Dry Needling For Wrinkles

Derma roller benefits

About the author: Andy Rebeca is passionate about skin care and a freelance journalist. Currently working with Cheshire Cosmetic Ltd which is known as cosmetic clinic Cheshire. Cheshire Cosmetic is specialized for derma rollers Cheshire and botox Cheshire. Now they are conducting cosmetic training for botox and dermal fillers in Cheshire Cosmetic Academy

Source: http://www.articlesbase.com/anti-aging-articles/derma-roller-benefits-4076427.html

Frequently Asked Questions

1. QUESTION:
   Tell me what you think of...?
   Stigma
   Part I
   By: Taylor Packer

   The air was still in the forest that night. Nothing seemed to stir in the woods. No bugs sang their songs to each other. There were no animals in sight. The woodland was caked in a thick silver mist. The air was damp and heavy with humidity. A cold howl rang through the quiet void.

   Something was lurking in the silhouetted trees. Something stepped on dried pine needles and twigs. The howl that had been emitted was growl that came from deep in its throat, as though it was gargling blood. The creature was nearly the size of a grizzly bear. Its jet black fur had an appearance of sharp needles rising from its back. The mane of the monster was nothing like a lions but rather of a wolf’s.

   It pulled its lips back to reveal a large jaw with razorblade fangs. They were more menacing than its great claws. It shifted its weight with each haunting step. Unlike most creatures who would see in many hues of color, this beast saw only one. Its view was as crimson as the blood it lusted for. Its breath had a steady rhythm.

   That was when it saw its target. The quarry was at the edge of the clearing. The beast heartbeat picked up speed as its pace quickened. Its mind began racing. It couldn’t wait to sink its fangs into the juicy meat.

   It began running towards its prey, picking up greater speed with each bounding step. It would soon have its prize. It let out a growl of hunger as its maw opened wide. Its steps turned to leaps. It had its victim. He turned just it time to see the great jaws of the beast close around him. There was a spray of blood and sickening crunching sound.
   It was over.

   ---

   A red-orange glow coiled around the burning logs, making cracking noises as the heat split the wood into neat lines. A young man in his late twenties sat in the large library at a wooden desk placed near the hearth. He was studying a compendium of many newspaper clippings and listening to various digital recordings of radio news reports. All of these events he listened to and read about were starting to happen in the United States and news of it was spreading like wild fire.

   Tatsuki Ohaira ran a hand through his short black hair. His brown slanted eyes examined all the information on the table before him. He needed the information so he could find his sister.

   Michelle was his half sister. His American mother gave birth to her before she met his Japanese father and gave birth to him. Later, Tatsuki moved back to Tokyo and got a job as a martial arts instructor. He came back to America when he got the news that Michelle; his only remaining family member had mysteriously vanished without a trace. Michelle had become a reporter and after being assigned to investigate the recent attacks she went missing. Many of the people who went to the forests of northern Arizona and were reported missing, were usually found later, or at least what was left of them.

   Tatsuki shut out that thought. He knew Michelle was a strong woman and was probably just lost. But lost for two weeks? He tried to stay positive but the little shoulder devil kept telling him to forget it. She was gone and there was nothing he could do about it.

   Tatsuki could not accept that. He had to keep looking for some kind of clue, something that would lead him to her. He would find her, dead or alive. He could not throw away all that she had given him on the assumption she was dead. He just wanted his sister back.

   There was creaking sound behind him that made him jump. In walked a tall thin man with gray hair and a wrinkled face. His attire was the same as always; a black tuxedo with matching pants, shoes, and bow tie. He came in with a silver platter that held a large vial of red liquid and a wine glass. Tatsuki didn’t drink wine but he enjoyed drinking from that kind of cup.

   “Would you like some cranberry juice, sir?” The butler spoke gently as if it lessened his chances of disturbing his master’s work.

   “Yes, please.” Tatsuki said. The butler began pouring the drink as Tatsuki returned to his studying. Tatsuki was one to get easily distracted, and when he heard the liquid slowly filling the cup he couldn’t help but focus on the drink rather then his current predicament. The small escape was momentarily relaxing.

   “How is your search coming along, sir?” The butler inquired as he carefully handed Tatsuki the glass.

