Sunday, October 26, 2008
My Pooh-Bear
Do you remember the feeling you got when you realize you lost your favorite toy when you were little? Well, my comfort toy was my pooh-bear and I remember how it was for me when I forgot it at my mom’s house. I was alone. I was in despair, for my world was torn apart and there was no reason to go on living so you just brake down and cry.
Well, my whole point of this is the not the lost feeling, but the feeling when you get that toy back. Your heart sings with unreserved joy!
After my whole rant here, this blog is about what makes you really, truthfully happy. That new Prada bag isn't going to give you the same joy as that toy that you once had. After a while that bag (that is so not worth what you paid for it), looses its effect. It is so last season. You can't be seen with an outdated Prada! Pfffft! Now… that pooh-bear will never be outdated, outdone, nor will I be sad about what I once paid for it.
So. Back to an actual story that will, like you know, relate to what I just slowly killed you with in the last few paragraphs.
When I was three I was given a Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal, at the time it was almost as big as I was. I had grown very attached to the stuffed animal since the moment I saw it, I spent all my time with the thing. When I didn’t have the strength I would drag it on the ground and this caused the toy to become very dirty and mauled looking, but I loved it all the same. I sat him at the table with me when I ate, he slept with me, and on several occasions my parents would find him in the bathtub with me. I loved pooh-bear, he was my best friend.
Growing up I had to wean myself away from the pooh-bear. My mom’s boyfriend at the time had sold it at a pawnshop for money (or so she thought[who would sell an old tattered toy like it, and expect to get money from it I’ll never know]). And so I was forced to face the cruel reality that I would never get to snuggle my pooh-bear again. Of course I got older and slowly, I began to forget about my favorite stuffed animal. Not until just recently had my mom discovered the animal in one of her rented storage sheds in Midvale, when she presented it to me at first I had no recollection of the toy; But minutes passed and my mom renewed memories in my mind of all the adventures pooh-bear and I had together.
After you have been reunited with the toy you have missed so much, you don't ever want to let it go again. You love it. My Pooh-Bear is my family, figuratively speaking. You can't replace it, it doesn’t go out of season, and it will always be worth more than your damn Prada bag. Way more.
Well, my whole point of this is the not the lost feeling, but the feeling when you get that toy back. Your heart sings with unreserved joy!
After my whole rant here, this blog is about what makes you really, truthfully happy. That new Prada bag isn't going to give you the same joy as that toy that you once had. After a while that bag (that is so not worth what you paid for it), looses its effect. It is so last season. You can't be seen with an outdated Prada! Pfffft! Now… that pooh-bear will never be outdated, outdone, nor will I be sad about what I once paid for it.
So. Back to an actual story that will, like you know, relate to what I just slowly killed you with in the last few paragraphs.
When I was three I was given a Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal, at the time it was almost as big as I was. I had grown very attached to the stuffed animal since the moment I saw it, I spent all my time with the thing. When I didn’t have the strength I would drag it on the ground and this caused the toy to become very dirty and mauled looking, but I loved it all the same. I sat him at the table with me when I ate, he slept with me, and on several occasions my parents would find him in the bathtub with me. I loved pooh-bear, he was my best friend.
Growing up I had to wean myself away from the pooh-bear. My mom’s boyfriend at the time had sold it at a pawnshop for money (or so she thought[who would sell an old tattered toy like it, and expect to get money from it I’ll never know]). And so I was forced to face the cruel reality that I would never get to snuggle my pooh-bear again. Of course I got older and slowly, I began to forget about my favorite stuffed animal. Not until just recently had my mom discovered the animal in one of her rented storage sheds in Midvale, when she presented it to me at first I had no recollection of the toy; But minutes passed and my mom renewed memories in my mind of all the adventures pooh-bear and I had together.
After you have been reunited with the toy you have missed so much, you don't ever want to let it go again. You love it. My Pooh-Bear is my family, figuratively speaking. You can't replace it, it doesn’t go out of season, and it will always be worth more than your damn Prada bag. Way more.
Labels: Childhood, Love, Stuffed Animal, Toy, Winnie the Pooh
--Cloud Envy.
