flock of sheep in spacesuits

we look up at the stars
and the earth falls out from beneath us
each twinkling star placed by hands much bigger than our own
star dust is blown in the blackness, with wind that blows faster than we have ever known

we are so limited
we squeeze the sky and the stars that hang so preciously in the sky
in our limited brains, in our elementary textbooks

in science class, someone with a whiteboard and a pointer
tells us how the earth was formed
with chemicals and gases and mistakes
but as you're sitting there in that generic blue plastic chair you feel there is something more

and just to think were are just a speck on a speck the orbits another speck
just to think the sun could suck us dry if it imploded, by chance
just to think acid jungles and ocean worlds might be orbiting somewhere
and we wouldn't know it
but someone would

just to think, our little blue and green twinkling planet hung up in air:
people live day to day
the flock of sheep all move in the same direction, it's all humanity has ever known

a child looks up in the starry night, his big brown eyes filled with the whimsical universe
and wonders how everyone walks with their eyes closed if there is so much to see
wonders why when you push bigger and bigger with your mind you always hit a wall, where you can't think anymore
it's just easier to think about your own day to day instead

when you think someone has got to have placed those stars
someone has got to have painted that night blacker than black
someone has got to have lightly blown on each little planet making it orbit like
a little kids science project
someone

and when you stand and tell me that the someone who hung my world
knows how many hairs there are on my head
it's too big, too magical for me to understand
because i think, why would He want to know me?
i don't stand much taller than the dirty ground i walk on

but sometimes you just have to think that if He took that much time
making the universe spin and twirl in beautiful silence and heart-stopping beauty
He thought you should be in it; because you're here aren't you?

He spent time weaving each thread of hair
painting each freckle
and putting the stars in our eyes
for a reason

so we could walk hand in hand through the stars
i would be in a spacesuit
and He'd be cloaked in the stars, He'd point out the milky way and smile

epiphany by flashdance

as i was watching the movie flashdance, i had a vision.
i can follow my dream.
and yes, it seems so cheesy to take something that generic from an old 80's movie;
but when you sit there and ponder that one sentence, that one thought,
things just start to come together, you can almost make out the big picture.

we seriously have one fricken life to live, why not give it everything you got?
i want to know what im so scared of, what is everyone else so damn scared of?
that you'll fall on your ass? we've all done that, plenty of times.

i guess once you start to see that the only thing that's stopping you is the fear of failure
you can just keep moving, keep perusing
because if you fail,
there's no regrets

a box of old stuff

i have finally and completely moved.

4 boxes, and many more to go,

but i'm out of that apartment and into a brand new one.

my sister and I counted, our 10th move.

apartment apartment house apartment apartment.

so as i was going though some of my old stuff, i came across a blue old box that looked like it had been warped by hundreds of years. a thick layer of dust coated the top and elementary stickers covered the sides.

i opened it and found all my elementary school journals, pictures and just, memories. they poured out of that box. but one things that i found: diaries.

diaries that said 'memories' on them, another was a harry potter diary, which i find ironic because i always make fun of my sister for being a harry potter freak. alright let me just put it out there, i like harry potter. who doesn't?

anyway, in my move all together i found around seven or eight diaries. filled with stuff. heavy stuff, light stuff just all this stuff i totally and completely forgot about. entirely.

as i began to read them, i was seriously transported back to my years in 5th grade, 6th grade and so on. it was an eye opener to how much i have seriously changed.

i found letters from my old best friends, and in my diaries i actually wrote about each friend. old fights, good times, and the notorious crushes all came back to me.

the boys i liked!!! i remember reading the first time a boy asked me out (typical response for me: no; so some things haven't changed), i read about my first best friend and how we became friends from hanging out at the monkey bars; literally this stuff was golden.

it was so funny when i addressed my older self, like, 'older salina if you are reading this..." and it was so strange because i was. i was like sitting with my younger self and experiencing everything again with her.

i had totally forgotten how much i hated my middle school, and pretty much everyone in it. i drew pictures and wrote charts and made lists.

as i was reading this feeling came back to me. i wasn't just remembering it like a picture, i was remembering the feel of that time. the feel of the old town and school i used to go to. everything was just a feeling, not a memory because i hardly remember half the stuff i wrote about.

wow, i feel so old. i'm 15 years old and i'm old. i guess i do miss that 'era' of my life, even though there were hard times. pictures can only take you back so far, but for me it was the diaries that brought me the rest of the way.

so thank you younger self.

love

"love is patient and kind;
love does not envy or boast;
it is not arrogant or rude.
It does not insist on its own way;
it is not irritable or resentful;
it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.
Love bears all things,
believes all things,
hopes all things,
endures all things."

