Hi my name is Ella Juroku. I now have a Wattpad account where you can read my first story. I tried to put it here but I couldn't manage it. Sorry. Pen name on Wattpad is Ella Juroku all one word. Hope you enjoy the story!

Favorite Quote: "If you can't say something nice don't say anything at all"

Favorite Color: Pink

Eye Color : Hazel

Hair Color: Brown with natural highlights from the Sun.(I only have them in the Summer and Spring.)

Gemstone:Emerald.

Birth Month Flower: Lily of the Valley

Birth Month:May

Birthday :11

Age: A lady never tells!

Zodiac Symbol:Taurus

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TAURUS- The Aggressive One (4/20 - 5/20) MOST AMAZING KISSER. Very high appeal. Love is one of a kind. Very romantic. Most caring person you will ever meet! Entirely creative. Extremely random and proud of it. Freak. Spontaneous. Great at telling Stories. Not a Fighter, But will Knock your lights out if it comes down to it. Someone you should hold on to. 12 years of bad luck if you do not repost.

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Currently Living in: Ohio!

I love to read

Some things that I love:

Betty Boop, Inuyasha, Naruto,NCIS,CSI and Dolphins and Game of Thrones, currently on the first season.

I Strongly dislike people who are mean to others just because they are different!

Put this
(o)on your page
if you like music

Black and White:

A black man was talking to a white man and said: "I'm black. When I was born I was black. When I grew up I was black. When I'm sick I'm black. When I go in the sun I'm black. When I'm cold I'm black. When I die I'll still be black. But you: When you were born you were pink. When you grew up you were white. When you're sick you're green. When you go in the sun you're red. When you're cold you're blue. When you die you'll be purple. And you have the nerve to call me colored. "

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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.

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A girl died in 1933. A man buried her when she was still alive. The murder chanted, "Toma Sota balcu," as he buried her. Now that you have read this chant, you will meet this little girl. In the middle of the night she will be on your ceiling. 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.

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A 15-year-old girl holds hands with her 1-year-old son. People call her a "slut", no one knows she was raped at age 13. People call another guy "fat", no one knows he has a serious disease causing him to be overweight. People call an old man "ugly", no one knows he experienced a serious injury to his face while fighting for our country in the war. Re-post this if you are against bullying and stereotyping. I bet 88% of you won't...

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.••) .•) .•.•) .•)
(.• (.•~pass the ribbon around if you know someone that has survived, DIED, or is living with cancer. Mrs.Tamplin

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