   Tatsuki took a sip of juice before answering. “It could be better. I contacted the news agency and they said they have no idea where she could be. I keep reading these articles and listening to the radio to see if I can figure out what is doing this, but it is unlike anything I have ever heard of.” He took another sip.

   “If I may, sir,” the butler said. “It sounds to me like we are dealing with a new species.”

   “Don’t be ridiculous Max.” Tatsuki said. “This isn’t Bigfoot we’re talking about; this is a bear of some kind.”

   “It is a bear that looks like a dog?” Max asked sitting in a wooden
   EVERYONE!!! TIS IMPORTANT!!!

   The name of the other is not Taylor Packer it is Tyler Parker!

   Sorry Tyler!
   *author... not other...

   • ANSWER:
     TL;DR

2. QUESTION:
   15 Years Old - Lots of Wrinkles? HELP!?
   ( I asked this question the other day, but received not good answers )

   I'm a 15 year old girl and I have lots of wrinkles and lines under my eyes. When I smile they become deeper, darker, and crows feet appear on the corners of my eyes. I moisturize everyday with Baby Lotion (I have very dry skin), I get 9-10 hours of sleep every night, I drink 1-2 bottles of water every day, and I eat lots of fruits and vegetables. I consider myself to be quite health as I exercise for 3-4 hours everyday as well. Is there anything I can do with home remedies? I know my mother wouldn't let me buy anything because she claims they're my imagination. They aren't! They're so drastic that I can lay thin objects (such as sewing needles) in between the folds and it stays in place (not through my skin, just laying on the folds)! I've also tried Preparation H, but it doesn't seem to be working (I was using the US Version).

   Also, here is a picture (I am the girl on the right. I envy my friend's wrinkless eyes!): http://i56.tinypic.com/2rcs6s2.jpg

   PLEASE HELP.
   What's with all the comments about tanning? I would never go to a tanning bed! Those things are so unhealthy! I'm naturally that tan.

   • ANSWER:
     Use sunscreen, even in Winter lots of UV rays. You need lotion with UVB and UVA protection.

     Stay well hydrated and use coconut oil as a over night moisturizer and eat coconut oil instead of other cooking oils, it will naturally keep your skin moisturized. It is also good for your hair to. Drink green tea daily,not the cheap stuff at the store, real green tea is green, buy Ta-Fu Green Tea online if you can't find anywhere. Give up sugar, white bread, high sodium and smoking, these all contribute to poor health.

3. QUESTION:
   I just got a tattoo on my leg and the shading is dry and cracked 3days later. ?
   The outline of my tattoo is black and it healed just fine. I then got the shading a couple of weeks later. It looked great and dark but 2 days later the black shading has dried up and raised. It had some fluid inside that I pressed out of which is clear and a little bit of the black ink. By doing so the shaded skin now seems to be wrinkled and unattached to the tissue beneath. I washed the area to prevent infections but in turn making the skin soaked like a piece of wet paper.
   I went back to the artist and asked about every thing. He used sumi black ink and the needle he used was 15 needle flat shader. I asked him if maybe it was applied too deep but he said it was just the thickness of a dime of which other tattoo artists use for a standard in shading. He told me I didn't take care of it properly.
   What went wrong? Was the shading over worked? As far as aftercare I went home and kept the paper towel cover on then i replaced it with cling wrap to keep it from rubbing on my pants. There weren't any signs of infections. I did feel my tattoo stretch when I kneeled down so I checked it and took the wrap off 2 hours later. It was soaked from my sweat so I quickly patted it dry. So then i washed it the next day when I took a shower. On the third day is when it looked bad but not infected.
   Did I do the right thing for the after care or was it over worked being the reason for the shading getting damaged and soft chunks of it falling off? Could he had punctured it too much, is there such a thing? Is my tattoo ruined and doomed to scaring? Please help me solve my problem I need a second opinion.

   • ANSWER:
     First off, cling wrap is not a good idea. Your tattoo needs to breathe, and can't if there's a plastic barrier around it.

     Sounds like it's still in the healing process. Honestly, clean it and keep using what ever ointment your artist suggested, then switch to unscented lotion.