10:15 AM
0 commented
10:15 AM
0 commented
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
An Upsetting Realization
Early in the period the Yearbook Staff went around the school and passed out little sheets of paper which were supposed to signify awards; Several slips were given to kids in my class, and I also was given one. Upon receiving it I leisurely read it over and wasn’t surprised, it said:
Congratulations!
You have won best artist of the school!
Come to room #156 During homeroom
to get your picture taken for the yearbook!
I wasn’t surprised because I had won the Art Student of the Month for October, and put all of my energy and time into my Art and Photography class, but of course I was pleased. After reading the slip a deep and heavy sigh escaped my lips while my eyes concentrated on the digital clock; I was impatiently awaiting the bell to ring and dismiss my seventh period class. I focused my eyes and bit at my lip, straining my brain to make the laws of time change for my will- I was unsuccessful, and so I sat in my seat listening to the subs nasally voice bark out the answers to the worksheets we were grading.
There were several attention-seeking no good misfit idiots arranged sparingly around the classroom that would occasionally interrupt her making the time pass even more slowly. I growled under my breath in frustration cursing all the idiots and especially the sub, the only person hearing my barely audible whispers was my table partner. She would chuckle slightly at my threats, finding my annoyance in the situation amusing. I had never had a good past with subs, but this sub was the worst: She was old (one of those stupid old people that think they’re always right, and when they’re proven wrong they act like the correct answer is what they thought the entire time) and her voice was nasally and high; it made my ears hurt. I sat there getting more and more irritated as the minutes passed by, I was correcting my partners worksheets- but of course she didn’t do it so there wasn’t anything to correct, so it left me to sit there and observe all the nuisances and condemn all the pests to the deepest pits of hell. My day hadn’t been a good one, so it had left me very irritable especially because it was the end of school. Finally when my hostility was reaching its peak, the bell rang and the class exploded out of their seats. I cradled my binder and textbook to my chest as I slowly waited for my peers to file out of the room.
I walked slowly from the classroom to my locker, usually I would be in a haste to get home, but I was tired and sore. The rest of the world seemed to be much faster than I was today, but I let people push on by,” Who cares how fast I go? I’ll get there all the same”, I said to myself to suppress my anger of the impolite people. I was approaching my locker when a grunt expressed my frustration, my locker neighbors were still packing to go home. The people who use the lockers next to mine never have the decency to scoot over and allow me to get into my locker until all of their things are packed away, I snorted at them and hastily pushed them aside; I had no time for manners. Of course they guffawed and huffed at my behavior, but I didn’t care. “My day is going terrible, I have the right to be mean” I thought. I placed my three binders and thick book The Count of Monte Cristo into my backpack, and swung it over my shoulder carelessly kicking my locker shut. I turned on my heel to head out the doors, the doors to freedom of the educational chaos.
It was chilly outside, and a light breeze tickled at the skin of my cheeks. I was thankful I had worn my jacket today. I slowly glanced over the vehicles lined up along the curb, I was looking for my ride, I didn’t spot it. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed my grandma’s phone number. The dialing tone blared in my ear several times until I was forwarded to her voicemail. I became frustrated and hung up, afterword dialing her number numerous times and repeating the ritual. I huffed and started walking along the sidewalk, apparently I wasn’t getting a ride today. As I was boiling over inside, I remembered my grandma telling me yesterday that she probably wouldn’t be able to pick me up because of a doctors appointment. At that moment I received a text, I dug around in my pocked for my phone and read the message, “Nate’s dad is crazy!” I quickly replied with the question “Why?” The sender of this text was my best friend, he had skipped school today. *This was the main reason my mood was so glum and irritable, I had spent the majority of the day worrying why he wasn’t at school until I texted him during 4th period and received the answer Because I’m staying home with friends, skipping. I have always tried to pound the importance of school into my friend’s thick skull, and his rebellion against all that is good always upset me, but today it really took its toll. I had walked about a block before I got a reply to my question, “He’s trying to kill us!” He was referring to himself, Nate, and Julian.This sent worry quickly across my face and mind, and I called him on instinct. I became nervous because he didn’t answer for several rings of the dial tone, and when he did his voice was a characteristic “Yeahhh?” I demanded him to tell me what he meant when he said He’s trying to kill us! and he replied, “Oh yeah well his dad found out he skipped at my house and so he’s been bangin’ on the door all day and threatening to call the cops”, something like this wasn’t new news to me… He, my friend, was reckless beyond reason but while he was giving me the explanation Nate shouted in the background “Get off his back girl, you’re not his mom!” (he said this thinking I was calling my friend to yell at him for skipping) Because of Nate’s outburst, I didn’t listen much to my friends details of the text. The outburst sent a sudden wave of emotion through my body, and I quickly snapped into the phone “Okay, goodbye” before I rudely hung up.
