College Tip

More homework and less tumblr

(I should probably follow my own advice)

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Random Thought

I really need to figure out how to not get kicked out of college…

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Matt Dawkins

I feel astonished (in a good way!) of what has happened with Matt. Truthfully, I don’t know him that well but what he has done is revolutionary. I know he is on my school bus and technically I thought he was a boy since I first saw him. But finding out about his story is fascinating. I remember that I found out his previous gender was female when I went to my friend’s soccer game last year during summer. My friend was part of a community girls’ soccer team. Back then I had been confused as to why a boy had been on the team and I asked my friend about it, after the game. At first I assumed it was a guy who transgendered as a girl, but it turned out to be the opposite. I, like many other students at my school, didn’t reject or feel repulsed. Actually I thought it was great that he was able to stand up for what gender he identified himself as. I’ve been to a few GSA (Gay Straight Alliance) Club meetings as one of my homosexual friends were in it. It’s great being in a school that accepts different sexualities and Matt for who he is. Reading the article of what he had went through, I feel a sense of pride (as weird as that is). He had basically stood up in front of his peers while female, said he was male and everyone just kind of went along and didn’t hate/harass him. He currently represents a door to all the transgenders out there still “hiding in the closet.”  With him, transgenders will feel more open to sharing how they feel and what they want to be identified as. He also opened the door to transgender athletes and gave them more opportunities.  Matt Dawkins showed that while there can be issues popping up, as long as you have supporting people around you, then it’s okay to be yourself.

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Sabriel (September 19)

Are you like any character in the novel?

I would say that I am most like Mogget. Mogget is the main protagonist’s reluctant travelling companion. He is sarcastic, moody, and a complete jerk. Most of all, he’s a talking cat. His real form isn’t a cat, but he was imprisoned in that form by a powerful necromancer and he works as a retainer to the necromancer’s descendants.

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Confederate Flag

I actually am unhappy at Bryn Mawr College. The two students weren’t technically being racist and such but the flag they hung was interpreted as such. NAACP doesn’t have to step in and input there words into the situation either. The problem was something the school should solve and it wasn’t even that big of a problem. The two students were simply showing a love for their Southern state and they ended up getting in trouble. Sure, they may not have known the history of the flag as well as others, but it doesn’t give the school the right to oppress them.

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Who am I?

In class today, we had to take a multi-personality quiz. We all just choose between  few bubbles.

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Streaming Poses a Dilemma for Musicians

While I am an avid user of streaming and such, I agree with what Taylor Swift did. I can see the reasoning on why she withdrew her music from Spotify. Seeing the little profit made as well as her righteous unhappiness.

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When Life is On Fire

Teenagers are rash and emotional (I would know, considering I am one). This comment is bestowed upon because of a recent article I read for class. The article is written by Gloria Hochman called Teens’ immature brains pose all sorts of dangers. She briefly explained that teenagers’ prefrontal cortex (the decision making part of the brain) is not completely developed yet and that’s why teens can make idiotic choices. I, myself have done some idiotic things, but at the time, it hadn’t seemed like a bad idea. Gloria points out that teens tend to follow emotion more than logic when they make decisions. This is also influenced by teenagers wanting to fit in among society and their friends. Sadly, we teenagers want to separate ourselves from our parents, wanting to go down a path of “self-actualization” and “individuality.” It is harder for teenagers to connect to parents and that doesn’t help us make good decisions, seeing as we refuse to be guided by those who have raised us. Just because we make bad decisions doesn’t mean we’re dumb though. Gloria mentions that primitively, there are centers in our brain that deal with emotion and risk-taking. Meaning we are more to make risky decisions based on our emotion instead of plain logic. It’s similar to the trill of poking the sleeping bear and wondering if it will awake (seriously, don’t be dumb here). We, the teenagers, are also on our way to being adults. We barely look like children anymore and people expect us to “act our age.” They expect us to make smart choices and force us to be independent. However, just because we look like adults on the outside, we’ve yet to develop all the way on the inside. There have been adults (mainly my dad) who made extremely idiotic and dangerous choices and miraculously come out unscathed. Not many adults are so lucky and they themselves are astounded/ horrified at some of the risky things they have done when they themselves were teens.

