I'd like to talk about my scars. Most of them are from my older sibling's sharp claws; we fought (read: fight) often. They have a habit of latching onto my limbs and scratching deeply. Either that or they'll get on their back and kick out their strong legs to fend me off. Recently, I've come up with a counteractive fighting technique that seems to be working. That technique being I curl up into a ball and endure the kicking and scratching or I use my superior grip strength to my advantage and get them into a chokehold. Nobody likes being choked so obviously it's a swift victory after that.

I have found that I tend to lean more towards choking as a whole. For example, some kid in elementary school stole a little trinket of mine; I chased him, tackled him, and choked him until he gave it up. I find it ironic how an asthmatic such as myself finds pleasure(?) in depriving others of their own oxygen. Perhaps I enjoy(?) showing them what it's like to struggle for breath I often do. Who knows?

The scars on my knees come from an array of scrapes that have happened over the years. From falling off my bike to tripping on pavement to rugburn from the mats at cheer, the skin on my knees has been through some tough times. I have to be most careful when shaving the hair off of them - that is, whenever I find the motivation to shave my legs.

I remember when I was about seven years old. I had done some stupid thing like all kids do and wound up with a giant gash on my left knee. Funnily enough, I can't remember exactly what it was that I did to end up with the injury. I can only recall the pain that came with every step. It felt like whenever I moved, I was gaining the injury all over again. But well, the wound healed and I was back to picking scabs and being an overall dumbass.

I have a small scar - so small you can barely see it - on the middle finger of my left hand. This one comes from one of the only major injuries I've had in my life. I was trying out for the junior high cheerleading team. I didn't particularly want to try out - I was content with All-Star cheer - but my mother had already signed me up so I was dragged there anyways. During tumbling warm-ups, I was being lazy, sloppy even. I didn't use proper technique when executing skills that I barely mastered. And as a result I - obviously - hurt myself. I was doing a roundoff back handspring but, me being me, I had decided to use my extra momentum to do a back tuck. I landed on my hands and knees, jamming my finger into the mat. When we got to the doctor, he said that I sprained it. I wore a splint for two weeks and was good as new. All I have to show for my pain is a crooked finger and a small scar.

There's a small indent on my left ear. This stems from the only other major injury in my life. (I know, I know, I haven't broken a bone or anything. I've never even been stung by a bee. It may not seem like much but trust me, pain is pain is pain. No matter how big or small, I was hurting nonetheless. So please don't downplay my hurt.) My older sibling wanted to play hide and seek with me. Reluctantly, I agreed and went to hide in our brother's room while they counted. I crouched down on the other side of a shelf of drawers. In the process, I had unknowingly bumped the shelf and knocked down some of the things resting on top. One of those things being a large metal speaker... I think you know where this is going.

One thing that still intrigues me to this day is how the pain sub sighted rather quickly. It's like my little self was making sense of the situation - even with my minor concussion. I didn't really scream until I looked in the mirror and saw all the blood. Seriously, I didn't know it was that possible to bleed that much from your ear. The speaker must've popped a vein or something, I don't know. We waited at the Urgent Care for about an hour before we were seen. The doctor gave me stitches and told me to take it easy for the next couple of days. After a few days, we were seen again and the stitches were removed, my ear being slightly indented.

There are more. Little scars that I've forgotten about over the years. Scars from acne, scars from splinters. Scars from being clumsy, scars from stepping on glass. A small burn mark on my elbow, a mere slash on my hand. I've got countless scars. But, of course, that's only naming the physical. I suppose next time, I'd like to talk about my scars on my brain.

I'm gonna start this off by saying ALWAYS READ THE BOOK ya lazy bums. Although I've seen some really faithful adaptations, it's always better to get the story from the original source, how it was intended to be told. (Also, this is just my opinion so you don't have to take anything I say seriously.)

Okay, now here's the list:

The Hunger Games - You can watch the movies (but like... still read the books though). There are some scenes and characters missing but overall, I really liked how they did it. And I think Jennifer Lawerence really flexed with her acting talent in this one.

The Giver - For the love of God, do NOT try to say you're a fan of The Giver if you've only seen the movie. I think the director took the initial concept of The Giver and just went with whatever they wanted. I mean, I guess they told the same story but... I didn't like it. So in this one, read the book. (You should also read Gathering Blue, Messenger, and Son because I personally liked them a lot.)

Artemis Fowl - Read the books. That's it, that's the whole thing.

Feel free to add to the list. I started it because I all of a sudden got the idea but then realized that I have a terrible memory and can't remember which books I have read that were turned into movies. And there's the thing where I've either read the book and haven't seen the movie (which was surprisingly a big issue for coming up with names) or I've seen the movie and didn't even know it was adapted from a book (i.e Forest Gump).

Okay, that's all.