About

Me.... Hmmm.... How does one describe ones self? Well for starters I am Chelsea Jade, I'm 17 and I am NOT Hispanic. I love animals, kids, reading, writing, drawing, and hanging with my friends. Everyone says I have an uplifting spirit and that I am very hyper most the time. I talk a lot so be warned. Um anything else you wish to know email me and I might tell you. ;)

Education

• St. Petersburg College
• Santa Rosa High School

Favorite saying

• "love is blind it sees nothingbut the good in ppl and thats y i love with my heart and nothing else the moon shines so brite each tme i see it i feel lite, so i stare all night, not sure of the day to come i climb in bed as i see the sun, while drifting into a peaceful slumber, my heart starts to wonder, in my dreams i see threw the steam, your love, imparteaid by a dove, but all to soon i am awaken by a sound that cant be mistaken, your voice calling my name sooo quickly i have came like inetals carved on a tree 4ver my love will stay with thee ♥ Read more: http://messaging.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=mail.readmessageV3&userID=376877194&type=Sent&messageID=96280338#ixzz13DGF0Jb0 Death of an Innocent I went to a party, Mom, I remembered what you said. You told me not to drink, Mom, So I drank soda instead. I really felt proud inside, Mom,The way you said I would.I didn't drink and drive, Mom,Even though the others said I should. I know I did the right thing, Mom,I know you are always right.Now the party is finally ending, Mom,As everyone is driving out of sight. As I got into my car, Mom,I knew I'd get home in one piece.Because of the way you raised me,So responsible and sweet. I started to drive away, Mom,But as I pulled out into the road,The other car didn't see me, Mom,And hit me like a load. As I lay there on the pavement, Mom,I hear the policeman say,"The other guy is drunk," Mom,And now I'm the one who will pay. I'm lying here dying, Mom...I wish you'd get here soon.How could this happen to me, Mom?My life just burst like a balloon. There is blood all around me, Mom,And most of it is mine.I hear the medic say, Mom,I'll die in a short time. I just wanted to tell you, Mom,I swear I didn't drink.It was the others, Mom.The others didn't think. He was probably at the same party as I.The only difference is, he drankAnd I will die. Why do people drink, Mom?It can ruin your whole life.I'm feeling sharp pains now.Pains just like a knife. The guy who hit me is walking, Mom,And I don't think it's fair.I'm lying here dyingAnd all he can do is stare. Tell my brother not to cry, Mom.Tell Daddy to be brave.And when I go to heaven, Mom,Put "Daddy's Girl" on my grave. Someone should have told him, Mom,Not to drink and drive.If only they had told him, Mom,I would still be alive. My breath is getting shorter, Mom.I'm becoming very scared.Please don't cry for me, Mom.When I needed you,you were always there. I have one last question, Mom.Before I say good bye.I didn't drink and drive,So why am I the one to die? Please, reduce avoidable injuries and deaths by distributing "The Drunk Driving Poem" at the times when drinking and driving is most likely to occur: • E-mail a copy of "The Drunk Driving Poem" to ten friends near Christmas and New Years Eve. • Send a copy of "The Drunk Driving Poem" to your local newspaper and ask them to print it the day or so before Super Bowl Sunday and other major sport championships. • Ask newspaper editors at your local high school to print a copy of "The Drunk Driving Poem" in the school newspaper before Homecoming and prom. • Post a copy of "The Drunk Driving Poem" on a bulletin board at work during the days leading up to the Fourth of July, Memorial Day, and Labor Day. Send a copy of "The Drunk Driving Poem" to leaders of the Greek system at your alma mater and ask that it be posted in fraternity and sorority houses during pledge time. Edgar Allan Poe The Raven [First published in 1845] Also by Edgar Allen Poe: Lenore Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.' Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore - For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating `'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door - Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; - This it is, and nothing more,' Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, `Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; - Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!' This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!' Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. `Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore - Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; - 'Tis the wind and nothing more!' Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door - Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door - Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, `Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven. Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore - Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door - Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as `Nevermore.' But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only, That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered - Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before - On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.' Then the bird said, `Nevermore.' Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, `Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore - Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore Of "Never-nevermore."' But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore - What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking `Nevermore.' This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. `Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! - Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted - On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore - Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore - Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting - `Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted - nevermore! Last update: October 4, 2007 by H. Behme Please send comments, suggestions"