     Because it's still healing, it's hard to tell if there's a problem yet. If it's not hot and doesn't seem infected you should be fine. When it's totally healed you can go back to your artist and ask for a touch up to see if that will help.

     Only time will tell. Good luck.

4. QUESTION:
   FEEDBACK NEEDED FOR CHAPTER 1 OF STORY!!!! AND A TITLE PLEASE!!?
   hi so ya i wrote this awhile ago. its like chapter one so its not an entire story. i need feedback/advice/title please!!!! ill admit, its not the best thing Ive ever written, buts its also not the worst....so ya here it is:

   I hated my new house. I hated my new neighborhood. I hated my new life. And I especially HATED Florida, its too hot, and dry, and stupid. Stupid state… no offense…
   Anyways, I had escaped the confines of my new “house”, and the clutches of my idiotic, hairbrained mother (Oh she has something in common with the state!! They should get along swimmingly!!) by going for a quick stroll through my new neighborhood. Whoa, that was a difficult thing to say-or type in this case- new neighborhood. New people, new people, new mysteries….
   It was unbearably hot outside (note to self: add Heat and summer to the hate list) even in shorts and a t shirt I was still drenched in sweat! How do these old people (oh Im sorry ‘elderly’ people, or if you prefer ‘people of age’, which ever one floats your boat) handle it?? Maybe it’s the wrinkles!! Stupid Florida heat summer crap, why cant it just go away???
   Oh ya, back to the walk. Because of a deadly combination of horrendous heat, stupidity, and a “Hay! That’s a good idea” , I decided to take a slight detour off of the grey sidewalk, and onto what appeared to be a well traveled path. Surprisingly, it was dramatically cooler inside the forest than outside on the sidewalk. It seemed so strange, it must be the canopy…
   After a couple of minutes of listening to twigs and leaves crack under my feet, I stopped under a large oak tree to examine my new environment. It was then that I relieved that I was being followed.
   As I sat within the oaks shade, I heard movement. The rustling of bushes and that stuff, the usual. I stood up alert, like a Meerkat (are Meerkats even cats?? I must add that to the ‘look up on google but not yahoo, it doesn’t deserve the honor of being on my computer screen’list), scanning the bushes for any sign of danger.
   About then is when the man emerged.
   He was tall maybe 6 ft, husky, and with reddish hair. He wore a muscle shirt and jeans, which made him look slightly like a big bad tough biker. Which he would have pulled off, except for his little happy gingerbread man tattoo on his forearm. He walked toward me. The thought of running did come to mind, but it was accompanied by his friend “ I was here first! Get your own cool down shade spot!!!” Which of course I didn’t want to say, simply because he looked like he could crush me into a bloody pulp, which would completely ruin my afternoon.
   “You need to get out of this place, it isn’t safe,” He said, his voice was deep and all that junk, “Come with me if you want to live!”
   A terminator line, nice…… not really…..
   “ Umm two things. I am not coming with you! And two, who are you?”
   “You must leave this realm! If he catches you here-”
   “If who catches me here?” This was getting sorta weird….
   “ The Humonid!! He will find you and steal your magic essence with his tongue!! Follow me and I will protect you!”
   “ For one that is extremely gross. And two: I don’t know who you are or what nut house you escaped from, but Im going to head back to my house, and call the nice people in white suites with the big needles to come and pick you up. Ok, sound like a plan?” I began to leave the area, abandoning my self claimed tree, in the direction of my home, where I planned never to speak off this nutjob.
   “Don’t leave without me! I must protect you,” he yelled to me, trying to run back to me, “The Humonid will devour your essence!!”
   “ Umm thanks for the help, but I think I will take my chances with the hemroid”
   “The Humonid!! Let me at least walk you to the line!”
   “ No thanks Im good! Just go back to your Nut Hut!”
   I didn’t look back, but the silence behind me told me that he had given up all hope of ‘protecting’ me. Pedophile.
   Anyways, I continued my walk back to the sidewalk. I was almost there when I heard a crack behind me.
   “ Okay dude, Im serious, you don’t need to follow me! Im a white belt and Im not afraid to go all Asian fighting style thingy on you!” By this time I had turned fully around to face something that wasn’t the biker guy.
   In front of me was a leopard tiger zebra hippo mix. The head of a lion, the body of a leopard, completely covered with black and white zebra strips, and the, how do I put this, rump of a hippo. It was some strange African freak of nature.
   “Oh hello there, you must be this hemroid that I’ve been hearing so much about!” I have no idea why I had said that. I mean I wasn’t scared or anything, I was just a little shocked.
   “ I am Humonid, hunter of the magical! I have come for you essence!” he roared.
   “Oh how lovely! You talk! Well then, I must inform you that Ive given my magical whossamawhat to some other African animal. Im sorry, but your to late.”
   “Don’t toy with me, boy! I can smell your essence! It is strong, which must be w

