Gallimaufry of Mind

It really irritates me when girls write like a bunch of hormonal preteens and try to add themselves into fanfiction stories, especially as a fifth Marauder or Marauderette. If you weren’t awesome enough to make it into Jo’s original version, you definitely wouldn’t be good enough to capture the interest of a Marauder and make Sirius or Remus fall head over heels for you; you wouldn’t be good enough to stop Peter from becoming a traitor; and you wouldn’t be good enough to severely complicate James and Lily’s relationship as a Mary Sue. Keep with the original characters and stop trying to add yourself in. Fanfiction is not role play where your life turns into a living Marauder orgy.

Take Avatar: the Last Airbender. Remove Zuko. Place Zuko in his own show. Give him a fan and let his hair blow around his face while he stares dramatically into the distance. You will have a hit show, I promise. No female can resist the power and absolute gorgeousness that is Zuko and his hair.

I have thought long and hard about the elements making up my personality. I am a prankster, a leader, a laughter; I love big words, books, and stealth. I often hide my true rambunctious personality behind a quiet calm. I love to be in control and have others at my command. This complexity could have no other origin but this! So the answer finally hit me today:

I am the love child of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.

The tree stands

a solemn tower of age

Silently, so it would seem, 

but perhaps not.

Listening closely, 

it tells a story

of years and events passed,

witnessed nearby

Through invisible eyes

of leaves and branches.

We are the cheated and the lied,

the utterly despised

Unwelcome, unwanted,

and endlessly judged

because we stand up 

against mankind

and we refuse to be

pushed down

Here’s to the difference,

the few lights in the world

that will fight for what 

they believe in

No matter the cost

Those who have their 

own opinions

and dictate their own actions:

You are not alone

Poetry is best described as words

flowing together, jumbling in a blurred

vision to create the picture

individual and unique to each mind

Words which can be long or short,

create barriers or simple paths, 

and can be spelled outright or

twisted into a confusion of thoughts

as each writer deems fit

And not a single way can be counted

as either correct or wrong because nothing

defines poetry except for the single mind

from which it escapes