Someone asked me what my biggest problem would be. My biggest problem would be living with a witch. If I did, I imagine her to be a tree. It's a tree who's super duperly irritating and cruel that calling her a witch would be an understatement. I've had enough. My blood's boiling. My eyes are red.
She's a tree. A very irritating tree. With two crooked trunks, a very sneezy nose. Many moles. Her bark is dark as charcoal. She pretends to be Little Miss Grumpy on the outside but Little Miss Sunshine inside. How revolting!! Oh, the horror of having her in my garden or even closer. How I wish I could pull out all the already wilting leaves that she has. Chop her down maybe.
She's a tree who doesn't care about others. Never forgetting and forgiving. Only remembering the silly things one did as a child. She can't even take it as harmless mischief and ignorance of a girl. Laughing at people's imperfections and things that they have and cannot change. Thinking she's the prettiest maiden on Earth. The way it dresses. Oh, it thinks it's so classy and elegant in everyway. Oh no. Instead it's pathetic. Trying and failing to dress well. Like a 3-year old brat trying to dress as a chic 20-year old model.
You know what? At least I don't use vulgarities to vent my anger and frustrations on innocent people. What a foul mouth that tree has. Gazillion bottles of Dettol couldn't fix it. Sharing a meal with it would be like courting death. It's tree sap is as poisonous as all the venom mixed into one. Save me. Save me. Save me.
