(no subject)
I kept meaning to do one of these memes, and now all you guys are-- so why not?
Day 01 - Introduce yourself
Day 02 - Your first love
Day 03 - Your parents
Day 04 - What you ate today
Day 05 - Your definition of love
Day 06 - Your day
Day 07 - Your best friend
Day 08 - A moment
Day 09 - Your beliefs
Day 10 - What you wore today
Day 11 - Your siblings
Day 12 - What’s in your bag
Day 13 - This week
Day 14 - What you wore today
Day 15 - Your dreams
Day 16 - Your first kiss
Day 17 - Your favorite memory
Day 18 - Your favorite birthday
Day 19 - Something you regret
Day 20 - This month
Day 21 - Another moment
Day 22 - Something that upsets you
Day 23 - Something that makes you feel better
Day 24 - Something that makes you cry
Day 25 - A first
Day 26 - Your fears
Day 27 - Your favorite place
Day 28 - Something that you miss
Day 29 - Your aspirations
Day 30 - One last moment
Hello, my name is Lyra. Can I sit with you guys? Sorry, it's just that I'm socially awkward and really you all seem socially awkward like me, so maybe we can be friends? I'll share my gluten-free cupcakes, and you can doodle in my inspiration notebooks if you like.
I'm a collection of inside jokes and thorny issues, a fractal image with so many odd little bits it's hard for me to pick one out to describe.
I guess I've always liked my name. Lee-ra. Lyra Rhys, first and middle. Each of my names are more complicated than the last, but at least I know that I stand out on attendance sheets and application lists.
I've always wanted to use a pseudonym on the Internet. Poe, I always think. I'll call myself Poe. And then I never do. Lyra seems like a pseudonym in and of itself, I think, or enough to blur the line between reality and anonymity. (I was related to the Poes. As in, Edgar Allan Poe. [We grow 'em crazy, here in New England.] My family has such interesting connections to history, I could spend all day writing them out.)
I bake a lot. I bake so I don't kill someone. Not content to be normal, like everyone else's brain, my own prefers History, Art, and Science all at once, as opposed to history + languages, or science + math, like how they're supposed to go. I find the twirling of art and science into one entity a fascinating (and obsessional, for me) idea.
I write, too, I suppose. Not nearly as often or as well as many, not enough to list it in the Hobbies sections of surveys. Though I did begin reading very early, at the age of three. It took me to this whole new world, away from whatever chaos surrounded me, and fed me the admiration of all the adults who learned about it. She's reading that book, at that age? Oh my, she must be smart.
Seventeen, going on infinity. Too old for my skin, and always have been. I cry very easily, as the sole release of any slight emotion, and have accepted that I will cry in public. A lot. It fails to embarrass me anymore. I'm going places. I just don't know where yet. Away from this extreme rural county, that's for sure. My Fortress of Solitude atop a mountain, following a dirt road off a dirt road to get up to it.
Mmmm. And, finally, it's interesting to write my full life out. I wrote it out, but it seems superfluous to post that one. I saved it in a private post, ready for the days where I describe my siblings, my parents, my first love. It reads like the plot to some Oprah List novel written by an unemployed middle-aged woman in Chicago.
Hello, my name is Lyra and I am a plot device in a novel named Life.
Day 01 - Introduce yourself
Day 02 - Your first love
Day 03 - Your parents
Day 04 - What you ate today
Day 05 - Your definition of love
Day 06 - Your day
Day 07 - Your best friend
Day 08 - A moment
Day 09 - Your beliefs
Day 10 - What you wore today
Day 11 - Your siblings
Day 12 - What’s in your bag
Day 13 - This week
Day 14 - What you wore today
Day 15 - Your dreams
Day 16 - Your first kiss
Day 17 - Your favorite memory
Day 18 - Your favorite birthday
Day 19 - Something you regret
Day 20 - This month
Day 21 - Another moment
Day 22 - Something that upsets you
Day 23 - Something that makes you feel better
Day 24 - Something that makes you cry
Day 25 - A first
Day 26 - Your fears
Day 27 - Your favorite place
Day 28 - Something that you miss
Day 29 - Your aspirations
Day 30 - One last moment
Hello, my name is Lyra. Can I sit with you guys? Sorry, it's just that I'm socially awkward and really you all seem socially awkward like me, so maybe we can be friends? I'll share my gluten-free cupcakes, and you can doodle in my inspiration notebooks if you like.
I'm a collection of inside jokes and thorny issues, a fractal image with so many odd little bits it's hard for me to pick one out to describe.
I guess I've always liked my name. Lee-ra. Lyra Rhys, first and middle. Each of my names are more complicated than the last, but at least I know that I stand out on attendance sheets and application lists.
I've always wanted to use a pseudonym on the Internet. Poe, I always think. I'll call myself Poe. And then I never do. Lyra seems like a pseudonym in and of itself, I think, or enough to blur the line between reality and anonymity. (I was related to the Poes. As in, Edgar Allan Poe. [We grow 'em crazy, here in New England.] My family has such interesting connections to history, I could spend all day writing them out.)
I bake a lot. I bake so I don't kill someone. Not content to be normal, like everyone else's brain, my own prefers History, Art, and Science all at once, as opposed to history + languages, or science + math, like how they're supposed to go. I find the twirling of art and science into one entity a fascinating (and obsessional, for me) idea.
I write, too, I suppose. Not nearly as often or as well as many, not enough to list it in the Hobbies sections of surveys. Though I did begin reading very early, at the age of three. It took me to this whole new world, away from whatever chaos surrounded me, and fed me the admiration of all the adults who learned about it. She's reading that book, at that age? Oh my, she must be smart.
Seventeen, going on infinity. Too old for my skin, and always have been. I cry very easily, as the sole release of any slight emotion, and have accepted that I will cry in public. A lot. It fails to embarrass me anymore. I'm going places. I just don't know where yet. Away from this extreme rural county, that's for sure. My Fortress of Solitude atop a mountain, following a dirt road off a dirt road to get up to it.
Mmmm. And, finally, it's interesting to write my full life out. I wrote it out, but it seems superfluous to post that one. I saved it in a private post, ready for the days where I describe my siblings, my parents, my first love. It reads like the plot to some Oprah List novel written by an unemployed middle-aged woman in Chicago.
Hello, my name is Lyra and I am a plot device in a novel named Life.