I Love You For Who You Are,

I Have Done What They Expected Of Me. I Have Curtsied For My Queen And Made My Debut. This Is What I Have Anticipated Eagerly For Years. So Why Do I Feel So Unsatisfied? Everyone Is Merry. They Haven't A Care In The World. And Perhaps That Is It. How Terrible It Is To Have No Cares, No Longings. I Do Not Fit. I Feel Too Deeply And Want Too Much.

You Evah Hear Of A Magic Screw?' I Cough Back A Laugh. 'no. No, Sir.

So Much Of The Literature We Had To Read For High School English Class Was Filled With Victimized, Tragic, Symbolic Women Who Spurred The Plot Forward With Their Inevitable Shunning/death/shunning-followed-by-pregnancy-followed-by-death Timelines.

In School, They Would Tell You That Life Wouldn’t Come To You; You Had To Go Out And Make It Your Own. But When It Came To Love, The Message For Girls Seemed To Be This: Don’t. Don’t Go After What You Want. Wait. Wait To Be Chosen, As If Only In The Eye Of Another Could One Truly Find Value. The Message Was Confusing And Infuriating. It Was A Shell Game With No Actual Pea Under The Rapidly Moving Cups.

Beauty, Grace, And Charm My Foot. It's A School For Sadists With Good Tea-serving Skills.