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My name is Amythe.
You can call me Chris.
You can call me Christopher.
You can call me Amythe.
Do not call me Topher. Or Amy.
On that note, calling me "the" might be a little weird, too.
Chris, or "You in the back with your hand on your hat", will suffice.
This is the third time I've written this.
And I've meant it all three times.
All the words I write in these REALLY long About Me's
Are true.
I don't lie.
Well, I lied when I said I don't lie
But these aren't lies.
So settle in
Get comfy
and read on.
I have a few accounts on Gaia
And the first of which was created on 9/24/04.
You can check me on that. The name was Amythe.
So, give me five months, and I'll be.
Ready?
5 years wasted on this site.
********.
I am nineteen years old.
19.
Dix-neuf.
I went to Florida International University for a while.
It's in Miami.
Miami is a great place.
Full of broken dreams and hatred.
I moved back home, though.
Because I suck.
So, now, I go to the University of Central Florida.
And I'm majoring in Aerospace Engineering.
That's right boys and girls.
You're reading about the life of a Rocket Scientist
It is April 19th as I am writing this.
I am currently listening to Two Gallants - Waves of Grain.
This song always gets me going.
Sometimes I dance.
Sometimes I cry.
Right now is a time for the latter.
I am procrastinating an essay I need to write.
It's due in 36 hours.
Could be worse.
But I wish I had a better topic.
Of course I had to be me.
And choose the topic of suicide.
When you're as unstable as me
It's not a good idea to write about suicides on college campuses.
Cutting. Burning. Scraping. Punching. Gouging. Starving.
Enough is enough.
I'm questing to be purple.
Purple is my favorite color.
And I'm a third of the way there.
And here are a few of the people who have donated.
Whom I appreciate dearly.
Dreamer Rem
DJ Twissta
Princess_Halcyone
Blitzkrieg Beauty
i have no identity
Almond Scented Cyanide
noctepanther
`CandiCane
Morrigan smiles

I'm a musician.
I'm a flute player first. A composer second.
But I'm wonderful at both.
I've written orchestral masterpieces, and avant-garde beauties.
Not like anyone will believe me.
My computer crashed half a year ago
With all 350 songs I've ever written.
My favorite bands are Joanna Newsom and Agalloch.
My favorite song is by Battle of Mice.
My favorite genre of music is post-rock.
My favorite author is Chuck Palahniuk.
My favorite book is Diary.
My favorite movie is The Tracey Fragments
My favorite artfilm is Waking Life.
My favorite drug film is Spun.
I ******** love Andrew Lloyd Webber.
I have an amazing girlfriend.
She lives in Illinois.
I love her.
I'm going to visit her in July.
Wish me luck.
I'm pretty destructive.
I'm 5'11 and 141 lbs, just over 10 stone.
I cut.
I'm obsessive.
I'm clingyloving
I skip meals, and barely eat when I don't.
Help me.
Save me.
Love me.
I hate me.
I'm different.
I'm probably weird, too.
But different is a better word.
I need to stick out.
I need to be better.
Or I will plunge deep, deep
deep.
Into a dark place.
I can't be just like anyone else.
I just can't
I own a dog collar.
And a few other collars.
But the dog collar is the most important to me.
It's black, with gold studs.
I bought it from a pet place.
And I enjoy wearing it.
It makes me feel owned.
Like someone else is taking care of me.
I hate being alone in this world.
I miss being held.
I miss being touched.
I miss being loved.
I miss being missed.
I like cartoons.
And I hate elitists who think that all cartoons suck now.
There are plenty of good cartoons now.
You just have to look.
And realize, you're not a kid anymore.
Rockos Modern Life wasn't that good.
It just seemed good when you were 10.
I lied.
Surprised?
Not ALL of this is completely rewritten.
I always salvage some things from my old about me.
Things that I would add anyway.
Just saves me time.
Time is our most scarce resource, you know.
When there comes a time that I'm not needed by the people around me
I'll probably off myself.
I really don't care about my own life
The only reason I'm still alive is because I know what suicide can do to someone
The people it affects
And I don't want to put that on my loved ones.
Unfortunately, I'm scared of therapists.
And therapist offices.
It's just weird.
They're weird.
I've been arrested.
It was a ******** stupid charge.
It was a ******** stupid jail cell.
It was a ******** stupid night.
It was a ******** stupid reason.
It was a ******** stupid lawyer.
It was a ******** stupid law.
It was a ******** stupid judge.
The charge was Lewd and Lascivious Molestation on a Minor, because my ex-girlfriend's father wanted to ruin my life when I was 17.
The charges were dropped by the state after four months of spending time in the legal system.
I was on house arrest for a week.
It sucks more than you think.
Don't say you're sorry, because you're not.
Don't say it's dumb, because I know it was.
Don't mention it. It's not worth my time.
You're not worth my time.
If you are, please talk to me.
Actually, you can mention it.
The more I think about it
The more I'm okay talking about it.
If there's anything you want to know about that^
Go ahead and ask.
Maybe I just say that because I love PMs
And/or comments.
Because I really do.

I'm not arrogant.
Okay, I lied.
Surprised?
But I'm only arrogant because I have to be.
I have such low self-worth
Such low self-esteem
That if I'm not arrogant
If I'm not 100% sure of myself
100% of the time
I'll fall into a deep, dank place.
I'm a picky eater
And I've never,
EVER
Eaten a salad.
I hate lettuce, onions, salad dressing, carrots, and celery.
But somehow I'm a skinny ********?
I know, most people hate me too.
I blame not eating.
Wouldn't you?
I ride a motorcycle.
I live life on the edge.
Wanna see it?
Here.
I'm afraid.
Knocks on my door.
Teachers calling my name.
My phone ringing.
One of these times, it's going to be more than just a friendly chat.
It's going to be my biggest fear.
I was devistatingly wrong at something.
I need to get over my fear, I suppose.
Won't you help?
You should comment or PM if you've gotten this far.
Wouldn't it be a waste if you don't?
I'm not mean. I promise.
I'm naturally a sweetheart.
I just need some place to let my inner emotions.
My self-mutilating, anger-filled, destructive insides need a place to vent.
I let myself loose in my about me's
They're my way of getting all my thoughts on paper.
At least I'm not like Nietzsche with some syphilis bullshit
Or this would be about how much I hate all of you.
Good thing I'm physically well.

...

For now.
For now.
For now