   • ANSWER:
     Don't quit your day job. Similar to other stories I've read in the past.

5. QUESTION:
   TATTOO HELP, PIMPLES/WHITEHEADS, sorry for the long story, I just want to give EVERY DETAIL.?
   Hey it is now a month and one day since I have gotten my tattoo, it is a four letter solid black tattoo on my inner forearm and it is decently large. I have already posted a comment on here stating that I was worried about an infection and it turned out that it was NOT infected, I had it checked by a dermatologist, my family doctor, and a professional tattoo artist. I received the tattoo from a friend (yes I know this was dumb, but too late now) he's training to become a tattoo artist and he's aiming to get his license. He used clean equipment and used a clean needle (opened in front of me). Now that it has been 1 month and 1 day since I have gotten the tattoo, it seemed like I have gotten 1 very small pimple which was raised slightly around the first letter on the edge of the outline (where there was alot of work done to fill in the letter) and it formed a whitehead while I was in a hot shower (like all pimples do). It went down and it stayed having a dry head on it (like all pimples) and now it's looking better, I also formed a very very small lump near the previous pimple which is very slightly painful but only when touched, and in a hot shower it formed a white head, my mother said to leave it alone it's only a pimple and it'll get better, I also went to the doctor yesterday because I recently wasn't feeling good and it came back that I have strep throat which she gave me Amoxicillin for, and while I was there I showed her my tattoo, (she was the doctor I showed my tattoo to when I thought it was infected). She looked at the tattoo and said "that is either a pimple or it's still healing, the tattoo may not be FULLY healed even though it's a month, give it a little more time and STOP WORRYING!" she always laughs at me because I worry sooo much, the doctor gave me mupirocin topical cream for irritation to put on the tattoo when I went there the first time and it helped, so she said to just put the cream on the pimple like spots. My mother said to listen and stop worrying, I drive everyone crazy because when I get the smallest pimple I think it's infected, when I sleep and the blanket wrinkles and presses on my arm and leaves an indented red mark I think i have blood poisoning or MRSA than when the red mark fades I laugh at myself, and even when my throat culture came back that I have strep throat I thought it was from the tattoo which my mother almost smacked me for (after laughing at me) I have been a hypochondriac and I need to calm down. Everyone tells me pimples on a tattoo are completely normal and to just leave them the hell alone and it'll be fine, the tattoo is NOT red, NOT swollen, it does NOT hurt (unless you start touching and poking at the pimple), it is NOT hot to the touch or anything, it is NOT pussing or oozing. I read on here that allergic reaction to tattoo ink can occur, my tattoo is ALL black, but there is no other sign of any allergic reaction, just pimples, and the ink he used (like I stated in my previous post asking about infection) is stated online that it is one of the best inks that can be used, it's black "kuro sumi" tattoo ink. The whole tattoo looks fine except for the couple of pimples. so please somebody let me know their views, because I'm only gonna stress myself out about everything (like always) until somebody talks sense into me, and I already have strep throat, I don't need to be stressed on top of it, and I also have acid reflux which I take nexium for and you shouldn't be stressed because that bothers the acid reflux, so please anybody help. Thanks for everything!

   • ANSWER:
     It's gonna be fine, especially since you've taken antibiotics. Don't stress, easy does it. That Sumi ink is good stuff. Don't use much lotion on it, if any at all. It'll heal faster if it gets plenty of air. Take care.