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Free Blog

This one won’t be a chapter of the story I’ve been writing so far but more of a rant. Mostly it’s about how my weekend went (rather boring, I know). This weekend was a three day weekend from school, because of Martin Luther King Jr’s Birthday. I had planned to spend my Saturday at home, reading web comics and fanfiction. However, my little brother had signed me up to go to a chess event that day with him. Sadly, that meant that I actually had to get out of bed, wear socially approved clothing (jeans and shirt), and get my mind working after a dizzy week of school. Let’s just say I didn’t do as well as others that day (I got wrecked). Getting home, I get scolded for going out (even though it was against my will) and not staying at home. Doing nothing. Sunday, I had the same plans as I had had for Saturday. But, lo and behold, my cousins Lena, Lisa, and Luis (Triple L of Terror) were visiting. Great. Once again, I drag myself from bed, check on my aunt’s baby upstairs, wear family event acceptable clothes (basically semi-fancy clothes), and I was then forced to play the Wii with them. I didn’t know they liked Just Dance games until I ended up dancing with them for four hoursWhen they finally leave, I am basically a starfish on the ground, refusing to move. Even the effort of retrieving Iphone was too much and I ended up laying there, hoping that humans could somehow get energy from photosynthesis (even though it was dark out). Monday was a good day, though I spent a majority of it asleep in bed or a prone figure on the couch. My aunt however had to go to New York that night and left around noon. And she didn’t take the baby with her. My grandma shoulders most of the work in the house and yelled for me for not helping (though I offer my help for just about everything). To lighten the burden, I decided that I could watch the baby. Bad choice. Terrible mistake. Dear. God. What. Was. I. Thinking. Anyways, Tyler, the little helper of Satan, throws up. A lot. I don’t know how my aunt handles the baby. Cry, poop, cry, hungry, cry, cry, fed, cry, poop, throw up, and my favorite; spitting up and pooping at the same time. He doesn’t sleep. I should know considering I pulled an all-nighter just last night because my grandma fell asleep and didn’t wake up, no matter how loud Tyler’s cries were. I remember receiving a text message around this time from my aunt about how she wanted a break from the baby (BAD PARENTING) and that she trusted me to take care of him (curse you Aunty, MAY ALL YOUR BACON BURN). I was able to get Tyler to sleep some time after three o'clock. Covered in nasty baby fluids, I took a shower and collapsed in bed, uncaring that my hair was soaking the pillow. I’m so close to divine sleep. Then a lone cry pierced my peace and I knew that the Devil calls. So once more, I tend to the baby and luckily, he didn’t throw up and such this time. Putting the beast to sleep, I’m just about stumbling to my bedroom. I fall into bed and start to drift off. Then something worse than a baby’s cry pierces the air. Next to my head, my phone buzzes and screeches. I quietly turned off my school alarm. Submitting into temptation, I screamed into my pillow and cursed my aunt for leaving me with her baby. Now I sit in a seat, in school, writing and simply complaining about my weekend, as my eyelids feel like they’re drooping everywhere. So how was your weekend?

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Free Blog

What are your plans for 2015? Truthfully? I don’t really what I will do. I know I’m going to make plans for certain things but I’m not sure I will be able to go through with even half of my plans. I plan to go to college but then there is the fact that I’m not even sure if I will be accepted into one. I plan to lose weight but then everyone knows how those plans usually go. I barely get off the couch and away from the computer screen so there is just about no chance of me losing weight. I plan to get my license over the summer but I have yet to even get my permit yet. I plan to finish that story I started last year, but I don’t even know if I will even remember half the plot I had beforehand. Really, I usually make many plans but so far I’ve got none of them remotely accomplished.

What do you want to accomplish? Change? I want to be able to change my attitude this year. I’m usually a negative person, following the phrase “Hope for the best but always prepare for the worst.” and I’m really hoping to be more optimistic this year. I want to get good grade in school and make my family proud. I want to change my daily diet and stop eating excessive snacks all the time. I want to show my parents I can be independent if they just trusted me to be. I also want to prove my older brother wrong in something (anything), because he is a complete know it all that refuses to be wrong.

