TheInnerArtist113

We live in a hypercritical society. People are constantly judged by their intelligence, ability to conform, and their looks. Of course, partaking in sports gives one bonus points. If someone is pretty-or handsome- and intelligent, but step out of the conformity, they are ostracized. Not to mention that if someone has a mental disorder, they are considered to be pariahs.  Everyone has to live up to society's standards in order to be "normal" and accepted. Thanks to the hyper criticalness of our society, I have learned that I am not "normal" and I need help and medication. Society is always making up new standards of what being pretty is, how

She would wrap me around with the gentle hands of cotton, but then, with the grievous emotions of leather. Her seemingly gentle hands were no where placed upon my pale skin, though. She wasn't anywhere within my sentience, but I'd insisted myself that one of these days, her (HairColor) locks would run carefree in between my finger. That one of these days, her smile would be what I'd awaken to from the nights curse and look over and see. That one of these days, I could look into her (EyeColor) eyes and see into her soul, being able to witness her love for me, like mine for her. And just for once, her name can press through my lips radiantly.