6. QUESTION:
   If anyone has 3 minutes to spare to give me feedback on this short story, please check it out?
   My prince sits cowering, hands over his pointed ears, knees drawn up to his chest. All around him raindrops beat the earth like a drum, sending dirt pluming skyward. The motes of dust threaten to choke my faerie, and he shivers beneath a mushroom cap, teeth clenched as explosions in the sky meet with streaks of lightning. Minutes pass but to the prince time slows to a near standstill. The booms grow distant as rain falls with less ferocity. My faerie gathers courage and opens his eyes, jaw aching as he becomes aware of how taut he'd held is muscles. Looking up, he sees the horizon growing lighter, the heavy purple receding, and he thinks, surely I have passed the night here. My prince wrinkles his nose in distaste as he looks around at the aftermath of mud and floating debris. The water rises higher and pushes against his thighs as the packed ground loses the battle to absorb much needed moisture. Frantic now and muttering a string of high pitched curses, my princes casts around for anything to hold on to. His tiny hands brush against a birch leaf and he climbs into its center, his weight forcing the edges of the leaf to stretch upwards, sealing off the outside world. Taking off his sodden tunic, my prince reclines in his floating haven, hands supporting his tired head. The rocking motion makes my little faerie quite sleepy and he drifts for a time, unaware of his destination. Slowly the water recedes, leaving my prince afloat on his vessel, beneath a canopy of forest. Droplets of water make their way along the veins of overhead leaves, pooling together until their weight becomes too great to bear. The complete silence is broken only by the sounds of dripping vegetation and tiny snores. One such droplet sails through the air, catching my sleeping prince square in the face, shocking him from his dreaming. My faerie sits up, alarm setting his nerves afire as he fails to realize where he is in this world of green. Standing now, my faerie loses his footing, tumbling into the clear pool of rainwater. Fully awake, he opens his eyes, taking in the shimmering greens and blues. His eyes begin to sting, but he keeps them open, curiosity outweighing discomfort. His gaze falls upon a tiny piece if light. Metal perhaps. Kicking towards it, he manages to grab it before the lack of air forces him to the surface. He clambers onto dry ground, examining his trophy. Delighted, he jumps up and down. Why, it was a sword! Feeling the edge of the needle and finding it smooth puzzles him and he reconsiders his object. Well, whatever it was, it was shiny, pretty and a glorious plaything. Starting to walk east, my prince barely contains his wonder. Each blade of grass is crowned with a bead of water. Rainbows seem to mock him as they flash and disappear when he tries to focus on one in particular. The sky slowly grows dark, my prince was mistaken, banishing the prisms but welcoming the stars. My prince stumbles about, creating wonderful stories for each of the night lights, stories he'd one day whisper into the ear of a child. Craning his neck, the stars wink and merge together into a heavenly blanket as finally all the clouds are carried away.
   aw thank you so much. That comment meant a lot to me. I'm 16 and trying to figure out if english is something I should pursue. Thanks so much for reading it.
   haha, well, I wasn't aiming for a plot. There basically wasn't a plot, I just wanted to let people picture in their heads what was taking place, and the more descriptive words I used, the clearer the image. Although I understand that sometimes that can be overdone. I like what I wrote though, and wouldn't want to cut out any of it.

   • ANSWER:
     Its amazing! Please ignore any negative comments. Of course if it was to be published it may be edited somewhat, as does any text, but it is a brilliant piece of descriptive, creative writing. You clearly have a talent that is worth developing and persuing.
     I love you, you are awesome lol
     I read all of your questions, you remind me of me when I was younger (im 25 now lol).
     I ALWAYS wanted to be a writer and an artist when I was younger... my family of course tried to discourage this and tried to encourage a 'normal' 9-5 job. But I never listened, I just persued my dream, in spite of their criticism, in spite of being bullied relentlessly at school for being a little quirky. Now... Im a writer and artist and I run art classes for children- inspiring the next generation I hope
     Sooo... ny message to you- follow your dreams, ALWAYS be youself, and no matter what problems may be in your life right now- be strong and your dreams will come too and any problems will fade away.
     Good luck with your writing!!
     Love and best wishes, Holly xxx

7. QUESTION:
   Please critique my writing (be as harsh as you want). Thank you.?
   For quite some time, the young blonde woman named Sorcha Callaghan gazed down the dusty road. Her eyes lingered, confused, at the point where the road suddenly ended. It simply dropped off in a muddy stream of dust and dirt. Where it fell or why it ceased so abruptly she had not the slightest idea. Intrigued, she bent forward and tumbled to her hands and knees. A filthy dry smell surrounded her, choking up her nostrils and sliding down her throat like a pestilence. She coughed and buried her face in the satin fabric of her gown sleeve. Once the worst of it had disappeared and the dust had settled, she crawled on all fours until she reached the very lip of the road.