I no longer was fretting over the distance I had to walk to get home; I wasn’t mumbling about the stupid sub, all that I could think about were those words. You’re. Not. His. Mom. Before I knew it my feet had lead me home, I stepped through the front door and walked to the kitchen. Not until then did the emotion and weight of what had been said fell upon me. All my feelings and emotions and fatigue from the day I had experienced blasted me at once, and I sagged down to kneel upon my knees. I blankly stared at my hands and the ground, until I came to a nasty revelation: He was right, I’m not his mom.
* Refer to my previous Blog for further information and in depth detail about why I was upset about him skipping, and the emotion and protectiveness I have for him.
Congratulations!
You have won best artist of the school!
Come to room #156 During homeroom
to get your picture taken for the yearbook!
I wasn’t surprised because I had won the Art Student of the Month for October, and put all of my energy and time into my Art and Photography class, but of course I was pleased. After reading the slip a deep and heavy sigh escaped my lips while my eyes concentrated on the digital clock; I was impatiently awaiting the bell to ring and dismiss my seventh period class. I focused my eyes and bit at my lip, straining my brain to make the laws of time change for my will- I was unsuccessful, and so I sat in my seat listening to the subs nasally voice bark out the answers to the worksheets we were grading.
There were several attention-seeking no good misfit idiots arranged sparingly around the classroom that would occasionally interrupt her making the time pass even more slowly. I growled under my breath in frustration cursing all the idiots and especially the sub, the only person hearing my barely audible whispers was my table partner. She would chuckle slightly at my threats, finding my annoyance in the situation amusing. I had never had a good past with subs, but this sub was the worst: She was old (one of those stupid old people that think they’re always right, and when they’re proven wrong they act like the correct answer is what they thought the entire time) and her voice was nasally and high; it made my ears hurt. I sat there getting more and more irritated as the minutes passed by, I was correcting my partners worksheets- but of course she didn’t do it so there wasn’t anything to correct, so it left me to sit there and observe all the nuisances and condemn all the pests to the deepest pits of hell. My day hadn’t been a good one, so it had left me very irritable especially because it was the end of school. Finally when my hostility was reaching its peak, the bell rang and the class exploded out of their seats. I cradled my binder and textbook to my chest as I slowly waited for my peers to file out of the room.
I walked slowly from the classroom to my locker, usually I would be in a haste to get home, but I was tired and sore. The rest of the world seemed to be much faster than I was today, but I let people push on by,” Who cares how fast I go? I’ll get there all the same”, I said to myself to suppress my anger of the impolite people. I was approaching my locker when a grunt expressed my frustration, my locker neighbors were still packing to go home. The people who use the lockers next to mine never have the decency to scoot over and allow me to get into my locker until all of their things are packed away, I snorted at them and hastily pushed them aside; I had no time for manners. Of course they guffawed and huffed at my behavior, but I didn’t care. “My day is going terrible, I have the right to be mean” I thought. I placed my three binders and thick book The Count of Monte Cristo into my backpack, and swung it over my shoulder carelessly kicking my locker shut. I turned on my heel to head out the doors, the doors to freedom of the educational chaos.