How was you break? My break was okay, though I was sick for half of it because I drank something weird my dad gave me (Note to Self: Don’t trust unknown drinks from father). I made plans with friends but I had to cancel them because my mom didn’t want outside when I had only recently gotten better. I watched a Batman movie marathon with my brothers (Sibling Bonding!) and snacked on junk food (already failing on that eating healthy resolution). I also spent the not sick part of break helping me cousins with their holiday homework and I spent it trying to catch up on the work I missed from when I was out of school (still didn’t finish all of it sadly). Other than all that, I’d say my break was pretty normal.

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Free Blog

This is the second chapter of the story I wrote and it’s the same language/ violence warnings from before. I have never been inside a hospital as a patient so I’m only basing this chapter from imagination and opinions from friends who have been inside a hospital. I, the author condone the use of drugs and unauthorized medication.

Chapter Two

Beep. Beep. Beep. There was a constant beeping coming from next to me and I groaned slightly, trying to push away the disorientation in my head. I tried to open my eyes, but they stayed shut and I felt extremely tired, the beeping still persisting to the side. My mouth was extremely dry and there was an itch on my nose. I tried to raise my arm, but that simple task was too much and I dropped my arm back onto the bed. I tried to open my eyes again, opening it this time and immediately regretting it, the second I opened them. Bright, white light had pierced through my eyes blinding me and it felt almost like someone had shoved a hot knife into my brain. I let out a hiss of pain and squeezed my eyes shut.

After, almost all of the pain receded, I squinted my eyes and waited for my eyes to adjust before opening them completely. I looked at the slightly yellowing, but still white ceiling and I glared at the light. I sniffed my nose, hoping to make the itching go away, almost choking on a tube. Taking a slower breath in, I breathed in the familiar smell of rubbing alcohol and sanitary wipes. I almost groaned in anger. I hated hospitals, because of the frequent visits I had when I was younger. Knowing the drill, I looked to the side of the bed and saw the familiar button. I struggled slightly, before I managed to get my hand on top. I felt an evil grin stretch my lips and grimaced when I felt my lips rip open. I started to rapidly push at the button, determined for every nurse in the whole hospital to come.

After , about the 65th click, a nurse slammed the door open and glared at me, as I blankly stared back. She seemed to soften when she saw me though. She straightened up, and a professional air came around her.

“Is there a problem?” she asked, her voice not betraying the throbbing of veins on her forehead. She was a blond haired woman, with an average height, and her face caked in make up. I only stared blankly back at her. We had a staring contest for about a few minutes, before she blinked and I smirked, congratulating myself in that empty victory. I looked away from her and looked pointedly at the table next to me and the large pitcher of water. She stared at me with a dull look and I almost let out a disappointed sigh, before her eyes seemed to light up with her epiphany.

“You’re thirsty!” she stated. No , I thought to myself sarcastically, while rolling my eyes. I watched as she seemed to internally pat herself on the back, before bringing a glass out of no where and pouring me a cup. After filling the cup halfway up with water, she held the glass towards me. I stared first at the glass, then her, and finally at my arms. I gave her an incredulous look, before looking pointedly at my useless arms. She seemed to get the message as she pulled up the chair at the side of my bed and sat down. Bringing the cup to my lips, she daintily tilted it and I greedily drank the fresh water. It rushed down my throat and I choked on it, wheezing and coughing. She quickly set the water aside and helped me to sit up. I coughed some more before giving her a tired smile.

“Thanks,” I breathed out, my voice hoarse from disuse. She gave me a faint nod, before picking up the glass again. This time, she helped to remove the tube that gave me oxygen, from my nose. I breathed harshly, trying to get used to the feeling of manually breathing again. The nurse patiently sat there as I tried to catch my breath. Once, I had finally got used to using my lungs again, she offered me more water and I happily accepted it. When I finally drained the whole glass, she helped me lay down once more. Lying down, I felt tired, yet at the same time, I felt extremely uncomfortable. I watched the nurse as she looked at a clipboard near my bed and shook her head, her tongue clicking in a sound of displeasure.

