKIE WHETHER HE HAD WANTED TO OR NOT.
STILL HALF ASLEEP, TYLER LOOKED AROUND THE ROOM, WHICH WAS IN A STATE OF DISARRAY. HE ANALYZED HIS ROOM, THE LIGHT SHINING IN THROUGH THE WINDOW, AND BELLA SITTING ON HIS LAP. HE WAS OBVIOUS TO WHAT TIME IT WAS AND HOW LONG BELLA HAD BEEN THERE. THE MORE HE THOUGHT ABOUT IT, HE HADN'T EVEN REMEMBERED UNLOCKING THE DOOR THE PREVIOUS NIGHT. “HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HERE?” HE ASKED CURIOUSLY BEFORE SHOOTING OUT ANOTHER QUESTION, “DID YOU NINJA YOUR WAY IN, OR DID I FORGET TO LOCK IT AGAIN?”
SUCH A CHANGE IN ROUTINE COULD BE WEARING TO ONE'S BODY, WITH INCREASED WORK IN EVERY AREA OF HIS LIFE, RECREATION, WORK, AND SOCIAL, TYLER WAS FINDING HIMSELF TIRED. AND ON THAT PARTICULAR MORNING, TYLER WAS COMPLETELY UNCONCIOUS. IF ONE HADN'T BEEN PAYING SO MUCH ATTENTION, THEY WOULD THINK HHIS BARELY BREATHING BODY WAS DEAD INSTEAD OF ASLEEP. HIS ARMS AND LEGS WERE SPRAWLED OUT ON HIS SMALL BED AND HIS FACE TURNED SIDEWAYS INTO THE PILLOW. HE HAD BBEEN HAVING A SURREAL DREAM OF PARIS, BEARS, AND SOMETHING ABOUT HELLO KITTY, BUT AS SOON AS HE CAME TO, ALL MEMORY OF THE DREAM WAS FORGOTTEN. THE THING THAT WOKE HIM WAS NOT BELLA'S VOICE BUT WAS WHEN SHE SAT DAINTILY ON HIS THIGHS. TYLER SLOWLY OPENED HIS EYES TO SEE BELLA'S LONG SUN-BLEACHED LOCKS FALLING DOWN TOWARDS HIM. HE BEGAN HEARING WHAT SHE SAID AFTER THE STATEMENT OF “SERIOUS SUGGESTION FOR YOU.” HIS OWN SHAGGY BLACK HAIR MUST HAD BEEN A PURE MESS DUE TO THE FACT THAT BELLA BEGAN PUSHING THE HAIR OUT OF HIS EYES. A LARGE YAWN DEAFENED ALL NOISE FOR TYLER FOR ANOTHER DAY BUT HE WAS DONE BY THE TIME BELLA STARTED SPEAKING AGAIN. “IF YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO DO TODAY, YOU SHOULD BLOW IT OFF. PLAY HOOKIE WITH ME. IT FEELS LIKE SUMMER OUTSIDE, IT COULD BE THE PERFECT DAY.”
TYLER'S MIND BEGAN ANALYZING ALL THE RESPONSIBILITIES HE HAD FOR THE DAY. HE WAS DUE TO WORK FROM TWO TO EIGHT BUT THE MORE TYLER THOUGHT ABOUT IT THE MORE HE REALIZED HE MIGHT BE ABLE TO WEASEL HIS WAY OUT OF IT. TYLER HAD NEVER MISSED A DAY OF WORK AND HAD BEEN RECENTLY PICKING UP SHIFTS, DOING MORE INVENTORY THAN ASKED OF HIM, AND OPENING AND CLOSING THE SHOP. IF TYLER'S BOSS DIDN'T REALIZE THAT HE DESERVED A “SICK” DAY, HE MUST BE CRAZY. “I HAVE WORK,” TYLER STATED, LOOKING UP TO BELLA WHO WAS STILL SITTING ON HIS LAP. HE EXHALED A LARGE BREATH WHICH BLEW SEVERAL OF BELLA'S LONG LOCKS OF HAIR OUT IN DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS. “I CAN GET OUT OF IT THOUGH,” HE CONTINUED ON, KNOWING THAT HE WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN ABLE TO SAY NO TO BELLA'S DAY OF PLAYING HOOKIE WHETHER HE HAD WANTED TO OR NOT.
STILL HALF ASLEEP, TYLER LOOKED AROUND THE ROOM, WHICH WAS IN A STATE OF DISARRAY. HE ANALYZED HIS ROOM, THE LIGHT SHINING IN THROUGH THE WINDOW, AND BELLA SITTING ON HIS LAP. HE WAS OBVIOUS TO WHAT TIME IT WAS AND HOW LONG BELLA HAD BEEN THERE. THE MORE HE THOUGHT ABOUT IT, HE HADN'T EVEN REMEMBERED UNLOCKING THE DOOR THE PREVIOUS NIGHT. “HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HERE?” HE ASKED CURIOUSLY BEFORE SHOOTING OUT ANOTHER QUESTION, “DID YOU NINJA YOUR WAY IN, OR DID I FORGET TO LOCK IT AGAIN?”
