I used to dislike being sensitive. I thought it made me weak. But take away that single trait, and you take away the very essence of who I am. You take away my conscience, my ability to empathize, my intuition, my creativity, my deep appreciation of the little things, my vivid inner life, my keen awareness to others pain and my passion for it all.
today in art class a guy made a dick out of clay and when the art teacher was walking around she stopped in front of him and stared at it and just said “it doesn’t look very accurate” and walked away
all the guys at our table were like “how does she know what a dick look like” and she said
“i’m sixty years old and married and have three kids”
The real question is why couldn’t a boy make an accurate dick.
there are some things you just never really get over. like your first broken heart. or when disney channel got a different actress for the fourth halloweentown movie