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Saturday, July 16, 2011

Faith (or redemption)

I bet I have at least--to the maximum--one reader now. Now I think about this reader, and why they continue to read this said "online diary" of some sorts and I came up with a example.

You are a preteen emotional, female. Why female? I like to use my imagination, its my choice so stop asking questions. Anyway. She just doesnt quite understand herself, stumbled upon this blog and appreciates my way of writing. Simple enough? I guess. She more sticks to me like a sticky note just because I write whats on my mind. She looks at the main title of the blog as it reads..."Life of a Dying Poet" and she thinks, oooo thats dark. See I just grabbed her attention with a cliche title. but as she reads she notices that is isnt all oh, I hate my life. Oh my parents never understand me. Oh I just want to kill myself because no one cares and im just writing because my parents wont let me see a therapist. Thats not interesting to me. I dont like to complain about my life because I understand though it may seem sucky to me, OTHERS ALWAYS HAVE IT WORSE.
     That brings me to a new thought. Here I am, with the internet. Typing on a blog with a Mac. I am medicated and I dont see a therapist by choice and I dont mind about what my parents think about me. Its my life, my choice and I will face my own consequences. Most people are like this. Is it because you have things, you feel that your life is shit? Pardon my language but very few people get on my nerves and those are the people who arent considerate and think about themselves only. When I drive down the road I can only help but think that some people dont even have a car. So many people take buses and more than not it may be with choice but there are always two sides. The other people who sit beside you on the bus have no car. They cant afford it, they have a minimum wage job and could be going through so many more things. Even more, not every city has a public bussing system. So those people who could be riding the bus are now walking. They have to get up two hours early just to they can make it to work on time, as others get up late go to work and act as if its not a big deal. Next time you look at your car, kiss it. Wash it first if you have to. It may be a P.O.S. Special Edition but at least it is something. Thank your parents, uncle or whoever gave you your form of transportation. It could even be a bike. Now I realize that I just ranted on nothing so this last paragraph, ignore it. Unless if it got you thinking and you enjoyed it. Then hold it to your heart.
     Back to Ms. Preteen. She realizes that I dont live in my own self doubt any misery and is amused by how I dont punctuate sentences properly and I capitalize the most random letters--Just to clarify everything, I know how to type I just dont want to waist time with it. AKA I need a editor.
     She understands me, no matter how young she is. She doesnt know all my problems but she doesnt even have to know. She looks at my writing and although she still knows nothing concrete about me she understands me. She does to such a point that if I ran into her on the street and we met it doesnt matter if she knows all the local gossip I had to say, or if my dog just died or even if I like dogs but the point is this. She can look at me and even though she knows nothing about me. She knows how I think and how I see things and I think that is the most important thing to know about people when you meet them. I feel knowing if the person before you takes 300 MG of Zoloft or knowing that they were beaten when they were little are secondary traits. I may be heavily medicated and I may have been abused but I may still see the world as it is, beautiful. I still have compassion. I still have fear. These are the most important things to know of someone, not what I did today. Though I dont condemn those who enjoy to hear that, I just dont find that to be what you need to know about someone.
     Ms. Preteen understands that High school/middle school life doesnt continue soon as you finish your 12 years of education and as soon as you graduate, you better hope you have realized that by then or else you find that you are 60 feet under water and you are out of breath. Through this she will gain faith in herself and thats what I would love everyone to understand. I dont expect you to be confident of everything I even loose confidence daily. But I just wish everyone to have a grip on reality and everything that is in front of them. So they can pursue their dreams and continue to dream. We all want to be happy, even me.



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