-1st corinthians 13

i just need to let this sink in.

the one-man dream catcher

right now im might just be the most determined person
i have ever been
and all it took was my parents not believing in me
funny, isn't it?

when you were in kindergarten didn't your parents say,
"reach for the stars!" and
"you can do it!"
yeah well, that was when we all wanted to be firefighters and policeman
when we all wanted to be doctors and presidents

try telling your parents you might want to become and actress
might
even the smallest possibility that you won't be normal
and you learn that everything they told you in kindergarten was
straight-up, no lie
b u l l s h i t

from you too
and that just plain out hurts
we were always supposed to be on the same side
fighting for freedom of individuality and independence together
but is i grow older i again realize,
b u l l s h i t

it hurts, but again makes me more determined
maybe God is putting this hurdle in my life
so that i can fight harder
so that i can try harder
so that i can experience happiness on my own

and you only need one person to chase a dream
so bring it on

the schizophrenic with the sparkling eyes

i have see him at the bus station
twice
he blends in with the mass, but has a look in his eye that sparkles and shines
he smiles to himself, a sweet shy smile that is only for him
he talks to everyone around him, straight-forwardly and honestly
he doesn't hide, and that's what i like about him

i imagine things about him
what his childhood was like, what his adulthood is like
and the story unfolds in my mind as i wait for my bus

i find myself wishing that he has a special girl that he likes
rooting for him, that she liked him back
if you saw him you'd know he deserved a sweet girl
his eyes just scream out that he knows what love is
they just sparkle and shine

i imagine his name is something simple
but something you can't forget

i see him loping with his big backpack and tall frame
from the hospital to get on the bus
sometimes i see him getting off,
and see him walking in that same direction
once again
i have a feeling he goes to the hospital everyday
and is friends with all the nurses
he would know each one by name, and know all the twists and turns of the hospital

he is a youthful sweet-faced man
i picture him at the age of 23
maybe older, but laughter and innocence had kept his features childish

he sometimes has his arm wrapped around someone, who's not there
he always laughs at jokes that no one can hear
and out of the corner of my eye i see him look at something magnificent; things that no one can see

and as the crowd looks away, uncomfortable and scared
i look on in curiosity, and wonder

i want him to show me what is so magnificent that he just has to look at in amazement
i want to ask him, can i meet that sweet girl you have your arm around
i bet she's interesting, even though he would be the only one to know that

he's a schizophrenic
i have heard him say it out loud more than once
but why does he need reality, if what he sees is so beautiful?
why bring him down here to walk among the living and the sane,
if what he sees is so damn interesting?

he should be helping us
there has to be something beautiful on that bus stop that im missing
and he's got it

MY HOT BOY LIST

everyone's got a list

1. gabriel macht*- he's just plain out too sexy he gets a star and, 10
2. shia labeouf- 10
3. johnny depp- 9 1/2
4. james franco- 9 1/2
5. penn badgley- 9 1/2
6. michael cera- my obsession for obvious reasons, 10
7. ashton kutcher- 8
8. peter fachinelli- 8 1/2
9. seth rogen- 8
10. kevin costner- i would like to make it clear ONLY in JFK and, 9
whoops totally forgot:
11. david boreanaz*, 9 1/2
12. mc steamy, 9
13. mc dreamy, 8

six days at the bottom of the ocean

i sunk
the dark water encompasses me
the black water swirls my hair
my body moves in slow motion
as i slowly descend

i hit the sandy bottom
and am caught on a rock
and there i sway, back and forth
six days at the bottom of the ocean

six days, six emotions passed through my chest
six emotions feel heavier than the one felt previously

first, i felt anger
anger that you would try to impede in my life
anger that things had to be so complicated
anger that you did this to me
you striped my flesh from bone

fear, was what i felt on the second day
i looked around me and just saw darkness
the weight of thousands of leagues pushed on my skull
even down here; in silence, i can barely hear myself think
and when i opened my mouth to scream, only a cascade of bubbles poured out of me
the fear wrapped itself in between my ribs
throughout my lungs and chocked my throat
and i was scared the passing of time would never change

