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Random topics 7X (from the 9th dimention)
Here we are again. Or are we? Are you there as much as you say you are? Isn't it something that someone who isn't there would say?! In any case, to show there's no hard feelings for this obvious deception, here are a few topics, you can write on in any way that suits you. By YOU i mean you. 1) create new words in the English language, that better describe life-situations were a Fez is used . (the hat. Not a turban!!). How it looks, how it turns heads, how incredible it makes you feel wearing them, etc.. 2) choking hazards . 3) mating habits of the peragrin cello. 4) many small portions or just one big one? 5)inclement coatracks. 6) it's getting hard to be someone. but it all works out. 7) Trubadore vs. Stevadore. 8) in the terarium no one can hear you scream. 9) list things that come in 9s. 10) post something to clickbait someone. You clickbaiter rascal you.. As usual, if you are time-shifting through the multiverse, give a proper credit to the entity you collaborated with. Use correct interdimentional academic citation rules. Or not...
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Hewman
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in the terrarium no one can hear you scream.

My mother cares so much about the self-image of our family. We all need to look picture perfect. the house is about as nice as an upper-middle-class house can get; we have a trampoline, a pool that all the neighborhood kids (who mom hates) swim in, a perfectly cut lawn, and enough live laugh love signs to build a second house. In the living room, we have a 50-gallon terrarium right above the fake fireplace. You can bet your bottom dollar that mom makes sure that the terrarium looks perfect, she has a Copperband Butterflyfish in there, I call him Toby, mom didn't care to name him. He must be lonely, tired of everyone staring at him, without a place to hide.

I don't have much time to think about Toby, mom put me into every sport possible, I think she just wants all the other moms to know that her kid is playing every sport the school offers. I don't really like sports, I would rather hang out with Toby. I asked my mom if we could get a dog, they're too dirty for us. fish are fancy, that's why it starts with an F. I think mom is wrong, but I am thankful that I can sit with Toby. I hope he doesn't feel like he needs to be anyone special around me. I hate the feeling of needing to act special around others, it is tiring. Nobody knows what my mom is like, I doubt that I do either.

She expects me to act like Toby. No offense to Toby, he's great, but she hates when I speak my mind. She hates when I use my brains that she pays four different tutors to perfect. She wants me to live within her picture-perfect terrarium. I don't like it here; in the terrarium, no one can hear you scream.

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