It was chilly outside, and a light breeze tickled at the skin of my cheeks. I was thankful I had worn my jacket today. I slowly glanced over the vehicles lined up along the curb, I was looking for my ride, I didn’t spot it. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed my grandma’s phone number. The dialing tone blared in my ear several times until I was forwarded to her voicemail. I became frustrated and hung up, afterword dialing her number numerous times and repeating the ritual. I huffed and started walking along the sidewalk, apparently I wasn’t getting a ride today. As I was boiling over inside, I remembered my grandma telling me yesterday that she probably wouldn’t be able to pick me up because of a doctors appointment. At that moment I received a text, I dug around in my pocked for my phone and read the message, “Nate’s dad is crazy!” I quickly replied with the question “Why?” The sender of this text was my best friend, he had skipped school today. *This was the main reason my mood was so glum and irritable, I had spent the majority of the day worrying why he wasn’t at school until I texted him during 4th period and received the answer Because I’m staying home with friends, skipping. I have always tried to pound the importance of school into my friend’s thick skull, and his rebellion against all that is good always upset me, but today it really took its toll. I had walked about a block before I got a reply to my question, “He’s trying to kill us!” He was referring to himself, Nate, and Julian.This sent worry quickly across my face and mind, and I called him on instinct. I became nervous because he didn’t answer for several rings of the dial tone, and when he did his voice was a characteristic “Yeahhh?” I demanded him to tell me what he meant when he said He’s trying to kill us! and he replied, “Oh yeah well his dad found out he skipped at my house and so he’s been bangin’ on the door all day and threatening to call the cops”, something like this wasn’t new news to me… He, my friend, was reckless beyond reason but while he was giving me the explanation Nate shouted in the background “Get off his back girl, you’re not his mom!” (he said this thinking I was calling my friend to yell at him for skipping) Because of Nate’s outburst, I didn’t listen much to my friends details of the text. The outburst sent a sudden wave of emotion through my body, and I quickly snapped into the phone “Okay, goodbye” before I rudely hung up.
I no longer was fretting over the distance I had to walk to get home; I wasn’t mumbling about the stupid sub, all that I could think about were those words. You’re. Not. His. Mom. Before I knew it my feet had lead me home, I stepped through the front door and walked to the kitchen. Not until then did the emotion and weight of what had been said fell upon me. All my feelings and emotions and fatigue from the day I had experienced blasted me at once, and I sagged down to kneel upon my knees. I blankly stared at my hands and the ground, until I came to a nasty revelation: He was right, I’m not his mom.
* Refer to my previous Blog for further information and in depth detail about why I was upset about him skipping, and the emotion and protectiveness I have for him.
Labels: Anxiety, friendship, grievance, protectiveness, revelation, sad, school
--Cloud Envy.
4:01 PM
2 commented
4:01 PM
2 commented
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Foresight Anxiety
I’m the sort of person who dwells in her friends problems, a lot. I am very close to all of my friends and so if they have something that is wrong, I will get out of my way to try and help them. And if I can’t help them I experience loss of sleep and large portions of my day are spent considering what could be changed to benefit their cause. I do this because I want my friends to be as happy as possible, even if it means that I have to set my goals and wants back, or have to cause myself to be unhappy. Stating this I will tell you about my conundrum:
My best friend is a boy (I get along better with boys, but I will make that a topic for another blog). We’ve been through all sorts of things together, good and bad... I know him like the back of my hand. He’s the sort of friend that I wouldn’t want to lose, no matter what. That I would deny all the valuables and goods in the world, to trade for him. But that’s just the thing… He’s my friend, and really that is all I want him to be. He wants more, of course.
We’ve dated a couple of times, and most times that we did the relationship would break because of me, because I continuously would conclude ‘We’re better off as friends’. And I’m sure that we are better off as friends, because we do make a great couple, but I’m afraid somehow we’d have a terrible breakup as boyfriend and girlfriend and just completely… destroy our friendship, I’ve seen and had it happen before, I’ve learned from my mistakes. But he can’t see it as I do, he thinks that we’re “perfect” and there’s no way in high hell that something like that would ever happen- My past experiences tell me otherwise. That is just one dilemma that I go through daily with him, besides that are the most inner conflicts.
As a comparison, we ARE NOT a good couple. I have straight A’s, and he does too, except for 7 F’s. His grades are terrible, and no matter what I do or say to help motivate him: he refuses. Because of an incident that happened a couple weeks ago (my best friend [when we were dating] beat the hell out of one of my other friends for saying something offending) I set him straight, I literally duct taped his hands behind his back and I held a baseball bat while I interrogated him about his behavior, if he gave me a vague or stupid answer he was hit. In front of witnesses I made him confess why he was so reckless, and why he did poorly in school. After hours we came to the revelation that he just “Wants to have fun”.
