Miss Shailene Woodley is No One Else but our next door Mudflap Girl. Of course, not necessarily in that posture.
A next-door neighbor type of girl with demure
She gives you this seriously-annoying nostalgia.
She makes you reminisce those gnawning moments of dissents and rebellions quelled with brutish and harsh measures.
Subdued defiance of an would-be anarchist.
A sacred song or poem -- Book of Psalms
Like how some naive birdie preens its feathers oblivious of everything around her.
I believe -- she's to be ambidextrous: Sheer razor-sharp mental agility of someone with an innate aptitude for multiple and diverse talents.
A polymath -- polymathic -- raw tolerable arrogance and I-don't-give-a-damn what if they think I've loud pride. At least, I'm not noisy. End of Interview. Thank you.
We always believe Talismans are inanimate objects of reverence or so -- but this girl is so you know -- like so sparkling lava-hot intense awe. So, now I know why they do that thing: -- obeisance.
Jesus is real. Here's my resignation. Goodbye, NASA.
Here I come My Shooting Star. My Nova. My Diva.
Twinkly eyes or apprehensions of a Bride-To-Be.
Yep. Behead me for heresy. My Destiny.
Believer's El Dorado on The Planet Earth. Er That Houri poof disappeared. Remorse is a vital sign of weak faith.
No soul mates yep -- do people still believe in that Greek myth? Someone once told me poison has tangy taste.
In a nutshell: Miss Shailene Woodley is: The Fall of Icarus -- My first clumsy copycat of Henri Matisse: drawing with scissors.
Pictorial maunderings of a A Whirling Dervish -- dazzlingly bright cutouts -- Glow-in-the-dark -- exquisite papers -- deligently handmade --
She snatched it so menacingly that kaleidoscope -- a make-believe souvenir -- this scar is the deep unhealed wound of my soul -- colored glass pieces like vengeful sharpnels cuts -- I picked up at her doorsteps....
Depressed? Really real?
Look there: She comes again
And, Archangel too -- with this divine elixir of all earthly ailments i.e. a washproof Band–Aid -- a tourniquet? Ya, Then What?
Chorus: Celestial Hierarcy of Angels: LOL