“Wow, Miss Elizabeth Liddell, you seem to have a bad track record,” she murmured to herself, before she turned to me. She examined me for a moment, with an almost critical eye, before she shrugged and walked out of my field of vision. When she returned, I almost cringed at the size of the needle in her hand. I could swear that it was as long as my arm and I felt my mouth go dry once more.

“Now, Miss Liddell,” she said nonchalantly, “I am a trained professional and it seems that you may need more medicine to keep the pain away. Don’t worry this won’t hurt.” said the woman, who wasn't about to be impaled by that needle. I straight out frowned at her as she push the end slightly, to get the air out and I felt some of the excess liquid hit my face. As I was distracted, she shoved the needle into my arm and I almost jerked my arm off of the needle. However, instead, I felt lightheaded and even a little giddy after she forced all the painkillers into me.

“Hey nurse,” I said giddily after an awkward silence, flopping my arms slightly on the bed sheets. She leaned over me with a questioning look.

“Closer,” I encouraged with a raspy giggle. She decided to entertain my wish and she leaned closer.

“Lay off the lipstick,” I said with glee. I never got to see her reaction, as my attention was quickly diverted by the little sparkles that floated around my vision and the pink hippos that seemed to run in endless circles around me, chasing  after orange unicorns.

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I am going to put the first chapter of a story I made, which I named a “The View From the Bottom”. It’s short and please ignore the crude language used (to make it sound more modern and humorous). Any thing like names and places have no connection to me and I don’t own Burger King, I am simply using it’s name along with a few others.

Chapter One:

I yawned loudly as I passed another package over the scanner, the familiar beeping almost lulling me to sleep. Putting the last item in the bag, I gave my best fake smile to the stranger.

“Thank you and come again,” I said with the most pleasant smile I could muster. I got a grunt in response and I sighed. It wasn't like I expected them to kneel at my feet and worship me, but the least they could do was thank me. I heard a beep. I glanced down at my watch and almost grinned. It was closing time! I unhooked the keys on my pants and locked the register, before I shut down all of the slushie machines and hot dog turners. I knocked on the door to the manager’s office and peeked in. 

My boss, Richard, was buried in paper work and I could only see a bit of his red hair poke out from under the paper. Grinning eagerly, I tiptoed up behind the cramped desk and bent down next to his ear. His glasses were askew on his face, as he slept soundly on his desk barely making a sound. He was almost adorable, surrounded by wrinkled paper work. His baby face was relaxed, his glasses crooked, and red dyed hair messy. I smiled at how he peacefully slept before I opened my mouth. I screamed as loudly as possible into his ear and quickly pulled back as he shot up with a yelp and a resounding sound of his knee hitting the bottom of the desk.

“Wha-??” he cried out whipping his head around in confusion, while grasping his knee.

I burst out laughing at his confused, panicked expression, papers stuck to his pale face.

“Ellie?!” he said in confusion. Once my laughter subsided, I grinned and pointed at my cheek. He stared confusingly at me and I rolled my eyes. Reaching out, I peeled the paper off his face. I saw his cheeks flush with embarrassment and I almost rolled my eyes again, but instead I noticed ink on his face and I laughed instead.

After my second bout of laughter was done, I pointed to his cheek with a wide smile.

“Got something on your cheek, Rick,” I pointed out, idly sitting on the edge of his desk. His eyes widened, before he rubbed at his cheek, laughing nervously as well.

“Oh yeah, it’s closing time,” I said, pointing my thumb towards the door, “Remember to shut off the lights, okay?” He nodded tiredly. “Looks like you got some serious bags, you should get more sleep, maybe take a day off,” I pointed out.

“It’s fine,” he laughed, “Sides, I don’t trust you not to burn down the store while I’m gone.” I feigned a hurt expression and gave a mock pout.

“Does this look like the face of a villain?” I asked, giving him my best puppy eyes.

“Yes it does,” he immediately responded.

“Dick,” I said, giving him a mock punch in the shoulder.

“I prefer Richard,” he said with a grin. I gave a snort, before pushing myself off of the desk.

