Post by iggywhite on Apr 19, 2013 4:23:58 GMT
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; height: 380px; background-image:URL(http://i800.photobucket.com/albums/yy284/brooklynlolli/x0r3w0.png); border-left: 10px solid #1e1e1e; border-right: 10px solid #1e1e1e;] OLIVER 'IGGY' WHITE  ------------------------------------------------- [style=font-family:tahoma; font-size:10; color:fff; width:350px; text-align:justify;] HEY THERE! SO, TELL US ABOUT YOU ... LET'S START OFF WITH THE BASICS. WHAT DO WE NEED TO KNOW? "My name is Oliver White. Most people know me as Iggy. I’m nineteen going on twenty in a couple of months. If we’re going by ghost years, then I’d still be nineteen….going on twenty. I offed myself at fourteen. Ghostie. People always say how I have “feminine features” or how I look “girly”, but I’m still a boy. Man. Whatever. I’m a light-sider. Just not cool or enigmatic enough to be dark. Plus, I’m always the nice guy. I’m still trying to figure out my sexuality. It’s tough. I guess I’d call myself pansexual, but sometimes I like guys more and sometimes I like girls more. Doesn’t matter, though, to everyone back home I’m a homo." SO, A LITTLE BIRDY TOLD ME THAT YOU ARE GORGEOUS. DESCRIBE YOURSELF. "Although I’ve never thought too highly of myself, my mother always told me how handsome I was. People say I resembled Lou Taylor Pucci. I’ve got blue eyes, but they’re so dark you wouldn’t even know. They almost look black in low lighting. Let’s see, I’m skinny. Lanky. No definition of muscle whatsoever, which always drove my dad nuts...no pun intended. I think girls are into that now. I’m pale as hell and if you didn’t know me you’d think I never saw the sun. The truth is I cannot tan. I’ve tried. The sun is not my enemy. I’ve got longish dark brown hair. I’m always pushing it behind my ears so it doesn’t get in my eyes and I’m too lazy to slick it back or style it. I’m 5’11 and 143 pounds. Like I said, skinny. I don’t have any tattoos or piercings. I’m not scared of the pain or the blood, but I cannot stand needles. I think I just have a nurse phobia. Anytime I see a syringe it triggers bad memories of the evil nurses administering shots to wailing kids. Myself included. As for scars, I’ve got two big ones-one on each wrist. Forever reminded of my suicide, I guess. As for a personal style, I don’t really have one. I think being poor has given me incentive not to give two shits about fashion. I always wore hand me downs from my relatives and when I feel like shopping for clothes it’s at goodwill. I guess my most valuable pieces of my hoodies and striped sweaters. I also have ripped jeans. Lots of em’, but the rips are unintentional. They are worn and tattered. I swear I’m not trying to emulate Kurt Cobain. " I'M SURE YOUR PERSONALITY IS SOMETHING ELSE COMPLETELY. TELL US ABOUT YOURSELF, WE WANT TO GET TO KNOW YOU BETTER! "Things I like….Reading. Comic books in particular. I love creating them too. I guess you could say I like art as well. At first it started off as a doodling habit, but it developed into drawing comic book characters and portraits of my friends. I took a few art courses and still am, but what I’ve accomplished is mostly on my own. It’s dorky, I know. I’m a big animal person. My room is practically a zoo. I own a bearded dragon, a cat, and a few goldfish I won on the boardwalk. I’m a huge fan of dogs, too. I used to own three back when I was living at home. My passion is film making. Ever since I was little and received my camcorder as a Christmas gift, I never put the damn thing down. I’ve been documenting my life since seven and been making short films for a few years. I’ve even made movies from the comic books I’ve created. Shorts movies mostly… and the actors were Ken and Barbie dolls, but they’re easier to work with than humans. Especially actors. Here’s where I run out of ideas and come up with something everyone loves, but I’ve made it my own. I like candy, but only gummies. Chewy candy. So, the things I hate are most my family. Not immediate family, but the others. Sometimes I hate my family, but I’m obligated to love them. Bullies. I’ve dealt with bullies all my life. Anxiety. I have a lot of it and I hate it. Social anxiety, especially. I’m not good at talking to other people. I’m painfully shy at times. My therapist gave me an experiment and told me to act suave and cool, but it ended up emotionally scaring me for life. I also hate when people are overly invasive. Also, when people fret over the dumbest shit. I guess it’s easy for me since I’ve got nothing to lose, hello, I’m a ghost, but I took for granted all the wonderful things about life. Who the hell cares what time it is? Live your fucking life, man. The last thing I dislike would