Derrp I don't consider myself a very good writer, but I can express my feelings. I'm obviously not very afraid to. I dunno. I never like try to write, sometimes I just get a really good idea and I'm like, I better write this down. Usually if I sit down and try to write it usually comes out like this post, long with no real interesting content

Voodoo Doll I read a #poem on figment, and I was inspired She's your voodoo doll, A manipulation for your animation You toy her emotions, From simple to harsh notions She has her imperfections. Never meeting your expectation Her colors have been torn, Her words now reborn. You erased all creativity, Told her how she must be. Molded with technicality, Devoid of all individuality Society will label her, rearrange her, disengage her. Placed on a simple ladder, She will be told what really matters. Fighting with her passion, Screaming in her abstraction Her identity strives to stay strong But society always proves her wrong. Exploding in scars of beauty, Something society must never see Too concerned with conformity Blinded from reality. What is to become of her? I fear she will only ever be Society's flawless masterpiece The only image she would never be A world that shows all she could be

Ratatouille I love this movie But I hate how it gives little kids false hope. As soon as people found out about Remmy they totally accepted him and everything was okay. Kids, that's not what really happens. They tell you that they will accept you for who you are, but then they judge and make fun of you and exclude you. Then they call the health inspector

He Tasted Blood He grabbed her hands and kissed her delicate fingers. A romantic display of affection. She tried to pull away, and he held her wrists tighter. She winced in pain and cried out. He was fairly shocked. And then he understood. He turned her wrists over and pushed her sleeves up. There lay dozens of cuts. He looked into her eyes and saw her eyes were welling with tears. He looked at her and in that moment he fell more in love with her. She was broken and torn up but she was beautiful in ways he couldn't explain. He pulled her wrist to his lips and he kissed her scars. He felt the cuts and scars against his lips. He pulled away and looked at her. She was crying now. He pulled her in and held her tight. He licked his lips and tasted blood.

Why can't you be like the other boys? They stare at me while I stare at you