“Well, I gotta go, before I’m late to my night shift with the ‘Burger King’,” I said pointing my thumb at the door and rolling my eyes. He gave me a worried look. He was like that sometimes, brotherly, and a big worrywart.

“If you hate that guy so much, why don’t you ask for a transfer?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Can’t do that, I’d be leaving my friend alone with that jerk and that’s a no-no,” I replied, pulling off the store hat on my head. I placed it on the coat rack and took my trench coat off of it. He gave me a sad smile as I shouldered on my trench coat.

“Bye,” I said with a wave, before opening the door and quickly rushing out, glancing once or twice at my wristwatch. I had about ten minutes, before I had to clock in. I tightened the sash on my coat and smiled. I knew I could make it on time. I got outside and felt my body shiver from the cold night air. I looked at Scarlet, my motorcycle, and gave her hood a loving touch, before I got on. I pulled at the necklace around my neck and unfastened a key on it. I quickly opened a special compartment near her tail lights and pulled out my helmet. Securing the helmet on my head, I raised the visor to quickly look at my watch. Seven minutes. If I didn't hurry, I will be late again. After turning the key and twisting her handles, she roared to life and I grinned. Snapping my wrist, I closed the visor and twisted her handles once more and she roared forward.

I held on and watched the streets’ nightlife go by in a flash. Weaving through traffic, I hurried to my next job. As long as I kept going at the speed I was currently going, I should make it with a few seconds to spare. When I glanced up and saw the quickly approaching light. I almost let out an exasperated groan. It was a threatening beacon of red and I watched it mock me. I knew that if the light didn't turn green when I got there, I would be late and the King said that if I was late one more time, I’d be fired. I glared at the light, willing it to turn green, as I was now only ten feet away from the empty walkway. When it turned green, I let out the breath I was holding and grinned, crossing over the line and speeding forward.

What I least expected, at that exact moment, was for a car to come speeding at me from my left. I saw it in my peripheral vision and quickly squeezed the brakes. Everything went in slow motion, as the car smashed Scarlet’s rear view mirror and wrecked her front. I felt a sharp pain in my leg as it was crushed between the wild car and Scarlet. Then, the car veered and hit a lamppost. I didn't notice that. Instead, I could only hear the screeching of tires ringing in my ears and all of the world seemed to spin as I flew. Suddenly, time sped up again and I felt my head hit the pavement. I had a brief flicker of gratitude for Rick, who had gotten me the helmet last Christmas. The visor cracked and fell apart, as I lay on the hard pavement, dark spots in my vision. I felt the weight of the pain and I heard the screaming of people. As my world went dark from the pain and agony, I only had one clear thought. King was so going to kill me for be late again.

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I honestly feel disgusted at what has happened. I know rape and violence happen everyday but the ignorance of some of the people reacting to it leaves me frustrated. What happened isn’t common and if it was, then it was hidden well. I believe the students being punished deserve what they got and that their parents should back off. The parents of the punished students should have expected their children receiving fitting punishment. If rape of adult men were happening in their community, I’m pretty sure the adults would have been yelling for the criminal to not get away unpunished. However, when it’s their own kids, they turn a blind eye and won’t accept the facts of how it is. If this kind of hazing were to happen in Marlton and I was a parent, I would have most likely ended up disowning my child if they committed this heinous crime. I despise Madeline Thillet, the mother of the football team captain. She said the no one was hurt and no one died. Well guess what? Most likely, the boys raped have been hurt; physically and emotionally. Also, after rape happens to someone, they are likely to be mentally scarred and they may not be dead but they could feel like they were dying on the inside. Those students should be charged as adults because I don’t care that they won three championships in a row, their punishment is justified in my eyes.

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College Essay

I have ugly hands. The skin is dry and my nails have been bitten down often. I don’t indulge in manicures or hand lotions. I have had these hands for a long time now. When I was younger, my hands were more small and soft. Hands of a child, really. However, since the age of eight, my hands have become uglier. Littered with paper cuts and lead stains, my hands have been through a lot and reflect me.

