D3adD1g1t

"We're all human," Says a man. "We're all pink of the inside," Says another. Yet, and quite ironically, I'm treated differently. I'm treated as if I was beamed down from a spacecraft from a thousand light years away. I'm an alien on my own planet. Sure, I don't have the same sexuality of others, but does that make me less of a human? Instead of being pink on the inside, does that mean that I'm made up of rainbows? Perhaps I am made up of rainbows, but at least I'm happy.