When I was younger, I wrote stories. And not only did I write them, but it was also almost like I lived them. I learned how to dance so that I could write about dancing. I learned how to kiss so that I could write about kissing. Every person, or situation became a new experiment. I would talk out situations in my head, and I'd stare in the mirror almost having a fight with myself, just so that I could convey the emotion in the writing.
It may sound really bizarre now, but back then it just made sense. My family thought that they were doing me good, but it just caused me to stop. They told me I couldn't be a writer if I can't spell, or my grammar's not perfect, or the commas are in the wrong place, or if I wrote one too many run on sentences. I had so many stories started, but I couldn't continue them.
Eventually, my hard drive crashed... and my stories all went down with me. I couldn't continue any of those stories of first kisses, because I wasn't on my first kiss anymore, and explaining everything over again just didn't seem worth while.
I'm beginning to spite my mother... And that kind of scares me... I don't know if I'm spiting her... or if I'm spiting anyone who tries to get inside. You see recently, I was hurt so bad that my heart physically doesn't feel like it can take anymore. I want someone to sit down with, someone who won't tell me I'm crazy... but every time I sit down in person and try to talk about it-- I can't talk through the wave of tears-- and then I just look crazy.
I know that the name for the "...: is an ellipsis but what's the name to the "--". I don't know. I don't know that I've ever learned it... This writing is turning into me thinking in circles. The truth is whenever I see someone else writing, I want to write, and I started writing because the girl on the television had a writing problem and now I feel like I have a writing problem because I can't stop speaking...
I don't know that this made any sense.
