First things first…: My journal is not a fandom-only journal. I do post about my life often, about whatever interests me at that particular moment. Most of it is public with the exceptional, too personal locked posts. I’m not picky when it comes to friending—if we have things in common, I’ll usually add you back unless I see it’s an empty/brand new journal. If you drop me a line and let me know why you’ve added me, it will be quicker for me to friend you back. Also, I don’t delete anyone from my friends’ list unless they delete me. The main thing I ask is that please DO NOT TAKE MY WRITING AND PHOTOS WITHOUT PERMISSION.

The short autobiography: Ever since the Queen of Sorrows bit my tongue when I was 5, I've been mute. A year later, I slipped and fell inside an ice cream cone and broke my legs, hoping to stick my tongue onto the big ball of chocolate. At 7, after my teacher decided I had learned how to read, she painted my white apple bright red and my cheeks have been the matching color ever since. At 8, the numbers cursed me because I called them stupid and couldn't add or subtract or multiply or divide them. That caused my father to start calling me stupid because I kept failing at math ever since. Rest of elementary school is a big blur.

When I was 12, Kurt Cobain died, and I felt jealous of someone for the first time in my life for he set sail to the greatest adventure of all, and I was left behind. At 13, I went to Bulgaria for a skiing trip with my father, his friends and my sister. The owners of the restaurant we ate at gave me a big, round plastic tray to sit on, and then they pushed me off. I ended up flying onto the street from the edge of the hill, and everyone thought I was dead for certain. I just got up, found my glasses and said, "I wanna go again!" This was the first time I saw panic in my father's eyes.

Age 14 was the first time I danced under the rain because I forgot my keys and couldn't get inside our apartment. I was bored and wet, and the raindrops wouldn't stop burning my skin if I stood still, so I danced and danced until my mom came home. She couldn't give me a reason for why rain is supposed to be bad, so whenever I danced with the raindrops again, I made sure she didn't know about it. At 15, I wanted to really die for the first time, but when I found out that my blood tasted like gummy bears, I screamed for band-aids.

The rest, again, is a big blur, which I'll live and tell.

(C)2007. SIMAY YILDIZ.

Links & where else you can find me: hauntedlaundry.org is my website I share with my sister. We update whenever we have something worth showing, and you can browse through the catergories to see what we have so far. Other sites you can find me at are as follows:






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