jealousy, came next
i braced myself for this one
its such and ugly repulsive creature;
jelousy, that latched onto my ankle
like an a big black suckered octopus from under that anchoring rock
so ugly it stayed weighing me down until my six days were up

the days melted one into another, one black starless night
at the bottom of the cold atlantic
ice slashed my skin, never ceasing

right on time, greed came slothfully and sneakingly upon me
greed looked me in my face, i noticed greed had dead black holes for eyes
greed's white bony hand reached out
in it was the most beautiful blackened dream i have ever seen
but it turned to muddy sand in my hand
and my tears floated up to the surface

...

but then these things started to melt away
like black and red and silver ink through clear water
floating, constantly changing depth and form
up and up where the fisherman scoop it up,
and feed it to millions

as the black ink melted from my pores
it evaporated into the water around me
making me clean
even though it seemed i would always be anchored to the heaviest weight

i stopped struggling
and i accepted
that i cannot do this alone

on the next day, i felt understanding;
that i wasn't the only one
as i realized this, i looked out around the black valley of ocean ground
and saw thousands of corpses
anchored to the ground
becoming alive with love as the ink left their bodies

the sixth day passed in a blur
each new thought a epiphany
each new emotion a gift
each shred of hope an exhilaration

when it was time to leave my lock-down cell
my cage, i realized the key was just lying in the sand, there all along

so i knelt, and scooped it up; like the fisherman
i pushed up off of the ground and floated, almost flew, to the surface

my head finally broke through the last layer of
heaviness and black green ice

i inhaled my first breath in six days
the wind whipped my face and filled my lungs
i looked up the the sky and shouted;
"im free!"

catastrophe and the cure

and i was running
sprinting, my heart beating faster and faster
thumping so hard and powerful-
there has never been anything as powerful
as this one heart beat

running
i can feel it
i can see the light
im scaling a mountain
and my legs run on their own
and i follow

and i made it
to the top
o, the view is so beautiful from up here!
come join me
run! before its to late. run!

i stare at our my life below
the car crash, the catastrophe
i realize i don't have the cure
but i cut the cord of doubt
and run

as im here
i pull my face to the sun
and it shines and makes me warm and safe
i lift my arms and stand at the top of the mountain

the breeze entangles my hair behind me
and i open my mouth
and scream
and leave my catastrophe behind

but then the earth's weight crushed my lungs
and clipped my wings
my legs are moving on their own
back down that mountain; the fog covers me
and i scream

i dig my finger nails into the earth
to try to keep me there
but my muscles explode
and i am dragged, pulled, and tangled

like a moth caught in a web
like a guilty child caught in a lie
like a human being caught in sin
like a pig to the slaughter house

i plunge to the foot of the mountain
tears stream my face, black soot down my face
and i look up
just as the sun leaves the sky
just as the sun inches up and up
over that same mountain
and im left in darkness

but i still feel your presence
you wipe my bloody knees and in my ear:
"till tomorrow"
you whisper in the breeze
and i believe you
with i love you on my lips
and hope in my eyes

explosions in the sky

this is my favorite band.
explosions in the sky.
they create seriously the most beautiful sounds i have every heard.
i love just putting in my earphones, and listening to this music.
every single song develops as you listen it,
creating a mood and a story.

the instrumentals and just takes my breath away
because sometimes it pinpoints exactly how i feel
and runs with it, making my feelings
something i can comprehend in the most beautiful and powerful way:
music.

i have decided i want to write a poem on every single song, and post them
here, one by one. each poem will be inspired by each song.
and just.. i don't know well see how this music ends up inspiring
me more than it already has.

listen to them. i promise you won't be disappointed.
songs:
catastrophe and the cure
it's natural to be afraid
welcome, ghosts
the birth and the death of the day
remember me as a time of day
six days at the bottom of the ocean
first breath after a coma (which i named my blog after)
snow and lights
glittering blackness
magic hours
time stops
memorial
so long, so lonesome
look into the air
a song for our fathers
your hand in mine
the only moment we were alone

hope and soul to ash

my friend Mia greeted me recently,
her words rang (and still ring) through my head,
throwing back all the promises i had said.

