Stephanie

My cat had kittens three weeks ago. Three of them eat just fine and the other one refuses to.. I'll put her near him near his mother and he refuses to take her nipple. She still licks him and cares for him. I don't know what to do about it and I'm afraid he might die. I'm about to go to the store. I don't know what to get, exactly. What can I do to save this kitten? I really don't want him to die, he's already the sweetest. He'll move to me to be petted, even though he is very weak. I had to gently remove the crust from his eyes a few days ago so that he could see and he licked my finger as I did it, like he was thankful.

I am having a online order shipped to my house, and instead of Ct., I mistakenly put Cir.

Will UPS figure it out? There's no street with the name + Cir in my city, so I'm hoping they will.

Help? Do they usually assume like this?

I have severe depression, and along with it, anxiety. I hadn't even known it was possible to have both at once, but hey, I've left the diagnosis to the pros.

Anyway, I've taken medication for these before(zoloft). I didn't like how they made me feel, so I simply stopped taking them.

I don't exactly know why I don't want to take medications.

I think I might not even want to get better. I don't really mind being depressed... Depression is the feeling I'm most used to, most comfortable with, even; I've known it all my life. But I'm worried that it might have a negative effect on my life in the long run.

When I take the medicine, I consciously realize that my attitude and feelings toward things are significantly different than usual. I don't like that. When I took the medication, my responses to questions and reactions to things were much more quick than they were before, and I really made a lot of decisions I regretted as a result of speedy replies. I usually take a few seconds to think about my answer to a question.

So what can really happen if I don't treat my depression?

Over the past few months, I have been having a number of unusual dreams. They're always violent and upsetting.

I am only wondering what they might mean because lately, I have been reading some of C.G. Jung's writings and I find them fascinating. I never thought of it before, but it makes sense that dreams reflect our real lives. I only want to understand what these dreams mean, because thinking back on them has been confusing to me. Anyway, I'll explain two of them and hope for an explanation.

When I was a child, my mother used to send me to summer camp every year so that she wouoldn't have to put up with me. I'm not sure if that's related at all, but I don't know; it might mean something.

In the first dream, the one that annoys me the most, this is what happened:

I was standing between columns of shelves. They were spaced out evenly, the way you might see them spread out in a library. But it was very very dirty, and everything was covered in sand. I don't remember what sort of place I was in, only that there were walls made of some material-- maybe plastic-- keeping me from leaving. On the shelves were ugly things, enormous insects(they weren't moving, they might have even been dead), and objects in jars. Inside the jars were things that looked like human body parts, or organs, something of the sort. Between the shelves on my left and right were cots, like I remember sleeping on when I was a child at camp. The cots were messy, and some of them had skeletons and decaying children on them. I was running forward through the shelves, and when I felt like I might have been free, there was a huge shelf with dead things on it. Even though there were no more shelves to my left or right, and no more walls, I felt upset as if I knew I would never leave.

Then I woke up.

When I went back to sleep, I had another dream:

This one doesn't make sense to me at all, because I'm not a very violent person at all.

But in the dream, I was in a dark house. It was mine, or it seemed that way. There were windows, about two feet tall, that were on the floor by my feet. The walls were dark blue, almost black, as was the carpet. It was night time. There was a police officer speaking to me. He was interrogating me, asking about men, women, and children I had killed. Even though I knew I had done it, I denied it with a smirk. The police officer seemed very stupid, and believed every thing I said. And then, one of the windows by my feet opened, and a woman was trying to grab at my leg and was yelling at me, crying because I had killed her child. This seemed to anger me, so I kicked the woman's face. Then she melted(it was weird, but that's exactly what happened), I smiled, and continued to speak to the officer, who hadn't seemed to notice.

Anyway, that's what happened in both of my dreams. They're both pretty disturbing, like most of my dreams are. I can't even remember having a pleasant dream, ever.

I hope that they can be interpreted... Thank you :)

Although I doubt it, I haven't really done enough research to answer this question. I was just wondering. Does anyone know?

Okay, so I'm looking to buy a new desktop computer. The laptop I have right now isn't seeming to work very fast anymore... So I just figured I'd get a new computer, but I've decided I prefer desktops to laptops.

I plan on getting the computer from Best Buy, probably in-store, but online if I have to.

I know what I want out of a computer, but I'm not the most tech-savvy person you'll meet. So I'm not entirely sure how to get what it is I want. The problem is, I know if I ask the people at Best Buy they're going to try to sell me the most expensive computer in their inventory and tell me that to meet my needs I HAVE to buy that particular computer or the entire world will explode, and I'll have a crappy computer on top of that.

