[Crossposted to LJ]

Let me tell you a story about a girl.

She was a clever girl, but far too manic for most people; she reached too far into tangents and delved a little too deep into the extrapolation of possible realities for their comfort. You see, she'd had it tough for the last few years, starved, battered down by the gloomy hallmarks of monotonous people and cruel intentions. Then in a burst of colour, sudden and brilliant, she coalesced into what people now see when they look at her.

Her problem, and her gift, was that she was a child. She let forth with unprecedented spouts of creative, insane, joyous chatter. She wrote, she painted, she sang, she screamed, she capslocked the hell out of her life. In her ignorance was cruelty, but she didn't know much of pain or suffering, and didn't recognize it when she doled it out.

She grew up a little. Simmered in her juices. Her halcyon days were over. ( RBR, here's looking at you, kid. )

In conclusion: don't be scared. Be smart.