The Word Nerd

Plain
                                                           On the outside, I
                                                           Am who I am. No
                                                           Longer can I hear what
          Is 
          	                         		Deep within my heart.
          			                        Lock me in a cage,
          			                        Hear me cry my heart;
          Not
          			                        A song of love or
          			                        Freedom. I sing for
          		                        	You; not by choice. Like a
          Pretty
          		                        	Flower wilts, I sing
          		                        	For death’s scythe
          		                        	I mourn suppression.
          Enough.	
          		                               Make me pretty. Make
          			                       Me beautiful. Hide 
                                                         My imperfections,
          Paint 			
          			                        My flaws, bury my lies.
          		                        	What sacrifice must
          			                        Be made for all of 
          Me
          			                        To feel whole again?
          			                        Average is what
          			                        I was, but now I’m
          Red.
          
          ~Emma 
          
          P.S. Always be yourself. With the society that surrounds us today, we feel obligated to conform to the social standards and portray the image society deems suitable for us. We are all a part of this society that creates these social norms; the expectations we place and have placed on us create a world where we can never quite reach perfection. Be "red" if you must, but never forget to always be you.

Quick question: if you were a lemon wedge, where/on who or what would you like to be juiced? I got slapped with a lemon wedge, today... Day-um! That stuff burns! My poor cornea probably hates me, now... Never. Try it. At home.
          
          Anyways, new story coming out soon! Still working on it to make sure I'll actually finish it and not just leave it hanging off. It's an action/adventure/ apocalypse with vampires (not the romancy ones... Not entirely, anyways ;P ). They're kind of vampires.... No sunlight, drink blood, but they're also crazy like savage zombies... And there's blood-lusting animals, too! 
          
          Warning: it is pg-13 for some strong language (as seen below), violence (as also kind of seen below), and possibly some gore and goats. Meet Nova below in a short chunk from chapter 5! 
          
          Preview:
          
          No time to spare, I stumbled over Ronan's body. He didn't move, undisturbed. "Ronan...?" I felt my heart slow and pick up again, beating faster in my chest, pounding louder in my head. "Ronan, come on-- I need your help," I prompted, watching for any reaction from him.  
          
          Wood began to splinter. The hounds struggled on. 
          
          "Sh*t, sh*t. Ronan, thanks a lot you lazy-ass chunk of frigging dead meat!" I cried. With little regard to where I was placing what, I tore through piles of children's toys, needing anything to defend ourselves. "Do I have to do everything around here?!" I snapped, glancing back to Ronan, buried beneath a pile of junk and debris. Cold metal met the palm of my hand.
          
          "You choose now of all times to die! What the actual f--"
          
          The wood gave way, caving in, bringing with it a pack of hungry dogs, fur lost in large patches, eyes ringed in red, bloody bite marks covering majority of their skeleton-thin bodies. Putting all my force behind it, my weapon swung in a deadly arch, cracking across the skull of a large canine.
          
          ~Thanks for checking in! <3 M

Love To Be a Super hero. Awesome book.

Today I was walking my dogs when something fluttered past and fell into a bush. A butterfly had torn its wing and could no longer fly. It wasn't just a butterfly to me, though, silly as it may seem; it was a living creature. Something that could feel pain, something that could fear.
          
          I'm a softy when it comes to anything even remotely alive, and decided I could help it, so I took it inside and searched up how. After a while, I came across an article which shared how to mend a butterfly's broken wing. 
          
          So I gathered some materials. In order to make it stay still, I had to put it in the fridge for a few minutes. I fixed its wing as best I could, fed it a formula made specially for it, and set it free. 
          
          I can't stop thinking about it, and I think I know why.
          
          I did my best to mend its wing, only good intentions. It was so helpless. Some people may mock me for the time I spent trying to mend a broken wing of a creature likely to pass in a few days' time. They may say that it doesn't matter. I don't fear the mockery or judgment some may lay upon me.
          
          I fear only that I may not have done enough.
          
          Little things matter just as much as the rest. Maybe it didn't know I was trying to help it. Maybe I scared it more than it would have been scared if I had left it be just because I wanted to help. Maybe I just extended its suffering. 
          
          I'll never know what happens to it. It's out of my hands, now. 
          
          My biggest fear is being the cause of another's anguish. Now, I question whether I'd done more good than bad. Good intentions don't always lead to good outcomes, so only time will tell. 
          
          But I guess I'll never know what happened to that creature that crossed my path. I'll never know what’s to become of my own good intentions.

Hey random person daring venture to my profile! How are you? How are your cats? What about that friend you were just texting? How are they? Tell them hi for me!!! 
          
          Ha ha! Sorry not sorry :P
          
          Anyways.... the poet Catallus was a genius. I'm going to cry. Since I won't be able to update or whatnot, if you're checking in or something for some reason with the stuff and the things from the place with the people, here's a poem to ponder! It's extraordinary when you analyze it. This guy was so flipping smart, I'm jealous. 
          
          He was kind of a creepy stalker, though.
          
          A love-struck stalker. ;)
          
          Who writes mind-boggling poetry...
          
          "Odi et amo. Quare id faciam, fortasse requiris?
          Nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior."
          
          Which translates to: 
          
          I hate and I love. Perhaps you ask me why I do this?
          I do not know, but I feel it happen and I am tormented.
          
          Your opinions? I think it's worth CROSS examining, if you get my hint. :P It's complicated.... google will explain! Google knows all! 
          
          Bye imaginary person who read this whole thing for some reason with the person in the place while doing the thing with the not-a-cat cat that's a cat that's not, and the other people while petting the not-a-cat cat. Oh wait. You're not imaginary? 
          
          Woops. \( o_o)/