   There was not a sound except the rustling of her skirts. No birds lived here. No cottages lined the road. No cats prowled the shadows. Her heartbeat thudded soundlessly. Dumbfounded, Sorcha tilted her head back to stare into a sky pale and lifeless. It was washed out, like sour milk. Not a single cloud drifted across that sky. It seemed so utterly lonely and desolate a sky. All of a sudden, she had the strongest inclination to add something to such a bleak, barren canvas.

   Slowly, Sorcha reached up and loosened the magenta ribbons bound about her arms. They slipped off and landed in the dust, like a heap of wrinkled rose petals. Balling them tightly into her fist, she stood and peered over the edge. Frowning, she tossed the ribbons into the pearly, blank sky and watched them twist and writhe. The rosy pink looked unreal and fake against such a setting. Then they were gone, coiling downward. She’d never see them again.

   “Adieu!” she said, blowing a kiss to the nothingness.

   Then Sorcha’s mind ran with a thousand thoughts, a thousand ideas and fantasies. Deep in her bosom grew the bizarre urge to do something reckless. She would jump. It was too obvious, though.
   The air was heavy and silent, full of a windless and raging storm. It made no sense at all to her. How could it be stormy in such a soothing place?

   Her unspoken question was answered when, miraculously, it began to rain. Drops like needles shot from the heavens in a lazy torrent. Unbeknownst to her, clouds had been secretly collecting.
   “Secrets never solve anything,” she said. “Neither does sitting doing nothing.”

   As the rain bathed her in its heartening shower, she tipped her face upward and opened her mouth to catch the droplets. They tasted sweet, like summer flowers might.

   Something strange was happening to the road. Mud churned and swirled. Her lace-edged petticoat seeped up the muddy liquid and grew quite stained as well as ponderous. The little stream tumbling off the precipice swelled to the size of a roaring waterfall.

   “Oh dear!” she cried, feeling her feet lift off the ground. As she flailed her arms and tried to grab at things that weren’t there, she slid to a sitting position, landing with a splash in the eddying mire. Her gown ballooned around her. Muddy water soaked her legs and waist.

   The next second, the soggy earth collapsed and she was dunked into the whirlpool. Sorcha gulped down a huge mouthful of foul-tasting liquid before her whole body was plunged under. She squeezed her eyes shut and desperately beat the water with her legs. It did no good. She was sinking like a rock. Her voluminous velvet gown soaked up the water like a mop.

   She couldn’t breathe. Spluttering and choking underwater, she suffocated slowly. Succumbing to the battering-ram-pull of the current, she let herself fall as limp as a rag doll.

   Smack.

   Jarring pain tore through Sorcha’s back and neck. Her head felt severed from her body. She was surely in two different parts. And they would float away…her head to the pale skies and her body to Hell’s watery trench. But no, Hell was inferno and scorching heat….

   Her thoughts became muddled. They drifted, broken like a shattered tea set and demented like shadows at dusk. On the brink of lunacy—or perhaps death—she shut her eyes and glided into a very deep slumber.

   • ANSWER:
     I like your writing a lot.I like the word usage and how descriptive it is. It almost makes you feel like you're there, like you are Sorcha, or watching her from a bird's eye view.
     Good job!

8. QUESTION:
   Women: How come no one else actually love what God gave you?
   Okay, I am a Catholic and I love everything about what God gave me no matter how insecure I get all the time. I have dyed my hair before but that was 6 years ago.....and my hair has basically been natural for that long too and I love the feeling of natural hair color because it does not feel thin or dry.....I have natural eyebrows that some had said look like I actually pluck it (it has some gradient to it.....from moderately thick-to lightly thin...).......I am not hairy so I don't shave my eyebrows.....I am only 21 so I don't use any anti-aging product...I would of course but NO to plastic surgery where there's needle involved.....