have to be extroverts. Actually, I resent them. They’re what I want to be, but cannot be. Not the ones who practically throw themselves on you, but the people who have no trouble conversing with a stranger. Literal strength? None. So that’d be a weakness. Oh, and my shyness. I’ll throw awkward in there too. The list is endless, but I’m limited to three. The three things I pride myself on would be niceness, non-judgmental and creative. I’m not getting into these deep existential questions because I could blab forever, but as far as religion goes I’m agnostic. Rather, apathetic. I don’t know and I don’t really care. I’m a nice guy and always have been, but if I was given the opportunity to be bad for a day, I’d probably take it. Am I romantic? I have no idea. It’s subjective. Everyone has their idea of romantic. I guess by Hollywood movie standards, not really, but I could be…just never given the opportunity." I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR HISTORY ... I'M SURE IT WILL BE INTRIGUING! "This is the part where I ramble about how my life was shit and I was a dumpster baby and my parents smoked crack while I was in the womb, but that’s not the case. My birth, normal. My childhood, normal. My adolescence, where it took a turn for the worse. My teenage years, death. My mom and my dad were hippies. Madly in love. Some people say it’s what drove my dad to the looney bin, but it’s just a rumor. My family didn’t have a lot of money. We weren’t destitute, but my parents would often borrow money from the grandparents. Don’t get me wrong, they worked, but it wasn’t enough to raise two children, so they needed a little assistance. I never thought it was shameful. We got by and for a long time I thought our family could work. My dad was slowly deteriorating, though. We should’ve inferred from the early signs, but we didn’t think anything of it. In fact, it wasn’t an issue until he became violent, but I won’t get into that. Because he was a threat to himself and others around him, he was shipped off to the bin. I used to visit him a lot, but it’s become less frequent as I’ve gotten older. My mother knew the day would come. His parents were just as crazy, if not crazier. So, my mother took care of my sister and me while at the same time, worked two jobs. Three if you count cleaning houses for friends occasionally. But believe it or not, that didn’t throw me over the edge. We were making it work like we always did. We were even, dare to say, happy. It was when I entered high school shit hit the fan. The kids I hung out with from middle school were now five feet taller, muscular and handsome. One chick on each side. Not all were jocks surprisingly though. Some were, of course, but it seemed like anyone could be a douche these days. Even ‘heartfelt’ musicians. Due to my “feminine looks” and complete uninterest in anything cool or very masculine, I was the queer kid. In big cities I’d probably be interesting, but coming from the middle of nowhere where our fun was cow tipping, they didn’t take too kindly to people who were different. Along with being the queer kid I was the nerd and also the mute. I couldn’t stand up for myself because I’d get punched, so I never said anything and somehow they managed to insult me for it. Case and point, I ended up in a bathtub full of my own blood with my wrists slit listening to ‘Knocking On Heaven’s Door’. I was unhappy, sure, but everyone fourteen year old who has to experience high school for the first time is unhappy. It’d be fair to say that half of me was unhappiness. Wanting to disappear because it didn’t seem to matter to anyone if I did anyway, but the other half was hope. I knew about the supernatural. I knew that if I killed myself there was a fifty percent chance I’d come back. So, if I was happy leaving this earth, then I’d leave, but I’d be just as happy coming back. Thing is, I pictured a demon. Something evil. I mean, I committed suicide and that’s the number one sin, so I expected something a little different. I wanted to be this cool, badass kind of guy. Relive my life completely different than to who I was before. Instead I’m fucking Casper. Being a ghost was really my luck coming back onto this earth, but I’ve gotten used to it over the past five, almost six, years of my life. I can do some cool stuff. And since I’m so comfortable with it and have been this way since birth, I can be invisible too. No, that’s way too cliché for ending an interview. I’ll leave you with a goodbye. " AH, AND WHO IS THIS AMAZING MASTERMIND BEHIND THE LIKES OF YOU? "My name is Dallas. I’ve been on this site before and had two characters. I’m an east coaster and a random fact….I drink too much coffee. " |
made by brooklyn at caution[/center]
