Something No One Knows….

I was given a challenge to add something that no one knows about me to my blog today. I’m trying to think of what that could be. Does it count if a dead person knew it? Or if people who I never talk to knew it? Or if it’s just in my head? A lot of what was in my head I told to random people at one point, so this will be difficult.

Something no one knows. Can it be something people I never talk to know?

Okay. Hmm.

I’ve always felt that I would be a writer one day. Not just any writer, but a best seller. And it hasn’t gone away, that feeling. It’s gotten stronger and stronger as the years go on. I can get creativity from anything. I can look at an object and spin a story around it.

The top of the teriyaki bowl on my desk- it’s a plastic rink for aliens. A petri dish. The candle? It reminds me of a really special moment with my friend Cortni P. back when I was 15 or 16.  We became blood sisters, in a manner of speaking. I can smell that basement again.

Batteries become androids, little people walking around with a battery stuck up their butt.

I get my best stories when I travel and look out the window or just let my mind roll with the tires on the road. I’ve come up with entire plots in moments, written them down, and lost them forever when everything was pulled from underneath me.

My biggest problem these days is sitting down and writing. I’m not sure why I haven’t been. I try..

Okay, that’s bullshit. I don’t really try. I’m afraid to. Part of me is afraid of critics, and afraid of failing. I’m also kind of afraid of success.

What?? How can someone be afraid of success?
I’ve never known it.

I didn’t do well in school for multiple reasons. My dad was an alcoholic (I’m pretty sure he still is, but he at least is more able to cope now), I was picked on a lot, and I didn’t like being there. Or being in Canandaigua. I didn’t feel like I was in the right place.

I grew up in a motel. The D & D Motel. And I saw some pretty nasty things in that place that scarred me deeply. I grew up feeling like I was not good enough because I was poor. That’s what I was led to believe by a lot of people I met. It was just kind of implied.

I’ve seen what success can do to people. I don’t think I would turn into an asshole- I have been through too much to let it. But how is it possible to let go of the past and imagine a better future? I can’t just forget the stuff I went through- I tried, and it didn’t work.

I need to learn how to write again. It frees something in me, it spirals outward into the world and I finally feel right. I grew up taking in everything… Now I need to start spitting it out. Not like verbal garbage.. I want to- No, I am going to share my life with others. I am going to just use this blog to chronicle who I was and who I am now. This is me, take it or leave it.

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~ by araelysia on March 30, 2013.

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