Ha… yeah I’m ready for the cringe on this one.
I consider myself to be a decent writer. I think that I can relate to others and be able to pour my thoughts into my computer.
It wasn’t always like this.
I haven’t always been a good writer; I haven’t always been able to transfer the thoughts in my head to the screen that you are reading on now. Most of the time I can barely speak about my thoughts.
Ask anyone. 9/10, if you want a thoughtful response from me, it’s better to text or write me a letter, because I may give you some advice that I pulled out of my butt. I need time to think, need time to bring my words together.
You all get it, so I will move on.
I have had this laptop for a few years, and yes, some of those years I was in high school. I have done a lot of personal writing on this and I have done a lot of thinking on this computer. SOOO I am going to give you guys a glimpse of what was going on in my head during high school.
Enjoy this as I grit my teeth from cringing.
All of my comments today while reading will look like this
So for all that doesn’t know (which I assume is a lot of people), I continuously wrote a note to my first love for many years. It wasn’t a “feelings” type of thing (not towards the middle-end), but it was more of a comfort thing for me. A place for me to get my thoughts out at the time. I guess for some reason, I felt that this specific event was important because I wrote about it. Here’s the first passage:
April 23rd, 2015 (First of all, I don’t even know if this is the actual date of this, and if it is, I must have had a VERY good memory, or I just started typing when this happened.)
I wake up to the sound of my phone violently vibrating on my bedside table. Opening my once dormant eyes, I check the time. (The word dormant. That is all.)
“Who calls people at 3:24 A.M.?” I thought to myself. (Very bored people, Megan. It’s honestly not that uncommon for me anymore.)
I groggily answered the phone, and I heard a voice that I could not recognize at first.
“I’m bored and am driving around the neighborhood. Talk to me.”
I sighed to myself. I knew that voice very well.
“At three in the morning?!” (No tomorrow evening, YES AT THREE IN THE MORNING)
‘Why not? Just talk to me for a little while.”
I could have sworn that the boy was drunk. (Might have been who knows) Drunk on what, you may ask: I couldn’t tell you. Maybe on alcohol, more likely on teen rebellion, though. (lol. teen rebellion and angst. I die from laughter anytime someone brings it up. It’s so overdramatic and funny. Not a phase though, mom.) He and I spoke about everything from what was and what could be until around 4 in the morning, to which he bid me a farewell. (bid me a farewell. wig.) Nonetheless, I was exhausted the next day, though he was still so full of life. (Now I do remember this. I was honestly shook when I saw how normal and awake he acted the next day at school. I was dead inside lol.)
The second passage was an assignment given to me. I was told to write some advice to people about the real world (HAHAHA). Here’s a part of what I had to say:
Teenagers yearn (stop right there. YEARN? shook.) for the day that they can finally become independent. Driving wherever they want, eating whatever they want, and buying whatever they can all seem like good incentives to quickly move out of their houses and into apartments to begin their new lives. Do they really know the different hardships of being an independent adult, though? (Maybe.) Paying bills, buying groceries, doing laundry, holding a steady job, and moral responsibilities all come with this sought after title of “adult.” (Honestly? It’s not that bad. I mean I’m lazy and I’m usually able to do all of the above with having a decent social life. BUT I will say that I had to learn a lot to get to where I am now.) The real world can be a scary place, but with preparation and education, anybody can go through the trials of adulthood and come out happy. (mmhm. yes. continue, young and innocent one.)
Most teenagers, or teensng (OKAY so I have NO idea what this word was supposed to be. Teen adults? teenage adults? I literally have no idea so I’m just gonna leave this rare and TERRIBLE misspelling for you all.) adults, do not know what to expect from the world around them. Moral problems can arise and some people would not know how to react. Growing teenagers should make sure that they know their values and stick to them.(this is actually kind of true to be honest. KNOW YOUR VALUES, Y’ALL.) If they partake in a certain religion, then they should live by the word of that religion. (Okay go off.) If they have someone that they look up to and cherish, then they should stick by them and allow them to give wisdom. (Eh, sort of I guess?)
The third passage SORT OF still rings true to me today. I had to talk about one of my biggest flaws and this is what I wrote about:
When I look at people, I see so many different quirks and characteristics that they have. I see the way their eyes light up when they see a good friend, their smile when they hear a funny joke, or their hands wrap up into their significant other’s hands. I love seeing how others express themselves. There is one problem here: I don’t see people’s bad side. (Still rings true to me today. I love watching people talk about their passions and their facial expressions when they speak. I’m a little too optimistic.)
Of course by now you are wondering, “How is this not a good trait to have?” (No one is wondering this. I imagine everyone knows that this is a BAD trait to have.) Well, I have a hard time choosing the right friends. (Still have this issue to this day, it never gets easier, Megan.) I never know who genuinely wants to be my friend or use me for who knows what; the good that I see in others overpowers their bad traits. For example, if someone were to be involved in something bad, I would not look at that. I would see how they speak about their future or how they walk with confidence down hallways. (Now I’m not THIS bad anymore. I’m just emotional and dumb sometimes ha.) Being able to take the bad into my mind and make a solid decision would be a virtue for me, but instead I remain optimistic with golden eyes. (This sentence sounds like it took a week to write, but I think it took like a solid 5-10 minutes. It’s actually a decently well formed and thoughtful sentence, in my HUMBLE opinion.)
The last passage I’m gonna keep short, but it was for this story that I wrote about depression and how events in your life can change your path. Here is part of it:
Sometimes, even in dire situations, a mind can never fully comprehend what is in front of it. (Okay so stop here guys. This passage I am actually decently proud of. I wrote this straight from my heart and it’s a very abstract story overall. If anyone would like to read the whole thing, I can post a mini blog about it later.) As someone races to a place at four in the morning, where police cars hide in the shadows and houses that once held light are now dim, maybe chances are that someone is waiting.(don’t trust those people. thats creepy.) Waiting and watching, this house is like no other. This is the house where people do not bother pulling their shoes on to run because they know that what is in front of them needs to be taken.(So many missed opportunities in writing here, but go off queen.) They run because they want to. They need to. (Not going to lie, I felt this HARDCORE today. I took a walk and ended up being out for two or three hours just walking around and clearing my head.) The idea of running away is so irresistible when a heart is heavy and a head feels light.
Thanks to everyone who actually read all of this! If you would like me to make a part 2, let me know!
Also: I have been getting a LOT of support lately from people that read my blogs, telling me such sweet words. You guys are my inspiration, so thank you so much from the bottom of my heart.
Until next time,