Anyway, I use my computer for lots of different things. I have a tendency to purchase games from the store, download them on my computer, get bored with them, uninstall them, download more, and the process repeats. So I figure I'm going to need a computer with a lots of hard drive space... I can also be a very impatient person, especially on a bad day. If you spy on me while I'm on the computer, and it's going too slow for my taste, you will find me yelling profanities at it. So it'll probably need to be pretty fast... I think that has to do with RAM memory, and I'm not sure if DDR2 or whatever is involved with that... Aside from the games, I also have papers, presentations, etc. to complete for school. I guess that's important to think about when looking at computers. There will be a lot of saving of a lot of files, basically. Another thing is that I like things to be pretty and can tend to be a perfectionist, which means the graphics on the computer have to be super duper clear and like that blurry stuff on the TV(that thing was worth the money), so the screen size and resolution need to be pretty great.

Basically, I just need help clearing up the whole hard drive thing, what amount of memory would be a good choice, and what does a computer have that makes it go fast and how the whole graphics thing works.

And a link to a best buy computer that matches those would be fantastic ;)

People have their roles in life. They answer questions and they DO things, whether for themselves or for others, they do things.

What the hell kind of life are we living?

We sleep, eat, make it through the day. We die.

The feelings we have are always temporary, no matter what a person thinks or says nothing ever totally lasts. But we do hope, we have hope and that's probably the only things we can hold on to, if we can manage. It's hard.

What happens to our hope when we die? Is it gone, for good? Was it ever really there? Is it only a personal thing that only you, being yourself, know? Or does it live on through others who you've shared that hope with?

Also, why do we brush things off and think they're okay? We try to come up with reasons and excuses but I just don't see the point. Things are the way they are, and that's it. So why do we feel the need to support everything we feel or see with some sort of explanation or excuse? Why is it so hard for us to live?

If we had nothing to feel, would anything matter?

Is there really anyone that can answer these questions?

I weigh 122.4 lbs and I'm about 5'6 tall. I'm nineteen years old.

(: Thanks

i wrote a poem. Is it good? :]

The sky met our earth

in a sea

of pinks and blues

and yellows

a beautiful sea that some

might

think of as

the horizon, the set of the sun

The whisper of the sky's lips

his caress against her

grassy plains;

against her

sapphire oceans,

never missing

the silent warmth

of her gentle,

tiny curves.

The white-hot touch

that aroused

sleeping monsters

creatures of the night

and that

gave our earth

her courage

to thrive; gave her

the thing she needed the most.

The whispers of

sweet nothings, murmurs

blown against the

colourful canvas that

shivered

the moment he

distanced himself

from our

earth's surface

taking

a

look at her

undeniable beauty;

the only time

her creatures

can't closely see

his heated expression,

the clouds

in his eyes, becoming nearly

invisible

to us.

That night

in a chilled breath of air

the sky

himself

confessed to his earth

the incorruptible

love

that he felt for

her.

shivering and glowing

with his childish

anxiety,

our earth kissed her

beloved sky,

stirring a

fiery flush of reds

and orange and yellows

against his cheek

warming him

enhancing his warm,

nervous radiance.

They share their feelings now,

occasionally expressing

their unconditional love for one

another,

keeping promises,

never parting,

becoming closer, even

when the

sky cries on the shoulder of

his dear love,

our earth.

his earth.

How is he linked into Georgia's history?

Also, what awards or achievements did he recieve?

Info or links would be helpful :)

I wrote a poem, because I feel terrible. My boyfriend's cheating on me, and he refuses to admit it. But I know. Anyway... critique would be nice.

Why did I do that, why did I pry?

Never have I so wanted to

simply shrivel up and die.

Why do I bother, why should I care?

Never have I felt as if

I was unable to breathe this air.

Why do I cry, what are these tears?

Never have I thought that

I'd been wasting all my years.

Why does it hurt, what pains are nigh?

Never have I wondered

who'd sob were I to die.

Why don't you hurt, why do you laugh?

Never have I ever guessed

You'd tear my heart in half.

But now I know it's different,

cause no thing you say to me

any longer seems fervent.

In my world

Smiles fall like leaves

In the winter cold

Death follows birth

No one can win

The game of life

Love is guarded

By hate or envy

Hearts break

Wealthy men glut

While poor children

Die of starvation

Children are murdered

Inside of the womb

Never given a chance

To see the light

It's not very good. It needs some editing. Lots of it, really. I just thought it'd be fun to post and see people's opinions. :)

I wrote a poem, I'm not sure if I like it or not. Any opinions, suggests, etc. would be wonderful. Thank you!

In this world where fear and terror are subject to reign,

Where cries of joy and agony are morosely inseparable,

There seems no way to silence this pain.

I do not mock you as I whisper,

There are no pleasantries you, in this life may gain.

Emotion gropes around inside of our souls, our hearts, our minds,

Leaving us to manage thoughts left inhumane.

