Visiters and a Story

today at school we had a Mass in the gym, and the man who did the homily was a pastor visiting Ohio from Warsaw, Poland. he told us all about his son, and how mcdonalds, burger king, and kfc were 'trash food'. oh, how i love mistranslations. he was really cool though, and in religion class we are making posters based on his main message: be true to yourself', themed around the quote that God doesnt make junk. mine will me beast, trust me.













The girl whizzed down the cemented hill without a care in the world, with the promise of serenity at the bottom. She was almost there, so close, and Smack. She could taste the salty, gravelly blood in her mouth, feel the gritty, stinging gash on her chin. Her hair was matted with blood and pebbles. Then she turned her head slighty, and saw it, her arm, bent and curving like a country lane. Everything felt numb. Her vision fogged, and she started to cry out. But no one heard her. They were busy enjoying the serene peacefulness of the day. She cried until they found her, lying face-down in a pool of thick red liquid. She wimpered until she heard the sirens. After they lifted her into the brilliant red ambulance, she could feel the immense pain. It was pulsing through her like an unwelcomed demon inside her. She wanted to be free, free of the pain, free of the demented arm. But she knew she wouldn't be. She just layed and waited for someone to ask her if she was alright.





^^ THat actually happened to me and it was one of the scariest moments of my life.






my sister just fed my 9-pound chihuahua a whole swedish fish. shes going to town