Currently, some of the girls in my middle school have taken to wearing a little crown on their birthday. I love it; it’s a fun way of saying, hey-I’m-pretty-glad-I-was-born! So this post from one of my fave bloggish buds is special. Embracing our true identity isn’t about showcasing me, but Someone much bigger, as in, hey-I’m-so-glad-I-was-born-again! Here it is~~~
See, there's this thing called biology...
This is my crown. I totally love it, I have a thing for fake pearls and delicate leaves. Yes, fake pearls. Call me crazy, but I never really wanted anything that was actually grown in an oyster’s behind.
Guys will have to go get their own crown, this one is mine. No doubt most guys would prefer something a bit weightier anyway, more substantial. Go for it, just remember those card board crowns they pass out at Burger King don’t count. You have to get yourself a real, grown up crown.
There is a lot of tragedy, grief all around me. I suppose there is everywhere, it’s just that it becomes more personal, closer to home in a small area. I know of everyone.
Getting older can be kind of hard, too. Every time some guy does something awful or has something awful done to him, I flash back to…
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