We strive to control them, these treacherous voices so full of hate.

In this world where love flirts with aberration,

Every beating heart eventually ceases to fulfill its purpose.

Everything fades, decays, is, in the end, an illusion.

And as unknown gods look down upon us and smirk,

We suffer to cope with delusion, confusion, even adoration.

We silently writhe underneath their merciless grasp

But in the end, with their condonation,

We evacuate this place of love and of hate.

In this world where spirits sullenly wander,

Shrieks of the deceased linger beneath the drums of our ears,

Cries of children whose lives had been squandered,

Shrill laughter of those who watched them perish, helpless.

The sobs of those who think their lives are a blunder

They haunt us as we roam their earth, oh, they drive us mad!

Our congested minds are left no room to ponder...

We despise this place of death and of hate.

I was curious. My brother grabbed my cat by the skin on the back of her neck to pick her up and it scared me and I told him not to, even though I know that as a kitten, their mother does the same. It didn't SEEM to bother her, she's only five months old, but does anyone know whether this irritates them or not?

(: thanks!

What is the cheapest airline for trips that are urgent- like next day?

I'm not the greatest cook in the world, and I'm not afraid to admit it, so I have a question for anyone who is willing to answer.

Well, two actually.

1. It says to add vanilla. Is vanilla extract sufficient?

2. Is there a substitute for shortening? I heard Crisco would work, but I don't really like that fatty stuff... you know. And I'm wondering if I'll have to run to the stare and get some.

Thanks!!

I'm going to write more, but I was wondering- would you keep reading?

I suppose it all started around my fifteenth birthday.

See, it began as a dream. Well, dreams. No, not dreams. Nightmares. Disgusting, frightening, perverted nightmares. Every day I woke up screaming. Crying. Trembling, uncontrollably. The thing I saw... oh, the things I saw. Children, children. Their skin was ghostly white, and their eyes were filled with black. Their smiles were disturbing and thoughtful, stretching over gritted teeth. Their nails were long, dirty, and sharp. Their breath came in quick, labored gusts. Their fingers curled into their palms and violent, hungry noises rose from their throats. Their limbs were caked with dried blood, their clothes were tattered and torn and black. Sweat glued greasy hair to their pale, dirty foreheads.

There were four of them then, two male, two female. One of the females stood before the rest of them.

I hid behind a thick tree, grabbing at the bark. The only noises I heard were their snarls and the rapid beating of my own heart inside my ears. Their eyes scanned the surrounding vegetation, searching for something, something living that they smelled, I assumed. The beat of the heart I knew they could hear, but my feet were glued to the dirt beneath my toes, my nails would not extricate themselves from that tree even under my command. Their nostrils flared. The female at the head of the group turned to the left. To the right. She finally dropped into a crouched position, hands grabbing the dirt in front of her toes, showing no mercy to the critters that squirmed beneath her grasp. Her eyebrows knitted together in a frustrated way before she began moving around on her knees like a rabid animal. The other children stared naturally ahead, their lips moving quickly, speaking words unheard.

She stopped moving then. She stood up on her toes, posture perfect, aside from her neck, which hung limply against the skin beneath her collar bone. She turned on her toes, slowly. She stopped turning when her eyes found the tree behind which I stood. I whimpered a little, the grasp I had on the tree loosening, my fingers trembling. A cold sweat broke out over my body, and I did something reckless then, idiotic. My body took control over my mind, leaving me even more helpless, even more scared than I had previously felt. I was running. I was running faster than I ever had remembered. The ground flew from beneath the soles of my bare feet. I was aware of the violent cries that accompanied the sound of the feet pounding the ground behind me. They rang inside my head, picking carefully at whatever sanity was left in my mind. I knew they would be able to keep up with my pace, despite the speed that cause the greenery to divide around my in dizzying blurs. With every breath came a piercing pain. And I flew. But I was not naive. I knew that they were simply toying with me, enjoying the thrill of the hunt, laughing at the pathetic attempt that I, the prey, made at escaping the grasp that they had on my sanity, my heart, my soul itself.

I felt eyes on me. They engraved holes into my skull, bored into my very being, tickled the flesh on the back of my neck. Despite this, I would not slow. My tongue pressed dryly against the roof of my mouth. I was struggling to avoid the trees that slowly turned into shades of grays and purples and blues with the pursuit of the night. I then realized something. I was going to die. The realization came with the salty flavor of blood onto my tongue. I was afraid. Terrified. My body gave my mind the power it struggled to withhold, the power that I wish my body still possessed when I then stopped running and instead began sobbing uncontrollably, falling to my knees, giving up. I waited for it, my inevitable death. I felt bony fingers grasp my shoulders and gasped involuntarily. Fear chilled the layer of sweat that encased my body. I shivered. I felt a tingling at the base of my spine. My fingers reached up and wiped away a warm tear from my otherwise cold cheek. I looked down at my fingers then. T he tears there were tinged with blood. This, for some reason I can not understand, did not phase me. Nothing did, at that point, really. Not the clouds that began to conceal the moon, the stars, emphasize the coming darkness. Not the silence that now pounded against my eardrums...