   PS: I do shave my arm-you-know-what...but that's all....

   My question is, why do a lot of women/girls dislike their body when they're supposed to love it since God knows what's good for them...or what is beautiful for them...look at Cindy Crawford w/ her mole....w/o it, she'd look less prettier....but since she has it, she looks phenomenal.......

   Beauty is in the eye of the beholder right? so why the need of breast augmentation, lip plumping and wrinkle lifter? seriously?.....love God, love nature people...

   no mean answers please....

   • ANSWER:
     Thats the difference between you and me.I don't believe in religions (allthough I believe there is a God,but not for how we created but for the unexplained faith phenomenons)

     Its not about disliking our bodies, or what we have.Its a matter of taste.

     Just like you chose the clothes you are going to wear, or the nail polish you are going to use, the same think is the hair dying, or the eyebrows.

     You logic is loosing in some points.

     You said no antiage products,right?

     So do you go to denist?If you lose on tooth,are you going to replace it ?

     I agree with you that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.But do you feel that you are more beautiful as you look noe,natural, or you are staying natural because of religion matter.

     If its the 1st, then yu do right, if its the second....

9. QUESTION:
   What is your opinion of this paragraph?
   let me know what you think of this part i wrote, thanks
   ---
   Ellen and her best friend Page sat comfortably inside of a dark blue sedan. Ellen's first time behind the wheel without her father was rather exciting for her.
   "Page, now that we've got the keys all to ourselves, why don't we have some fun?"
   Page was shy and reserved, the exact opposite of wild and crazy Ellen.
   "Let's drive around the block," Page suggested cautiously. Ellen wrinkled her forehead drawing a perplexed look with her bright blue eyes.
   "Let's drive around the town," she replied sarcastically, running her fingers across the shift gear, "it won't take us that long Page, I'll drive fast if you want to be back quick!"
   "No no no, your dad would kill you if he found out you took his car without permission," Page warned subtly.
   Ellen turned on the ignition, almost ignoring Page's sage remarks and quickly backed out of the garage and into the driveway, "you better buckle up because I feel like speed racer today," she said.
   It was a nearly perfect day for a drive. The road was dry and the birds were loud.
   "Do you hear those birds chirping at us?" Ellen turned to Page as she shifted into drive.
   "Yeah, why?"
   "They're saying, ready set go, ready set go, in their own little language to us."
   "No they're not."
   The tires on the car spun rapidly as Ellen pressed on the accelerator making the needles on the dashboard jump repeatedly.
   --

   • ANSWER:
     i really like this... great vivid details. i could easily picture this in my mind. Maybe try to make it a little more suspenseful like build up whether or not ellen is actually gonna do it.
     Youre a great writer

10. QUESTION:
    FEEDBACK NEEDED FOR CHAPTER 1 OF STORY!!!! AND A TITLE PLEASE!!?
    hi so ya i wrote this awhile ago. its like chapter one so its not an entire story. i need feedback/advice/title please!!!! ill admit, its not the best thing Ive ever written, buts its also not the worst....so ya here it is:

