1. YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (first 3 letters of real name plus izzle): Lucizzle

2. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (color and animal): Blue Jellyfish

3. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, and current street name): Lucy Bracksford

4. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first name, last 3 letters of mom's maiden name): Hollueri (o-o?)

5. YOUR SUPERHERO NAME: (color, drink): Corral Ramune (;o)

6. YOUR WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mothers middle name): Olive... (T///T The burn~)

8. YOUR GOTH NAME: (black, and the name of one your pets): Black Klauss the Mouse

9. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (fruit, and something that can go wrong): Strawberry Biological Weapon

10. YOUR PIRATE NAME: (color, pirate accessory): Blue Eyepatch (Djfhdshfhdsjs~)

I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.
I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.
I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.
We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.
I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.
I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.
I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.
I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.
We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.
I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.
I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.
I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.
I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.
I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.
I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I did not have to always deal with society hating me.
I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.
I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.
I am the person who is afraid of telling his loving Christian parents he loves another male.

This is a true story. A girl died in 1933. A man buried her when she was still alive. The murderer chanted," Toma Sota balcu," as he buried her. Now that you have read the chant, you will meet this little girl. In the middle of the night she will be on your ceiilling. She will suffocate you like she was suffocated. If you post this on your profile, she will not bother you. Your kindness will be rewarded