It hurts me, because I have done everything in my power to help him… And make him believe that he should be exceeding in school, and living healthy and safe so he has a better future. I never change his mind one bit. And so my attachment to him is starting to wither, because he never listens to me and he’s constantly hurting me with his careless behavior. A survival adaption is to stay away from the things that negatively affect you, right? I’m unsure as to if my decision is the proper one, because I’ve consulted him about how he thinks his actions make me feel, and he knows exactly, but he persists… I will never abandon him, that is something I could never do, not for all the money and goods in the world. But I’ve just got to quit caring as much, because if I keep letting him hurt me it is going to interfere with my progress in school and emotional well being… I just hope, that someday he’ll fall to earth and realize what a ditch he’s digging for himself… And I hope around that time I’ll still be around to pull him out…
My best friend is a boy (I get along better with boys, but I will make that a topic for another blog). We’ve been through all sorts of things together, good and bad... I know him like the back of my hand. He’s the sort of friend that I wouldn’t want to lose, no matter what. That I would deny all the valuables and goods in the world, to trade for him. But that’s just the thing… He’s my friend, and really that is all I want him to be. He wants more, of course.
We’ve dated a couple of times, and most times that we did the relationship would break because of me, because I continuously would conclude ‘We’re better off as friends’. And I’m sure that we are better off as friends, because we do make a great couple, but I’m afraid somehow we’d have a terrible breakup as boyfriend and girlfriend and just completely… destroy our friendship, I’ve seen and had it happen before, I’ve learned from my mistakes. But he can’t see it as I do, he thinks that we’re “perfect” and there’s no way in high hell that something like that would ever happen- My past experiences tell me otherwise. That is just one dilemma that I go through daily with him, besides that are the most inner conflicts.
As a comparison, we ARE NOT a good couple. I have straight A’s, and he does too, except for 7 F’s. His grades are terrible, and no matter what I do or say to help motivate him: he refuses. Because of an incident that happened a couple weeks ago (my best friend [when we were dating] beat the hell out of one of my other friends for saying something offending) I set him straight, I literally duct taped his hands behind his back and I held a baseball bat while I interrogated him about his behavior, if he gave me a vague or stupid answer he was hit. In front of witnesses I made him confess why he was so reckless, and why he did poorly in school. After hours we came to the revelation that he just “Wants to have fun”.
It hurts me, because I have done everything in my power to help him… And make him believe that he should be exceeding in school, and living healthy and safe so he has a better future. I never change his mind one bit. And so my attachment to him is starting to wither, because he never listens to me and he’s constantly hurting me with his careless behavior. A survival adaption is to stay away from the things that negatively affect you, right? I’m unsure as to if my decision is the proper one, because I’ve consulted him about how he thinks his actions make me feel, and he knows exactly, but he persists… I will never abandon him, that is something I could never do, not for all the money and goods in the world. But I’ve just got to quit caring as much, because if I keep letting him hurt me it is going to interfere with my progress in school and emotional well being… I just hope, that someday he’ll fall to earth and realize what a ditch he’s digging for himself… And I hope around that time I’ll still be around to pull him out…
--Cloud Envy.
5:19 PM
2 commented
5:19 PM
2 commented
Sunday, October 5, 2008
We may have all come on different ships, but we're in the same boat now.
“It’s funny, you got the whites acting like they’re Black and Mexican; The Mexicans playing Black, And some Blacks trying to be white!” Said this kid at work crew yesterday. Earlier in the day I was laughing at the odd arrangement of kids in my crew, Black, Mexican, and White; but after hearing the kid say that, I started to really think about it.
Everyone has their own preference towards things, likes and dislikes. If they like something they are going to do/use it. Referring to the quote above, the person who said it is an example of someone with the mindset of what is and isn’t ‘normal’ for a race. When he said this I think he was talking about gangsters, and educated people. His opinion, I think, is influenced by the media. On TV whenever you see a show with gangsters, they are portrayed as Mexicans or African Americans… This has lead him to believe that all gangsters are Mexican or African American, and if a white person is involved in gang related activity it is abnormal. Stating that all Mexicans or African Americans are supposed to be gangsters, its abnormal for them to have high aspirations for decent (or high) income jobs. Bull.
The United States of America could be considered a melting pot, this conveys the image of many different cultures all blended into one English-speaking American. I learned this definition in social studies and history but now, in this age I’m finding flaws within it. There are illegal aliens crossing the Mexican-American border, which come to this country and don’t even put in any effort to learn our language. My father is deeply racist he thinks that it is wrong for anyone to come across our border*, but his influence hasn’t swayed me in having my own beliefs; I think it is wrong for them to come illegally into our country, but if they do it they should at least learn our damn language. Everyone in the United States (besides Native Americans) could be considered immigrants, because we all came from different countries to settle this country.