Mia asked me to follow her,
to finally let go, and be free,
to open my eyes, and see what we could be.

but i hesitated and stopped in my tracks;
frightened, that if i follow i might never come back.
but she noticed i was still enticed through the fear so:
she grabbed me, with her long spindly arms, and started stripping me of everything i lacked.

she opened her mouth, a huge black hole, wider and wider.
out came a thick swarm of black bees, buzzing around me with their mechanical sound.

she then attacked my two close friends named Soul and Worth;
bit holes in their rosy pink cheeks, stripped them as well, until they gave in.

Mia reshaped them, replacing their cream bones with aluminum and steel.
she started sowing their pretty red lips shut with a rusty needle and thick thread;
the red crimson blood poured down their porcelain chins, until they couldn't scream.
but they would never scream, convinced the danger of Mia was all in their head.

my beautiful Soul and Worth squirmed on the cold concrete.
their porcelain faces burnt and seared,
their glass hands cracked and splintered,
Mia's chains cut into their skin,
the darkest place, they feared.

their eyes were sunken and glistening black,
as they curved and huddled for warmth,
the bones of steel poked through their backs.

they waited for the warmth the could never come,
instead the coldest wet air slothfully crawled into their lungs;
and took them from within.
it dawned on them (and me), the song of Soul and Worth would never be sung.

Mia knew this was the end, laughed, and went in for the kill;
i closed my eyes and all i heard whas the sharp high screams, so loud and shrill.

Mia took me above to look down and the sickening scene,
she smiles and winked and said, "follow me?"
i looked down at my Soul and Worth,
and i knew it was a sick masochistic lie.
but i still agreed, my heart beating fast, and joined Soul and Worth,
on the cold concrete, shriveled to ash, and died.

good friends

dear brian,
im glad were good friends.
i knew we would be
when we dont have to make amends
after every thing we say

i knew we would be
when you joked about my garlicy breath
after i ate stonefire
but you hugged me anyways
and walked me to my car

i knew we would be
when you played your guitar
and i sang "im yours" and you knew it was something special
because i never sing in front of people

i knew we would be
because when you walk me to my class
you know your's is a school away
but you take crap from mrs. hong anyway

i knew we would be
when we make plans to teach me guitar
and we follow through
because you know it something i've always wanted to learn
but have never had the time

i knew we would be
because you know that i don't need drama in my life right now
and you are the easiest person just to talk and hang out with

thanks brian, for being such a good friend. (:

as time sprints out

i cannot fucking breathe.
i cannot fucking type.
i cannot fucking think about anything besides how you keep coming into my life.
i thought i left you behind.
i've tried everything.
i go on not thinking about you for days. but then you pop into my head, and i push it away.
but what do you FUCKING THINK i am supposed to do when i actually see a picture of you for the first time?
my heart starts to beat faster and i cant even breathe right now.
you're so innocent in that picture.
... you like so much like me and my father.
to even think, you look so much like me.
to even think, you look so much like.. what i used to look like.
what am i supposed to do?
there's no way to meet you.
and yet, in a way, i love you.
but i hate that you have to fucking look like me and my father.
why.
how am i supposed to live in oblivion, which i wish i could.
when you've already taken your first steps when you've already said your first words.
or maybe you havent, i don't know.
all i can do is keep breathing.
but i can barley do that when you keep coming up.

i can barely even hate her either, but i know i should.
im so scared. i don't think i have ever felt more scared.
that im running out of time for you.
time is just running so fast, as i ignore the huge problem staring me in the face, it becomes more and more too late!
what am i supposed to do?
im powerless, i have never felt as powerless in my life.

i cannot ever meet you.
but i will always love you.

im crying as i fricken write this but as much as i wish i could blame you.
i can't.
i wish i could just say it's your fault! but even i feel so guilty and responsible for not trying as hard as i could for you.
hate and love are both raging inside me.
all because of one innocent being.
you will never know how much i love you.
but i don't know if i can fight for you, i've tried.

grow up strong baby brother.
i love you. please please know that i haven't abandoned you.

ode: recollections from the stage

ode: recollections from the stage
and remembrance of imitation of an alter persona
by: suhleenuh myhoney

on the hard wood stage, my feet stand still but my knees are shaking.
my heart pumps blood over exuberantly;
fluttering like a humming birds wings, it pollen for the taking.
the bright white light fires, exposing every twitch of my countenance.
i plaster a smile onto my face, so big it splits my head in two.
my muscles twitch; i tread lightly as if an ocean of acid awaits me.
sometimes i tread upstage to be shielded by the throng, another pawn in musical chess.
sometimes i tread downstage to outwardly conduct myself in a prodigious fashion.

