Sweet 16
I didn't feel any different when I woke up this morning. In fact, that rush stopped for me on my fourteenth birthday. After that, it was just another day. I stopped feeling myself grow, you know what I mean? And if not, maybe it's just me. I was tired and couldn't get excited for anything.
The only thing reminding me of what had happened were ( Read more... )
Hi Babz, I'm ( I really do have a lot of names, so you can call me) Sasha. Apart from my school friends, you're the first to know my real name. I only put Renee up there because I like my middle name (Renne: French! *said with sleezy accent*) better,as apposed to my first (Sasha:...Russian) and my mom's paranoid about stuff like that. Stalkers and junk, but really. Who'd stalk me? Where would they go?
There's a saying, and I'm sure I'm misquoting, that bad writers have interesting personalities and great works while you can tell a great writer by their work and how dull they are in person. Dorian Grey. That tickled me. You can either take it that I really do bring color and joy to people I meet or that I'm just a really good writer to make it seem that way. In person, I'd probably never get half these things our; thoughts look better behind eyelids or on paper, but that's me.
But I luff you for reading me like that, and liking it! You must be a really cool person to introduce yourself like that. I'd do it in a rush and hope for the best, maybe giggle insandely if they answered back. *giggles insanely*--and I just came off as a bint then, didn't I? You can tell me the truth.
At least now I know I'm not just rambling to thin air and cyber bunnies.
I remember reading some of your posts whenever they pop up on my friends page and always thinking you're having a blast! At least you get out and stuff. Hehe, you've got variety in your friends in a way I don't. I can't fit them in any broad category but can't say I've really ever been close to a jock or a really die hard sculptor. Ooh, you're lucky! Sculptors and people who can play guitar!
And they're not stereotyped: they're Yours, make up your own thing to be generealized in. Wear capes or logos, but never bend to those labels when you can help it--or don't, depending. Ag, enough advice out of me.
Okay, I can't resist and then that's it. (The following only exists because I couldn't stop typing and it's one of my rules not to to backspace what I've said. I'm not even sure if it's relevent or at all worth reading anymore, but there it is.)
Honestly, you have to think your life's interesting otherwise you'll always find things about others more fascinating and--while that's all well and good for variety (mostly)--really, it's all about You. If the world followed that rule, we'd be in a different place right now. Probably a hell hole centered around a conflict between everyone's egomaniac sister's boyfried and their egomaniac dog, but still, a different place.
I prefer confidence more than arrogance, which is something I lack and make up for in my head. Maybe I'm weird and really am the only one who takes the Number One thing seriously. Ed does, but he doesn't really control the weather, we just humor him.
Thank you for remembering my birthday, I didn't get so much as a hello from my dad yesturday and it's nice again being reminded I'm not fifteen anymore. Wow. Life's going by to fast. Ever feel that way?
It was nice finally meeting you! Hope I made some sense and didn't chatter you out.
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