RawrMonsterRawr

I feel really wise when I drink out of a coffee cup. I don't drink coffee; I drink water. However, if said water originates from a coffee cup, I feel wise. That's what I was thinking during fifth hour today, when I kindofsortof interacted with a human being. Kind-of. But not really. Here's how it went in my head:    Insignificant other: Look at that fag. Stupid homo.    Me:  Shut up. Seriously? All I've heard from you constantly all year round is fag this and fag that. You are without a doubt the most ignorant being I have ever had the displeasure of encountering. Please –for the sake of all people that understand the most basic,

I stand in a meadow hunched over myself, and feeling wary. Alone. Carefully, as not to disturb a soul, I raise my drowsy eyes and peek about. I see before me a sea of weeds taking over the meadow in which I stand. They are darkness. Discarded seemingly carelessly within the labyrinth of darkness are spots of light. Flowers. And I mourn for the flowers. For they will die. The weeds will kill them. You speak to me then. I shiver with what is trepidation and detest. All in one breath weak at the knees and angry I fall before you, and yet nothing. Shamefully, I lie, face in the dusty barren sea of weeds li

When Telling a Girl You Love Her: A message to thick-skulled boys from a sincerly offended woman. When telling a girl you love her for the first time, you should NOT  -do it via text message      ( i luv u babe

 Life starts as a seed.  Small and seemingly insignificant, we blow in the wind, scatter, and try to find our place in the world.  Hopefully, eventually, we find where we belong. And then, we begin to grow. We grow together, and as we grow, we learn.        We learn about the glorious things in life that -like the sun and the rain- help us grow, stretching our ever fragile limbs to the sky and reaching our potential. Like anything in life, however, our blessed existence isn't perfect. We also learn about the hard things, like a drought (or even something as simple as writers-block). But the hardships in life make us stronger.        We

It starts out as a speck, an imperfect little smudge on the clear window of life. It isn't that noticeable, but you seem to bend yourself around it to hid and demolish it. You twist and turn your increasingly depressive and dark thoughts around it. You are distorted. It grows and spreads like blood on water.  You bend your neck to hide your face in unmasking shame.  How dare you not be exactly like everyone else? Growing like weeds in your heart, your little imperfection squeezes and restricts your thoughts until you cannot recognize your face in the mirror. Your thoughts mesh together and slowly shrink into a blissful nothing. Self-destructi

                               Pitter-patter, whisper storm.                                    Raindrops in my head.                                  As I sleep, it pitter-pats                                   and drips into my bed.                               It drip drip drops and splashes                                and rains for days, it seems.                           Then splish splash sploosh; pretty soon                                 it's raining in my dreams.                             I can not sleep. Can't even think-                                    insomniatic dread.                          'Till pitter-pa