Brainstorms of the Soul

I started thinking about what I would write about for my slam poetry thingy at the beginning of November. And I thought I had come up with something awesome. Then I grew up.

I learned a little bit about what it means to be honest, and a little bit about who I am.

I learned that writing about me really isn't that bad because not everyone likes me in real life so not everyone will like me on here.

I learned that not all aspects of my life are depressing so I don't have to pretend like they are.

ANYWAYS. I've been trying to come up with something awesome... trying to think of something about me that I could reveal to the world, but it's proved to be harder than I thought.

I performed one of my poems today (I guess if you figure out who I am then oh well....) and it went so well that I wish I hadn't of performed it because now I can't read it at the slam. Maybe I'll read one just like it.

I don't want to read any of my blogs because if you have seen them then it'll be boring and if you haven't then sucks to suck.

So first I guess I need to come up with a topic.

Ug. I can't think of anything.

I got my heart broken on Monday. This guy was so oblivious, he was bragging about the girl he likes and this amazing date they went on, I was sitting right there and he didn't even know... It's his fault for leading me on like that. Three people have told me I deserve better, but I thought (think) he's this amazing guy who is just awesome who could be better than him and would I really deserve them?
Obviously I'm not over him yet, but it's weird because I'm just numb, until now. I've written it out and now I've let the pain in and um... ouch.

He's kind of an ass... oh well.
I'll get over him eventually... one day... possibly.

A girl in my creative writing class was there, she knew about me, and she hurt me too, but she most likely won't ever read this so oh well...

Why don't I have the balls to just post his name?
She'll tell him. Why do I care?
Because I see him everyday and every time I go to church and every time I close my eyes.

I learned today that when you get up to read something you've written, everyone who hears you takes a little piece of your soul. Sometimes they take the piece you hand them and are polite and don't take more. Sometimes they listen to your words and look at you, their eyes pierce your soul and they take a huge chunk of something you didn't want them to have. I'm not ready to have my soul ripped out and fed to any senior that wants it. Give it back.

I pretend I'm not confident so my friends don't think I am. Then I pretend to be confident so people don't think I'm self conscious, but when I look in the mirror, sometimes I see a beautiful girl, and sometimes I see some fat chick with a scowl. eh.. oh well.

I have an audience to write for and a purpose to post, and that gives me a purpose to live, maybe I like that you'll have my soul... maybe it'll make me feel important, maybe after you take all my walls down I'll be able to feel something, anything, hurt, pain, anguish, love, hope, joy. Merry Christmas.

Am I numb because I'm scared of pain, or because I'm depressed, or does my medicine make me impervious to all emotion?

I have no clue.

Well, I just wrote this today, and it took me 45 minutes, so either it sucks or is good or my entire life is a turd with no bacon, or cheese. Oh well, it's kinda a rough draft for my slam, or really a brainstorm, I want to delete it but if I give it to you now, then you'll already have part of my soul, so when I read it in front of you for real then it won't hurt as bad to have my entire soul taken from me all at once.
So there.