to sum it up, it's a really good book and you should all get it out of the library and read it!!!!


what it means to be americanThat's the question. I don't think I'm proud to be an American most of the time. A citizen of the U.S.A. Not when I visit the reservation and go to the "museum" and am told that the beautiful carvings were made just last week by a talented young man and can't help but think about how museums are attics for things dead and things lost. Not when they tell me their language was almost lost, especially when small children were torn from their families and forced to assimilate in white schools. Not when I hear about another innocent black man dead from police gunfire. Not when I am watching education crumble deeper into the dark ages, when I thinkwhat it means to be american


Chapter One- a love storyClaraChapter One- a love story
I walked into my first day of tenth grade feeling like a newborn kitten- fragile and blind, vulnerable and confused. It was all new hallways, new people, and new possibilities for disaster in Teeny Tiny Town, New York. It had been tiny towns and nowherevilles my entire life, as I was tugged around the nation by my writer-father's "firsthand research." He'd sold a few books when I was little, all small-town horror slams, and felt that living in small towns learning their superstitions, age-old legends, and unsolved mysteries would give him some much-needed inspiration.
All that moving was giving me a tumor-like
relax
i still have that printed somewhere lol, i loved that peice.
what we were just talkign about just reminded me of that
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Who am I?
I'll let you know when I find out....
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check this clubs: ~wallpaper-club *The3DArtistClub ~3d-studio-max ~3dAnimationgroup ~Shroomery =3D-Asuarus
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Who am I?
I'll let you know when I find out....
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I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. That's my dream. That's my nightmare. Crawling, slithering, along the edge of a straight... razor... and surviving.
Acta est fabula, plaudite!
and thank you for you.
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I watched a snail crawl along the edge of a straight razor. That's my dream. That's my nightmare. Crawling, slithering, along the edge of a straight... razor... and surviving.
Acta est fabula, plaudite!
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