If you guys could please answer this survey it’s for my math class! Thank you!

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There was a long winding path leading up to the entrance, or maybe it just seemed long because I was so small. You turned the corner and you could see the mangled crab tree that marked the entry way. Sometimes we never even got past that tree, just climbed it and spent hours sitting on its branches eating its sour fruit. However when we did pass it, once the trees embraced us completely, and the smell of musky pine hit us like a brick wall, we had two paths to choose from. One led to a bench on which we kept our valued possessions we had found on our various excursions, one was a rusted feather necklace we found on the ground after a long winter, another was a bullet pulled from a tree after we were caught trespassing, and another was a shard of glass that had been sitting underwater for so long it warped the sunlight into different colours. If we chose the other path, however, we delved into the world of the forest. If you were completely quiet you could hear the loud silence that the trees made, the peaceful screaming of the wind, and the patient rushing of the water. We walked until we came across a fallen tree, split in two. After that was a small stream we hopped over, muscle memory never soaking our shoes, a tight, winding walkway between trees, and then a vast open field, with so many possibilities. To our far right and far left was the dense forest we just escaped. Straight ahead was the careful lines of the planted pine trees. To our immediate left was a long road leading to a farm field, and the right a house. We only visited that house once.

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Forget I Exist

I don’t show emotion

I barely move

People talk at me and I give them a blank stare

If you look close enough,

The line between me and the background is blurred

No one looks at me so the words I type are irrelevant

No one listens to me so the words I say are irrelevant

And I always used to think that if I think they’re relevant,

Than they are

But if I’m always second-best

If I’m always just a concrete statue to come crying to when someone is bored

When other people forget I exist

I begin to forget I exist too.

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Anatomy of Love

I never thought twice about you before

When scanning a room my eyes skipped right over you

It wasn’t until you pulled up beside me

Talked to me

Smiled at me

And I fell in love with your eyes

For five months my heart lay locked away in a cold metal safe

Somewhere between my sternum and my spine

Every time it would knock on the door I wrapped another chain around it

But somehow you thawed it

And I still haven’t quite figured out if that’s a good thing

Or not

In it’s new freedom, 

My heart pushes painfully against my ribs

Displaces my trachea

But what can I do?

I’m not a foolish girl anymore

At least I try not to be

No drama

No tears

 But this hurts

Because three months from now I’ll never see you

And two months after that you’ll be in another city

Another town

Another life

And you’ll have left your heart here

With her.

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I love this feeling
Whether the happiness
or the pain that comes with caring for someone
It helps remind us that we’re human
It’s refreshing to have a love interest
Something to get your heart beating fast
To catch your heart in your throat
After a long winter of nothingness
My heart has finally awoken
And thawed it’s frozen deathbed.

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Wanting to kill yourself is not funny

It’s not a joke

It’s not to be taken lightly

Giving yourself a shallow scrape so the people at school can “ooh” and “aah” is not appropriate 

People kill themselves everyday

Over 2,000 people a day

800,000 people 

See their lives as not worth living

They would rather end it all

Never feel happy again

Never feel love again

Never feel anything again

All so that they never have to 

Feel pain again

The concept of suicide isn’t something a lot of people can wrap their heads around

Soldiers go to war and die all the time

And we mourn them as heroes

But these people do this to themselves

They end their own lives

Obliterate their being

Destroy everything they ever were

And ever would have been


Because of this hell we live in

Some believe in a better world

But most know that after this

Is just a vast nothingness

No more thoughts

No more you

You simply cease to exist

Because you know that anything is better than this

So faking a suicide attempt for attention isn’t cool

Or funny

Or brave

It’s weak and disrespectful

To those who wake up every morning

And lie in bed for an extra few minutes

Wondering why they even bother continuing

Or those who can’t stay too close to a knife

Because the urge to plunge it into their chest is too great

Or those who hold a razor blade to their wrist

Either sobbing quietly so mom and dad don’t hear

Or wailing ugly animalistic sounds

Twisting their face into monstrous expressions of pain

Because they know that these next moments are the last moments of their life

And they’re not good enough.

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Chameleonite Colony

Vogue’s idea of an ideal world consists of women with flawless skin, big eyes, thick lips, and insanely slender bodies
Girls try to achieve this look
All around us
Everyone looks the same
Everyone has slightly altered their natural features with make-up or surgery to make their eyes a little bigger, their skin a little clearer or their nose a little more button-like
Men strive for chiseled muscles, clear skin and a sharp, striking face.
Not to mention being constantly oiled down
(but not sweaty) there’s a fine line
Between perfect
And assimilated.
The best characters have
Was Dumbledore’s nose perfectly straight?
Did Joan of Arc has size zero jeans?
Was Frodo self-conscious about his height?
Just as our differences in personality make us individuals,
Our physical uniquities molds us aswell
We can’t all look the same,
There is no perfect
There is no right way to look
Without that, we would never have any red- faced blubbering overweight drunk men
Or muscular women wielding swords and shields
There would be no small scrawny teenager with acne and braces
Or boisterous women spilling out of their clothes
There would be no characterisation
No difference
No archetypes.
We are ourselves, in every physical
And spiritual meaning of the word
We cannot change who we are
But we can accept it
There are too many people on this earth
To all be the same

Stand out

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