HEISHANG, Daisy N.

[daisy heishang]

DAISY NEVE HEISHANG

NICKNAMES: Tokyo. 
AGE & BIRTHDAY: 24 ; OCt. 3rd, 1989
HEIGHT: 5'6''
HOMETOWN: Las Vegas, Nevada
RESIDENCE: Apartment in Glendale, Los Angeles
PROFESSION: Tattoo Artist
RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single, yet again.

FATHER: Dominic Heishang (49, Biker)
MOTHER: Eugenia Lapahe-Heishang (46, ER Nurse)
SIBLINGS: N/A
EXTENDED: Rodrick Heishang, Uncle
Nascha Lapahe, Grandmother
Lydia Lapahe, Aunt
Clay Lapahe, Cousin

OTHER:
Djavulen, Red nose Pitbull

                                                                                                                      No tears, please; it's a waste of good suffering.

The beauty that everyone is drowning in will be the unraveling of the tightly sewn pieces of me. I am all aching bones and hatred. With each moment that passes me, my spine takes on more water, and I too will drown in the wake of the things I have done. In spite of me, of this, I continue to live with teeth bared and harsh words poisoning the tounge that spits them. I am my own downfall though it matters not because even as I die I will live on in immortality. People like me never truly die. I will plague the world from my own grave. Nothing feels better to me than the initial feel of the needle on tender skin, ink and flesh blending to bring me alive as a piece of art. All roses and death. It takes me past the mundane things that go on around me. I am not alive unless I am truly living, feeling, and a thrill can come from anything I've learned. I have lived in most of the states of America, never really staying anywhere long. I cannot. It doesn't interest me to have a set routine. Consistency was something I had never been fond of, knowledgeable of. Los Angeles was the last stop on a hard run and now, in the midsts of maintaining a lovely persona, I am bored. I need chaos. 


                                                                                                                             I am Daisy Heishang and I will destroy you.

All sinful eyes, dark grins, and pure freckles - there are no words for the person that I am. I couldn't even explain I to you. I thrive off of ruin, damnation, destruction. I seem to be happiest when others are miserable. It's always been that way. Detached at best. I did not play much as a child and after the first three times of my 'fits', as my mother called them, hey quit trying to pressure me into bonding with the groups of children. Think of putting a wolf in a field with children. Things got broken. Fear. Anything people fear belongs to the devil, apparently. I was the only child and we moved around a lot. I think my parents hoped that something would give. The only people I got along with were the ones that I should have never met and those that, probably, should never have met me. I am a black hole. A gluttonous beast that takes but never gives. 


                                                                                                                        You are the Devil just as much as you are God.

Sweat and burning hearts, he is the only one that can handle me. Ah, The Russian. His name sweet on my dry lips. Each rush, each high, each low - he is at the center of the storm. Dare I admit to loving him? No, that would be too easy. He is the bane of my existence. I love to see him quiver beneath my touch, his skin jumping as I steal his heat; his life-force. Jesus, what a ride in all aspects of the word. He ruins me with his ways, but I ruin him with my life. Each breath I take drawing him further down. Every fit comes from something he has done - he brings out the monster in me - I am always the bad guy in any argument. Heated words lead to broken items, sweaty bodies, or the declaration that we won't ever see one another again. Usually from him. I laugh, a humorless sound from the depths of my belly, and I leave him like any storm that rips up the world and disappears in its wake. Like an moth to a flame, I always find myself back near him, feeding off of his life force as if it is the very reason I exist. Disaster isn't the word. Perhaps we are both too broken. He's as much a fool as I am, he will burn. Sweet, glorious, Adam and the Black Widow that bit him. 

ALIAS: Cailyn
AGE: 19
PLAY-BY: Jenah Yamamato
CITY: LA
LISTENING TO: Angus & Julia Stone - And The Boys

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