Briecat

Before I start, I'd like to say that I am not trying to hate on any ships, characters or shippers. I'm just stating my opinion, so if you are offended by me having a different shipping preference than you, be a mature person and don't read it. (it goes Kataang -> maiko -> zutara) Firstly, I'm going to start off with Kataang. Now, this pairing doesn't actually bother me too much (I actually wrote a Kataang one-shot that my Kataang friends seemed to like) but there are a few reasons I don't ship it. First off is the maturity difference. I say maturity difference instead of age difference, because, yes, I know there is a two year age dif

Maybe one day You'll understand Why their eyes narrow and their lips turn down when they see you. Maybe one day You'll understand Why they poison you with their words of mockery and hatred. Maybe one day You'll understand Why they spit venom on your pride and crush your self-confidence with the heel of their shoes. Maybe one day You'll understand Why they tinge your flesh black and blue and red. Maybe one day You'll understand Why they slit your wrists and let the blood roll of your arms stain the world vermillion. Maybe one day You'll understand Why they have pushed you into a bottomless pit of despair and are throwing dirt over you to

 I remember when everything was perfect. When the warm breeze was adorned with the sound of carefree laughter and the flowers were fertilised with playful ignorance. When the crisp veridescent grass was flattened by joyful bare feet and sun framed our beaming faces. I remember it so clearly, but so vaguely, like it was yesterday and a millennium ago, all at once. But I need to stop dwelling on the past. As uncle told me: the past is there to guide you, not define you. But for once, uncle's advice isn't helping. It's been 4 years and I still can't let go. Or maybe I keep dwelling on the past because it takes my mind off the present. Its almos

Everyone has their least favourite lesson. Mine is science, which makes it pretty inconvenient that the first lesson of Monday morning is an hour of Miss Cartwright droning on about the periodic table or Ecosystems. The only tolerable part of science is practical chemistry, because it's awesome to watch chemical reactions, but with the pretentious, cautious and overall uptight Miss Cartright as a teacher, we only to have practical chemistry about twice a millennium. As our teacher drones on about Bunsen burners or boron, I take out my notebook and begin to doodle little flowers in it. I've been practicing these little henna flowers that bloss