I Believe in "Twizzlers".
People ask questions to get to know someone. But when a person asks me what I like, the first thing that comes to my mind is Twizzlers. Some will snicker or agree with me, but it doesn't mean anything to me. Because Twizzlers are more then just a shiny delicious, soft piece of lickerish. Twizzlers is my life and my friend. Twizzlers are there when I'm happy or sad or even mad or glad.
In fifth grade my classmates wanted to wear white shirts on a particular Friday, but I decided I wanted to wear red. So the next day I was the only person who wore a non-white shirt, the only one not scared to be different. I never wanted to be different; I just wanted to be me. I got talked about but I didn't care. Because I didn't blend in with others, but I stood out from them. By me being different probably help someone to try to stand up and be his or her self. The funny thing is even the people who wore the white shirts was talking about the other white shirt followers. They talked about the shirt's wasn't white enough, to long, to short, or even wrinkled. If I'm going to get talked about blending in with a crowd, I rather be myself.
Twizzlers in a way inspires me. It stays in a clear packet with others that look like it but finds away to be an individual. Twizzlers may have slanted bumpy lines on it but it's up to me to make these slanted bumpy lines straight. So when someone asks me what's my favorite candy. I tell them Twizzlers are my favorite candy, but I like them deeper then its taste.
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2 comments:
I think the t shirt story is a good one, but i don't readily make the connection to that story and the Twizzlers. The metaphor keeps shifting. what's the main metaphor?
the first comment still holds true 35/50
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