Author has written 6 stories for Life, Family, and General.
There's really not much I can describe myself with in terms of words. None that can easily portray myself as likeable. I've always lived a life where I've tried too hard to appear nice and kind and sweet until it came to the point where I have stopped caring. I sit here, staring at myself in the mirror and I remember how I see myself. Physically, it's acceptable; however, personality and emotion-wise? Not that great. Outwardly, I come off as too interested in school, uncommonly pretty, randomly loud, quirky, a tad introverted, and smart. Yet, I'm glad that's all they see. Because I know that I'm vain, greedy, scared of aging, selfish, too self-concious, hesitant, self-doubtful, worrisome, overly sensitive, lazy, confused, and alone. I've gone over this countless times, telling myself that I'm not perfect, and yet, I still feel this all-encompassing sadness. An empty pain that constantly asks, "Why are you alive? What do you honestly want in life? Why haven't you stopped living yet?" And I quietly reply, "Who said I'm alive?"
I've taken a few seconds to breathe and to laugh bitterly. I realize that my personal introduction has taken a depressing mood and yet I feel as if I cannot hold myself back. So much has been bubbled up inside and locked away to further consume my thoughts. And I pray all who reads this forgives me. For my failure to appear sweet and kind and likeable. For my fake happiness and disgusting poems that I have written earlier. The ones about boys and crushes. They honestly mean nothing and are only a sign of shame. Last I ask for your forgiveness because I no longer feel that I can continue in a happy vein. I believe that how I finish this intro will not take a happy mood but an honest one.
Beneath this pretty and laughing exterior, I'm bone-tired. I've been deluded by stupid romance novels saying that later, once you find true love with this perfect man, you'll be so happy, you'd wish you lived forever. I know better. Love happens, but to not everybody. Most everybody is miserable. Or simply pretending that they feel happy. I've always wondered what was wrong with me exactly. I'm depressing. Pessimistic. Undriven. Morbid. Envious. Unthankful. A liar. A cheat. A sexual fiend. A slut. Hidden deep below my good girl mask that is controlled by a strict mother, I'm tainted. Given such a lucky life filled with family and success, I'm unhappy. I should be recompassing all that's given to me by earning money and showering my mother with it, yet my true passion lies with a family. All I want is to hold a child in my arms. A child I've given birth to and nursed. And that's all I'm living for. The future. Yet, I believe that even that hopeful future will not belong with me. I've had this intution that I may be infertile... I've seen the signs and all I need now is the Doctor's mouth to slowly and hauntingly say the words. With that gone, I will be left with what passion?
And with so many more secrets begging to spill from my consumed insides, I simply hold them back. They're for another time. Perhaps when I hear those words.
I live a life of resignation. What's left but to simply live a life in my sleep? What does it mean when one no longer desires to wake up for fear that the life so vibrantly lived while eyes are shut will pop and transform into what reality dubs as "dreams"? What then? Does it mean that life is no longer worth living or that one is simply living in their fantasies? Are they percieved as children? A sort of Peter Pan, perhaps?
Maybe I'm slowly slipping into an insane sense of grief or perhaps I need to grow up from my silly whines.
I would like to grow up, to no longer feel such sadness seep into my bones, to finally believe in love and happiness. But can such things be forced or beaten into?
Mother's Day of 2010,
Okay, while I finally updated after being gone for a little over two years. I am embarrassed to have wrote such a profile introduction. I wanna keep it up because it'll remind me of how... interesting I was earlier. A lot earlier. However, I hope to actually be religious in adding new poems. It seems as if more events in my life are pushing me to write. Well, enjoy the poems below (avoid the earlier ones please) and the stories and authors in my favorites are actually quite enjoyable to read, so check those out if you are in need of quality stories to read.
- drained and exhausted me
Well, wow... I never ever made a profile thing before... I feel so naive... Oh well. I know I won't aspire to be one of those fantastic authors I praise, but whatever. Up yours. I mean it in the best way. Is there a best way tho? o.O Anyway, I won't tell much about myself since.. you know, there might be creepy 58 year-old men creepily searching through profiles in order to find that one slipped up detail that will kill someone... Or whatever.
Although I don't really know much I'll give a few list things... Here I go:
-Favorite Genre in Books: uhh... I would have to go with... Romance... anytype: historical, realistic, fantasy, sci-fi... whatever I like them all
Damn gotta go!! Getting in Trouble!! Nope not good!! NOT GOOD AT ALL!! Before I leave,
Feb. 9, 2008
Wow... this has been a while since I last updated. Umm, if you've read my poems... I'm sorry about the quality. I know that they are shit... especially the content and the summaries. I want to take them down, but I'm sentimental. So, if you think they suck, then join the club. I'll probably post new ones... when I'm not lazy. But I am right now soo... I'll be back to post later. Adios for now.
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