If I were a work of art, I would be Edvard Münch's The Scream.
I express the subconscious troubles and anxieties of the world. I hold my head and let loose the primal terror of my innermost fears, surrounded by a lurid landscape which reflects my feeble grasp on reality.
what kind of crap is that?
A little sensitive? maybe. Jon understands my pain. Alvin and Chris Lum get "the world is peachy and so are you" deal, which is fine, but Jon and I get "...let loose the primal terror yada yada".
well...this is what i feel the writer of that test would score... in his/her own words taking his/her own test.
If I were a piece of art, I would be Derek Ma's The Poop.
I am the result of what happens when you can not reach a bathroom in time. I feel trapped by my reservations on the fact that i came from a persons behind. I am broken by the guilt and sorrow of never being loved, never looked at ... always shunned. the reflection of the light off my glistening mass represents my tears, as i can never look to a brighter day. all my days, i emanate the hatred to our world...
How you like THEM apples!?