    I hated my new house. I hated my new neighborhood. I hated my new life. And I especially HATED Florida, its too hot, and dry, and stupid. Stupid state… no offense…
    Anyways, I had escaped the confines of my new “house”, and the clutches of my idiotic, hairbrained mother (Oh she has something in common with the state!! They should get along swimmingly!!) by going for a quick stroll through my new neighborhood. Whoa, that was a difficult thing to say-or type in this case- new neighborhood. New people, new people, new mysteries….
    It was unbearably hot outside (note to self: add Heat and summer to the hate list) even in shorts and a t shirt I was still drenched in sweat! How do these old people (oh Im sorry ‘elderly’ people, or if you prefer ‘people of age’, which ever one floats your boat) handle it?? Maybe it’s the wrinkles!! Stupid Florida heat summer crap, why cant it just go away???
    Oh ya, back to the walk. Because of a deadly combination of horrendous heat, stupidity, and a “Hay! That’s a good idea” , I decided to take a slight detour off of the grey sidewalk, and onto what appeared to be a well traveled path. Surprisingly, it was dramatically cooler inside the forest than outside on the sidewalk. It seemed so strange, it must be the canopy…
    After a couple of minutes of listening to twigs and leaves crack under my feet, I stopped under a large oak tree to examine my new environment. It was then that I relieved that I was being followed.
    As I sat within the oaks shade, I heard movement. The rustling of bushes and that stuff, the usual. I stood up alert, like a Meerkat (are Meerkats even cats?? I must add that to the ‘look up on google but not yahoo, it doesn’t deserve the honor of being on my computer screen’list), scanning the bushes for any sign of danger.
    About then is when the man emerged.
    He was tall maybe 6 ft, husky, and with reddish hair. He wore a muscle shirt and jeans, which made him look slightly like a big bad tough biker. Which he would have pulled off, except for his little happy gingerbread man tattoo on his forearm. He walked toward me. The thought of running did come to mind, but it was accompanied by his friend “ I was here first! Get your own cool down shade spot!!!” Which of course I didn’t want to say, simply because he looked like he could crush me into a bloody pulp, which would completely ruin my afternoon.
    “You need to get out of this place, it isn’t safe,” He said, his voice was deep and all that junk, “Come with me if you want to live!”
    A terminator line, nice…… not really…..
    “ Umm two things. I am not coming with you! And two, who are you?”
    “You must leave this realm! If he catches you here-”
    “If who catches me here?” This was getting sorta weird….
    “ The Humonid!! He will find you and steal your magic essence with his tongue!! Follow me and I will protect you!”
    “ For one that is extremely gross. And two: I don’t know who you are or what nut house you escaped from, but Im going to head back to my house, and call the nice people in white suites with the big needles to come and pick you up. Ok, sound like a plan?” I began to leave the area, abandoning my self claimed tree, in the direction of my home, where I planned never to speak off this nutjob.
    “Don’t leave without me! I must protect you,” he yelled to me, trying to run back to me, “The Humonid will devour your essence!!”
    “ Umm thanks for the help, but I think I will take my chances with the hemroid”
    “The Humonid!! Let me at least walk you to the line!”
    “ No thanks Im good! Just go back to your Nut Hut!”
    I didn’t look back, but the silence behind me told me that he had given up all hope of ‘protecting’ me. Pedophile.
    Anyways, I continued my walk back to the sidewalk. I was almost there when I heard a crack behind me.
    “ Okay dude, Im serious, you don’t need to follow me! Im a white belt and Im not afraid to go all Asian fighting style thingy on you!” By this time I had turned fully around to face something that wasn’t the biker guy.
    In front of me was a leopard tiger zebra hippo mix. The head of a lion, the body of a leopard, completely covered with black and white zebra strips, and the, how do I put this, rump of a hippo. It was some strange African freak of nature.
    “Oh hello there, you must be this hemroid that I’ve been hearing so much about!” I have no idea why I had said that. I mean I wasn’t scared or anything, I was just a little shocked.
    “ I am Humonid, hunter of the magical! I have come for you essence!” he roared.
    “Oh how lovely! You talk! Well then, I must inform you that Ive given my magical whossamawhat to some other African animal. Im sorry, but your to late.”
    “Don’t toy with me, boy! I can smell your essence! It is strong, which must be w
    o it didnt all go through...so this is like part of chapter 1 its almost to the end though
    thank you for the feedback. last time i posted something, not on here but on another website, and people told me to use less details....ill try to rewrite the chapter with my normal detail amount

    • ANSWER:
      The formatting is somewhat poorly done, as well as the writing. I'm sorry, just trying to be honest.
      The idea is nice, I suppose, but you should stay on topic more. If you're trying to portray that the main character has ADD of some sort, make sure that's implied more clearly.
      I honestly think you should start over with this chapter. It's overall confusing and not entirely interesting. I lost interest quickly. Try writing with more detail, and instead of putting the main character's thoughts in parenthesis, find a different way to format them.

      Sorry this was harsh, I'm just trying to be honest.

      Also, if you want help, email tori.fontenot@yahoo.com. I'll give you a few tips or feedback if you want.