Tiny Dreams

I just watched a movie. A very good movie, at least, in my opinion.

Whip It.

Don't judge me for my awkward and sometimes uncomfortable choice in movies but I really liked this tale of a wretched outcast finding her niché in society and learning what it means to have family, friends, love. That was kind of weird to type but that's what it is because it's a definitely sterotype yet it still tugs at my heart. I tend to avoid cliché movies because I always like them too much. I tend to avoid cliché movies that pretend that aren't cliché even though everyone knows they are because I love them too much.

It's movies like Whip It that make me lay in bed night after night, wondering what is so wrong with me. Why can't I be that girl? Why can't I get that guy? Why can't I have that family? Why can't I have that friend? Don't get me wrong. I like me. I have a sweet Lover. My family is alright. And I have three friends who are my bestests. But after watching these tiresome, cliché movies, I always find myself asking those questions. I don't think anyone has an answer and yet I keep looking into strange eyes and begging unknown souls to tell me why I can't, tell me why someone else gets everything I've been dreaming of. Maybe it's my human side showing. That old saying, "The grass is always greener on the other side." Well right now, I have no grass. It's red mud with the crushed dreams of autum leaves and a thin layer of ice that always brings me crashing down to reality.

On a side note, Ellen Paige makes me want to vomit. She's too adorable and cute. And tiny. She's so tiny. She's so very, very tiny.