You're SpecialYou know what I love? People who lie. People who speak half-truths and quarter-truths and sometimes ten-and-a-fourth-truths. All those ugly, stupid people. People who compare you to a summer's day or a flower because they love you.

Well, I love you, too.

I love you lots and lots. I promise you. And you should believe me because I tell you. Not because I SHOW YOU with actions or because I do anything for you. Just believe me because I will spend a minute and a half every now and then to give you a two-thirds-truth that suggests something about the way you look or the way you make me feel. I'll maybe write a paragraph and a half so that you u

Rail.Would you see me different if I looked like you do?
If I walked and talked and flipped my hair just like you?
Or how about if you took the time to see my point of view?
How bad would it hurt to walk in my shoes?

I bet you've never been the lesser, felt the pressure or hate
So I can't exactly blame you for not seeing my way
So tell me your life as it is day to day
Although if you were me you'd never do the same

I bet you've never been told a closed mind never quits
I hope it's not too hard to make it unstick
I suppose nobody told you beauty isn't stick thin
But you've the mind of a rail so I guess I'll give in

Live.Let's rebel.

Let's tear ourselves from the things that are holding us back. Let's paint our faces and hair in bright colors and crowd together until we're one giant throng of movement. Our hearts will not beat as one, but they will all beat.

Let's defy.

Let's spread ourselves like disease. Let's separate our bodies from our minds. We'll all become things of energy and light while we break our beliefs and spit out our religions. Let's abandon rationality and thought and become animals of instinct.

Let's break.

Let's lose ourselves. Let's become someone else. In the time where we have no thoughts we will be people we want to be. We can be

...Maybe I'm naive because there are certain things I don't understand
Like why we care about people who don't know us
Or why we love people who don't want us
Or why we get angry over things that don't concern us

Maybe I'm cold and bitter because there are certain places I can't go
Or people I can't see
Or songs I can't listen to anymore because they remind me of things I hate
And as much as I try to understand them, I can't

Maybe we're all different brands of crazy
Certain brands like hurting the body
Certain brands go for the mind
Me, I go for the heart because I'm a different brand than everybody else

Or maybe I've just lost it

Hmm.Tell me something
Do you want to be me?
Do you want to be you?
I think you're self-obsessed
What's the answer?
Yes.

Are you flawed?
Are you ugly?
Are you angry?
Tell me something
Yes.

Give me a spur of inspiration
Do something I hate
Feed my brain
Make me sane
Are you perfect?
Yes.

Tell me something ugly
I want you to know
You're a monster
You're a freak
Are you human?
Are you breathing?
Then tell me something
Let me know
Are we the same?
Why,

Yes.

SubjectiveBaby, my baby, you're far too light
But light is subjective
And I'm far too heavy

Someone out there would pay for my ounces
They'd spare me my vomit and lost stomach acid
I like how I am as a sack of red marrow
With bones that click against joints in my skin

I raised myself after being bore by society
I make myself beautiful with no respect for my body
I made my home in skeleton skins
And bits of lost hair that shrunk me

Someone out there, will you tell me I'm heavy
So I can be smaller
So I can be ugly

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Situation.
We find ourselves in awkward positions, us humans. Positions of love and situations of insecurity. I'm not entirely sure what position you put me in, but I think I'm learning something from it. And I think, I think sometimes, that I'm learning about...me, when I should be learning about you.

It tends to focus on weakness, these things I'm learning. That I don't break from things that take aim at my heart or my head. It's not those places because I'm strong there, strong like those dishes that don't break. The kind that look like glass but aren't. I fracture from things that hit me in whatever part reminds me that I'm lonely. It's like an a

LovingI don't think we should mock what it was like to love at fifteen. I think that if we could all love in that way (perpetually and honestly and with so much passion that we could feel ourselves ready to burst with it) then this place would be so much happier. We'd be more fulfilled and so sure, so positive- this is the one. This is the one to complete me. And we wouldn't worry about details or the future or heartbreaks to come: just the time that is now. A time that is perpetually Summer and brimming with nostalgia. Loving at fifteen is loving young and loving "forever", and it's something I regret we grow out of.

TrendThis year's trends are cyan filters
Out of focus yellow and blue
Kids with hand-chopped scissored hair
And ignoring me so I'll love you

This month's popularity is last month's freak
Black and white with colored stains
Anorexia, not bulimia
Self-injury, not self-hate

This year's trend is lacking talent
Working less by working bare
Full of kiss-ass, lying lovers
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Shout It Outby ~AGoddessFinch

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^{Shout It Out.

When I say 'you' or 'your' I don't mean everyone.

Chuck Palahnuik is not a bad writer. At all. By any standards. I just wish people would shut the hell up about him and move on.

If you are confused by anything else, keep it to yourself.

~Finch}

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~Nutrinc Apr 1, 2012 Student General Artist

Why would your parents molest you, you fucking weirdo?

~Nutrinc Apr 1, 2012 Student General Artist

I'm sorry for making you angry?

~Nutrinc Nov 28, 2011 Student General Artist

You think your parents are going to molest you? Are you fucking insane. Your parents they should kick you out on the spot I hope they1 never see you in insane fucking bitch out of every shout it out I've read today you most fucking insane cunt.