I don't really know much about cats, but I recently just got one.

She's about five months old.

She likes to lay by my face. (lol)

When she lays there, I'll pet her.

When I pet her, she purrs.

Then, sometimes, she'll bite my face when I pet her.

She bites me sometimes on different places too, like my arms or legs.

She doesn't leave a mark, she just kind of pulls on my skin with her teeth.

I'm not entirely sure what this means, and I'm curious.

I'm not sure it means anything, but answers would be nice (:

Thanks!

I changed this story a little. It's not very great, I just put it together in about an hour, its just a beginning.

But tell me what you think.

Her head lay against a feather pillow. Her lids hid those eyes, those liquid blue eyes she used to lure in her prey. Her chest moved slightly with her steady breathing. She smiled as if she were having a pleasant dream. It seemed as though she was asleep.

She was not.

Maybe she was lost in thought. Maybe she was bored. How could I have known? All I knew was that she wasn't capable of sleep. Vampires don't sleep. We're not supposed to...

I wondered. "What are you thinking about?" I lifted a hand to caress the her pale cheek. Her skin was perfect, soft. My eyes traced her shape. curvy, but thin. A black dress was draped over her body, ebony against ivory. It was pretty, I supposed, but she looked better without it. The corners of my lips lifted with that thought.

She opened one eye, gifted me with a breathtaking smile. "Mortality." Her eyes closed once again. She put a finger to my lips. "Shush."

I grinned, waiting.

We waited like this for an hour. Then she rose.

"Ah. I wonder what being human is like." She giggled.

"I don't. What's so great about mortality, anyway? Mortals are so weak, so vulnerable... boring." My tone was teasing. I hoped.

"Mmm. But I might want oblivion. What's wrong with stupidity?" Her eyes burned into mine. If my heart had a beat, it would have been unsteady.

"I suppose you're right. Not understanding things could be so much easier..." I looked up to the ceiling, ten feet above my head. I marvelled at the paintings, the intricate designs. The detail never ceased to amaze me. I brought my gaze back to Anabelle's face. Anabelle's face...

Her eyes held mine. Her smile returned. "Nathanael. I am thirsty."

I bowed, lifted my arm. "Shall we?"

Her eyes flashed red with desire, her gaze became delightfully wicked for a moment so brief no human could have seen it. She took hold of my arm.

We exited the house in that fashion. I felt two of my teeth transform slowly into fangs. My throat burned. I yearned for the kill.

Within the next thirty minutes, Anabelle and I were becoming acquianted with a handul of men and women, mortal. They believed Anabelle to be my sister, nothing more. I had a simple plan.

I sat in between two women whose names I can not recall, they were of no real importance to me.

Anabelle had bewitched a large male.

I continued to flatter the women for as long as I could before I became bored. I leaned in, as if to whisper to one. I pressed my lips to her neck, breathing in her delicious smell. My cheek pressed against her neck; I could feel the blood pulsing through her veins. I moaned, she sighed.

I continued to tease her until I could take it no longer. Two of my teeth were now fangs. These I sunk into her neck.

My face buried into her neck, and she moaned this time. I only sucked harder. Her blood ran through me, pleased me. My mind didn't matter, my body took control.

I hunched over her neck, eyes closed, legs spread. Her cries only made this more enjoyable. Her warm blood heated my cold fingertips.

Finally I was finished... I had drunk her dry. She had died. I moved on to the next woman. She hadn't the slightest idea what had gone on between me and the other woman. I grinned, lunged for her throat...

Anabelle and I left the saloon satisfied. The corpses lay still in the booth we had shared, completely drained of their blood. It had been a good night. But Anabelle seemed distracted, disoriented; this was out of the ordinary for her. I asked her what was wrong, teased about the quality of the blood she'd drunk.

Her eyes held an unmistakable sadness. "Nathanael, I don't want to be a killer."

I felt my eyes widen. I had not expected this. "Well..."

Her head nestled againt me shoulder. "What if," She looked at our feet. "I could be human again. Oh, Nathanael, I don't want to be a murderer! We kill every night, without thinking, but what if we didn't have to? What if we could be like them?" Her head lifted. Her eyes looked at me with hope, the kind of hope a child had when she was given another chance to do something right, better.

I'm looking for a website where I can publish stories online.

Not fictionpress or fanfiction, because I don't want to wait 3 days after I register to post stories :\ Help?