Edward Scisscorhands and We

My pretty lady friend who I think I may have now pissed off came up with
a great expression. Edward Scissorhands. The metaphor is perfect for her
for what she's feeling like at the moment and I totally get what she
means. The blades on the fingers unwittingly cut people without meaning
to. The pubic fear the werido Edward Schissorhands, the freak all
dressed in black. People fear the cuts, the jibes, the unintended
criticisms. They don't want to be hurt.

I can't remember what Edward Scisscorhands looked like underneath the
black leather outfit. He was just a little boy psychologically. He was
no monster. He was just lost in a strange world that wouldn't accept
freaks. He spend his time making wonderful creations with his hands, the
creations the people so loved but the maker and his tools were reviled
like the mad. He was just a lost human being desperately looking for the
same things everyone else wants. The same as everyone else but for the
outside veneer.

It really feels like We.