When I was a little girl, I never did any work around the house. All I did was play and eat all day. While my mom’s parents took care of me, I was spoiled constantly. However, the summer before third grade, I moved to dad’s parents home. They were strict and stiff. I would act childish and they would scold me constantly. They showed me how to do chores and it became an obligation for me. I now did the laundry, swept the house, cooked meals, hand washed dishes, and I had constantly organized everything in the house. They had me grow up. The hands I had back then were clumsy and unsteady, constantly dropping dishes. Now, my hands are rougher but I easily handle the bookshelves and soapy dishes.

Though I was hateful about being forced to grow up, I don’t regret it. It has made me more independent and has prepared me for life, for when I move out. I am proud of how practiced I am in using my hands for simple things now, like balancing plates or doing origami.  These hands have been through a lot and are not as pretty as the others, but I love my hands nonetheless.

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I cannot help but feel ticked at what is happening with the Neshaminy Student Paper Redskin Ban. In case the principal did not notice, it is the student newspaper, meant for enjoyment. Sure, they took out the name of the school mascot, but considering that the name sounds like slander, I am not surprised. The students are also following school protocol by not using offensive words in their newspaper. Why should the principal suspend a teacher for doing what is right and supporting her students? She was obviously supporting of what the school newspaper was doing. Aren’t teachers supposed to support their students? The principal obviously doesn’t seem to care much for his students but the school’s mascot. Technically, when the principal says that the editor is taking away the right of free speech, isn’t that hypocritical? Considering that many students can get a detention if they were to say slander in the halls, especially with a teacher present. The teacher, Tara Huber, received “journalism teacher of the year”, from the Pennsylvania School Press Association. If she received that kind of award, doesn’t that mean that she is doing something right? What gives the principal the right to aggressively suspend a teacher for simply following the rules? She let her students in the club ban a slanderous word and most likely even supported their decisions. Why does the principal have so much control over what should be the student's newspaper? The students should be able to be able to remove all slander from their newspaper and make it school appropriate, yet they get punished. This kind of treatment is frustrating me and I am not even the one experiencing it. If this were to happen in Cherokee, I’m sure that many of our students would be extremely angry and protest to this kind of ludicrous treatment. The principal also took out $1,200 student funds from the club. What kind of outrageous behavior is this?! All I see is a tantrum of the principal not getting what he wants and he takes so much away from those who ‘did him wrong.’ This is complete bull, what he’s doing and I almost want to go on over and hit him. Who told him that he could repress the students within his school for doing what is right, instead of what is wanted? No one, that’s who. He wants the dumb mascot in the newspaper, even though it’s slanderous and who even reads the newspaper? Students at my own school rarely read the school newspaper so would we really notice if the slanderous word wasn’t there? Why does the principal have to blow the whole situation out of proportion? This kind of behavior annoys and sickens me.

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Poem for Class (#3)

This poem was a haiku written for class.



I live in embers

waiting for a gently blow.

Please! I want to live.


I will warm your home,

keep the winter chill away,

and cook you warm meals!


With your cautious blow,

I feel that I can now breathe.

You have helped me live.


Please do turn away,

I think with an evil grin.

This is your mistake.


Greedy hands reach out,

consuming all with a touch.

Too late for you now.


You can’t escape now.

I easily burn you all.

I have come from hell.


The angels see me

and they sent out a light rain.

I scream in terror.


The water hurts me,

making me small and weak.

The rain starts to slow.


I hear the leaves crunch

and I see a man approach.

Please! I want to live!