as i sit in my lock down cell, my island, i pine for my stage.
an echo of the white light stings my skin; the same song abounds through my mind.
i hum in agreement, no longer amused by my day to day ordinances.
the clock's small hand rounds its face, shy of when the sun begins to descend.
i enter the theater again, the smell of fresh paint and parchment emitted through the glass entry way.
i view a haughty prodigy harping shakespearean lines, globules producing on his forehead.
i spot a dreamer, an onlooker, in beatitude with the prodigy's chimera of a performance.
i am the dreamer, onlooking on the raw talent of the others, dumbfounded on how i even made it to the back row.

as the white light shines on the facade once more,
one's eyes travels over the intertwined stories of the eager eyes, always watching.
i spy one with crevasses carved deep in her aged face, her mouth agape, a smile plays across her face.
she watches in amusement, the echo of the white light stings her skin too.

as i sing, her mouth opens wider, no stranger to the lows and highs of the notes.
as my brow furrows, her wrinkles cave in deeper; no stranger to the imitation of sadness or despair.
as she is in remembrance of the stage, she is youthful.
she is in remembrance of the imitation of the alter personas she preformed when her curtain opened.
i will become the old woman.

being in the presence of genius, inspires me to step out from the mass.
the flat piece of wood hold hundreds of layers of paint,
hundreds of performances the required someone to push through their consciousness;
and become and alter being that breaths, feels and reacts.
to be a half- hearted wallflower on your own personal island
is acceptable if you become every aspect of a wallflower on the stage full heartedly.

HSM2: all for one

last day doing HSM2.
and for some reason this bright and early morning-
i don't really feel that sad.
i've been "singing all for one" for 5 fucking tiring months.
but tonight i know i will miss it.
i've been with my HSM family for 5 fucking tiring motnhs!
how can i not miss that?
humuhumu will forever play in my head- even though to this day
i still don't know the words. <-- i seriously just chuckled at myself
as i wrote that.

as my own personal closing ceremony, it think ill write a blurb
about the people i was close to (or not so close to) during
my fa-fa-fabulous stay at the country club with my wildcats.
im trying not to make it specific but if you know me, you'll most likly know who im talking about. whatevs.

girl #1: i fucking love your guts. you as so amazing and im glad
we were telepathic sistahs. and no, i don't just love you for your
GRAY car (it's gray- trust me) but you must admit it helped us
get from my weedle apt. to the theater. and without my doctor phil/
wing women i do not think it would have been possible to get through my dating woes.

boy #2: you are hilarious. some people don't get your crazy sense of humor but you make me pee my pants. every time. im happy for your new love- if someone deserves a man, it's you. i look at you and im like: this guy's going to freaking do something with his life. you're on my top- congrats.

girl #3: what to say. you have a personality that is defiantly love or hate. i mostly love it. you remind me less of like, a friend, and more like a sister because we do have highs and lows but we always have fun. you're a great girl and im glad i got to know someone so unlike myself. but, i do see a little of me in you sometimes. we're chicas. and we can hit on m**t anytime. and please stop wearing thongs. because your under garments always cause some drama.

boy #4: hmm. ok i totally liked you at one point but now im so freaken glad were just amigos. lets not ruin our great friendship. no matter where were hanging out its always a good time. im glad we got to know each other more in this HSM then the last one. you have a whole freaken lot to offer a girl someday, don't waste it.

boy #5: i used to think you were so cute and innocent, but hey, i guess i was wrong. but every girl like surprises. ;) ok. that was a joke. if i were to say something totally anonymously and you would never find out (hm, like this blog for instance?) i would probably tell you that not to let attention ruin your innocence. you're a newbie in the game of love, (like the rest of us) and i know a great girl out there would like that. someone will look through the amount of times you say "hitler" in one day and just dig you. for sure.

boy #6: ok, here's a boy that has retained his innocence throughout the attention. this is why everyone is more drawn to you, then your counterpart. you're so awkward and like, so unsmooth around the ladies. this gives you your charm! you showed me that you don't have to pretend you're something that your not. i know we will not talk after the show, but i really do hope i see you like. having a good girlfriend one day. you freaken deserve it.