Now that the above has been stated, I find it surprising how many categories we as human beings are placed in (in the U.S.A.) It goes something like this: race, ethnicity, culture, language, gender. Discrimination in this country is a big issue, but I think it’s stupid. We don’t need to discriminate, if someone can speak the English language and live in America they should be considered American and should no longer be categorized or judged.
Its silly how most people have a mindset of what is acceptable or ‘normal’. Depending on their race, ethnicity, culture, language, or gender people think they’re supposed to act a certain way; and if they don’t they are considered posers of a different race, ethnicity, culture, language, or gender. Someone should not be judged because of these ‘categories’, everybody has their own identity and a part of it is dependent upon the categories, however a large portion is defined by personality, aspirations, and perseverance.
Prejudice, Racism, favoritism, ignorance, and injustice in general in the United States need to stop; It has been an ongoing conflict and reason for many quarrels throughout the years. “We may have all come on different ships, but we're in the same boat now”, this is a quote from Martin Luther King Jr. I think it basically summarizes what I’ve been trying to say. Forget our differences and lets all work together towards the same cause, Let’s make the United States a more powerful nation with our unity and acceptance of one another and our individuality.
*[located at third paragraph] He only focuses on the Mexican-American border, when Canadians cross the border to come into our Country everyday, and no fuss is made. Racism.
Everyone has their own preference towards things, likes and dislikes. If they like something they are going to do/use it. Referring to the quote above, the person who said it is an example of someone with the mindset of what is and isn’t ‘normal’ for a race. When he said this I think he was talking about gangsters, and educated people. His opinion, I think, is influenced by the media. On TV whenever you see a show with gangsters, they are portrayed as Mexicans or African Americans… This has lead him to believe that all gangsters are Mexican or African American, and if a white person is involved in gang related activity it is abnormal. Stating that all Mexicans or African Americans are supposed to be gangsters, its abnormal for them to have high aspirations for decent (or high) income jobs. Bull.
The United States of America could be considered a melting pot, this conveys the image of many different cultures all blended into one English-speaking American. I learned this definition in social studies and history but now, in this age I’m finding flaws within it. There are illegal aliens crossing the Mexican-American border, which come to this country and don’t even put in any effort to learn our language. My father is deeply racist he thinks that it is wrong for anyone to come across our border*, but his influence hasn’t swayed me in having my own beliefs; I think it is wrong for them to come illegally into our country, but if they do it they should at least learn our damn language. Everyone in the United States (besides Native Americans) could be considered immigrants, because we all came from different countries to settle this country.
Now that the above has been stated, I find it surprising how many categories we as human beings are placed in (in the U.S.A.) It goes something like this: race, ethnicity, culture, language, gender. Discrimination in this country is a big issue, but I think it’s stupid. We don’t need to discriminate, if someone can speak the English language and live in America they should be considered American and should no longer be categorized or judged.
Its silly how most people have a mindset of what is acceptable or ‘normal’. Depending on their race, ethnicity, culture, language, or gender people think they’re supposed to act a certain way; and if they don’t they are considered posers of a different race, ethnicity, culture, language, or gender. Someone should not be judged because of these ‘categories’, everybody has their own identity and a part of it is dependent upon the categories, however a large portion is defined by personality, aspirations, and perseverance.
Prejudice, Racism, favoritism, ignorance, and injustice in general in the United States need to stop; It has been an ongoing conflict and reason for many quarrels throughout the years. “We may have all come on different ships, but we're in the same boat now”, this is a quote from Martin Luther King Jr. I think it basically summarizes what I’ve been trying to say. Forget our differences and lets all work together towards the same cause, Let’s make the United States a more powerful nation with our unity and acceptance of one another and our individuality.
*[located at third paragraph] He only focuses on the Mexican-American border, when Canadians cross the border to come into our Country everyday, and no fuss is made. Racism.
Labels: African American, American, Bias, Catagories, Judgment, Prejudice, Racism, White
--Cloud Envy.
9:24 AM
1 commented
9:24 AM
1 commented