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Jerry Sandusky

I honestly feel a little sickened right now. I am happy that Sandusky is behind bars now. With him molesting children, I cannot help but feel extremely ticked. I am even angrier that some people defend him too. I am glad that Jessica Dershem stepped in because if she did not, a homosexual child rapist would be on the loose. I have nothing against homosexuals but he took it to a different level and it has me seething. How can no one not notice him taking students out of class often and the constant displays of attraction?! I mean come on! Blowing raspberries on someone’s stomach would be normal for a toddler, but an old guy doing it to a teenager?! That is unnatural! I feel upset that people would defend him, just because he had been a football coach once. I bet the Pennsylvania State University might have known but did not want to acquire a bad reputation because of Sandusky! Someone should have suspected him sooner, considering that he was avoiding Dersham’s direct questioning with evasive answers. I am proud of Dersham right now. She basically stood against the University of Penn State and all of Sandusky’s football fanatic supporters. She saved Aaron Fisher from his molester and she stopped Sandusky from having any other victims. She had courage and strength, which I find admirable and I think that she should have gotten a promotion or something higher than a plaque to display. Considering how hated she must have been for having a trial against Sandusky and how much slander she must have faced. I am happy also that Fisher reported to Dersham. It must have been hard for him, considering that many people who are raped don’t want to admit, because of shame or maybe even fear. Fisher had “framed” someone for raping him, who was also high in the social ladder at Pennsylvania State University. If Dersham wasn’t the one who got the case, the rape may have been blown out of proportion or Sandusky may have even won the trial. If that were to happen, Fisher’s life would have become a wreck. He would be ostracized and the coach would have been made the victim, as he was accused of something he “did not do”. All I can be happy about now is that Sandusky is behind bars. People like Sandusky deserve to rot in a prison cell.

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You don’t know me and it is unlikely that I have the time nor motivation to know you. Anyways, through this post you will find out things about me. Hmm, let me think for a bit. I do not have a specific favorite color, but I do prefer the color black. Anything that moves interests me, so I like just about every animal or insect. If I were to label myself, I would call myself a childish, considering that I watch TV everyday and get into petty arguments often. I like most music, except for heavy metal and techno (the constant screeching gives me headaches). I enjoy origami and sketching. I like to play tennis, even though I’m not very good at it. I like to eat unhealthy foods like chips and sweets. I am not a morning person. Seriously, how can you not be on something if you are that happy at six in the morning? I can not stand number two pencils. They feel odd and uncomfortable in my grip so I think that I will just stick to lead pencils and keyboards. I want to travel around the world at least once in my life time and meet new people. I don’t like my name. At all. I only have this name because my mom thought it would be fun to have all of her kids’ names ended with the same last two letters. I like water lotuses and chrysanthemums. I like to drink flower teas and lemon lime gatorade. I have a motto to life, “Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst.” It helps to have that kind of mindset when I am about to do something extremely idiotic. On a final note. I’m Batman.

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Poem for Class (#2)

This poem was based off of an item that I had to pull out of a box. I pulled out a rock covered in glitter.


I am so glamorous
with glitter covering me.
I’m so beautiful,
it’s such a simple thing to see.

Without a doubt,
I obviously don’t fit in.
Besides, I want to stand out.
I know it’s no sin.

I straighten my hair everyday
and put my makeup on.
This is the only way
for me to be beautiful as a swan.

I always go out
and shop for new clothes.
It’s without a doubt
that I’m pretty as a rose.

Why are you trying to get close to me?
No! You have to stay away!
I don’t want anyone to see!
I won’t have my heart out on display!

I must never let it show.
I always have to hide.
Because no one must know;
that I’m ugly on the inside.

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Poem for Class

I had to write a romance genre poem and considering that I am not a big fan of romance, I decided to spice it up a little.

Just You and Me 
On a starry night,
atop the sandy beach.
My heart has alight,
with your hand in my reach.

At a shopping mall,
smiles on our lips.
We just have it all,
almost attached at the hip.

Can you see
the love we have,
just you and me,
smiles and laughs?

Who is she?
The one who stands by you?
What about me?
I thought you loved me too.

Missed calls.
An empty bed.
My heart that falls
when you have fled.

Can you see
the love we have,
just you and me,
has made me sad?

He left with her,
Leaving me behind.
He calls her forever,
even though he’s mine.

“I thought you loved me,”
I sorrowfully said.
He looked at me blankly,
the day before he wed.

Can you see
the love we had,
just you and me,
hurts me so bad?
Loud blood curdling screams.
That girl is dead.
Red, my knife gleams,
on the day he was to wed.

Alone in this white room,
a jacket hugging me.
You were my groom,
I think about with glee.

Can you see
the love we had,
just you and me,
had driven me mad?

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