girl #7: you've been through fucking a lot. i can tell. but you show up every rehersal and do your thing, even if it's hard sometimes. i know you been through a lot of crap with specific boys out there tugging you around but you're beautiful just the way you are. you need someone that will focus on you, not you, and other girl(s). because you have so much to offer. and im so glad we got to know eachother, again, more than the last HSM. im on your side chica.

girl #8: you have a personality that is defiantly more hate than love. to be honest. i've never shown you that i liked you, because i don't. to be blunt. but i completely understand were you're coming from. i can tell the way you act around people is a shield because you're insecure. there's a light toward the end of the tunnel, and if you just let down your exterior i know people have the possibility of really getting to know/ liking you for who you are.

boy #9: you are way to old for me but you're freaken sexy. keep it up. im kidding. you have a great sarcastic humor, like me. you're just an all around good guy and please just keep your hair blonde. please.

girl #10: your one of my favies just because you're an all around likable, no drama girl. like theres never anyone gossiping about you, no one ever saying shit about you. thats because you're just so loveable. (: i would like to see you take center stage sometime soon, you've spent far to long on the side lines. maybe you'll be good, maybe you won't but you should defiantly take a chance.

girl #11: ok i have no freaken clue what to say about you because everything i have heard about you has been from other people. really bad, and really good. i don't think i would go actually out of my way to get to know you, as horrible as that sounds. one peice of advice: do not ever wait around for that guy. i have, and its not worth it.

girl #12: your own bestfriend doesn't appreciate you, but i can see why she would even call you her bestfriend in the first place. to me, you are like the sweetest person and im glad you get to be apart of the HSM2 crew because you wanted to be so badly after you saw HSM1. my advice for you: be strong and don't take shit from anyonee.

i haven't done everyone. but who i have done, you stand out to me. im going to miss this. alot.

GO WILDCATS.

2010 sucks lets go back to the 1920's

lets just put it out there.
i am in love. with 1920's.
if i were to go back in some trippy time machine,
without a doubt i would be in the roaring 20's.
why? cuse everything was new and changing and exiting.

women were reforming how the world thought about them.
to become more masculine they all cut their hair short in bobs and wore their boobs flat.
they wore short dresses and put on make-up and swore in public.
which was a big deal.
they danced and jazz spots. jazz itself was new. everything was new.
this was the time of the harlem renaissance, and blacks paved so many roads through their music.
no one thought about the legacy they were leaving behind. only about the moment they were in now.
and thats what i love about it.
of course this isn't all it was about. i could hardly describe it in a couple sentences.
i could spend forever.

i remember i was watching a video in my mod civ class about the 1920's.
the kid behind me snored and my friend quietly took mandatory notes.
but i was so caught up in watching this boring intellectual video.
and old woman was talking about growing up in the 1920's.
she said, "flappers knew how to have fun, but they were classy about it. but not the vamps.
they didn't care what anyone thought about them".
they were just like the sluts and whores of 2010. but i swear, something was different about it.

every era has something interesting to say about it:
the 20's.
the 30's.
the 40's.
the 50's.
the 60's.
the 70's.
the 80's.
and what then?

when we explain to our kids what was so cool about the times we live in, what will we say? absolutely nothing.
2010 sucks lets go back to the 1920's.

lets throw rocks at boys and call it a day.

there's this guy.
he asked me to formal.
and i said no.
i am either completely mental or i don't even know what because he's such a good guy.
it seems.
that's just the thing. he likes me and he doesn't even know me.

he doesn't even know that i love pride & prejudice or listen to trippy guitar music.
he doesn't know that i love watching stupid shows like icarly and he doesn't understand my sense of humor.
he doesn't know that my greatest fear is my life amounting into a huge boring cliche.
he doesn't know that i run from every boy i've ever liked. just in case things get too deep.

and yet.
and all i keep hearing is,
"aye, my fran ozz wants to hook it up."
"aye you, you like my fran?"
"aye you. he thinks you fine."
because this is just what every girl wants to hear, right?
cuse doesn't it just sweep you off your feet when mr. prince charming thinks you have a nice ass and big boobs?
woohoo! 3 cheers for treating a girl like property!
now don't i just sound like a feminist.

boys are stupid. lets throw rocks at them.