Good evening,
After a week long of looking at unusual pictures that I searched so fervently for on Google Images, and after a week long of wanting to share these images so fervently with my friends, I finally decided I would create a blog.
This is not in the least a blog where I'll just share stuff that I found just so happened to look pretty, but I'll also post ramblings any time they come to mind. I'll post cartoons I have drawn when I feel like I'm energetic enough to go downstairs and operate my mom's scanner under her nose. I'll post jokes, musical ideas, music, paintings, photos of myself (maybe, as apparently any girl gets unusual attention on the internet,) favorite foods of the day, poems and I suppose anything that floods out from my mind's center.
Why, you may ask? I am an odd girl. My mind works in an unusual fashion, often inhibited from expressing its true trains of thought only because I have difficulty using eloquence with my speaking. I speak without intention of making people laugh and I make them laugh; I speak with intention of making people laugh and they misinterpret my sense of humor as a reason for them to feel bad for me...(from this I have discovered that sarcasm, perhaps, is not an art I use very well.) I hide behind curtains of goofiness only because I actually am trying to talk seriously but cannot...I also hide behind goofiness because to be serious is to make a situation dead or awkwardly silent in humor.
Now, I'm not blaming anybody for misinterpreting me. Dadgummit, I'm just plain weird. I feel I have a brain made up of the fragments from several others' brains; if you looked at an MRI of it, it would be a fractured collage, not a beautiful display of active and inactive areas. (I'm speaking figuratively, if "figuratively" is the appropriate word to use.) People may go on strutting the fact that a lot of folks are like that: awkward in social situations. But I am not necessarily. Sometimes I mean to be the way I am, more often than not, because I'm just...me.
I won't say I'm unique or a different kind of flower or anything of that sort. For all I know, I might be a "normal" kid that is forced to interact with only a few "abnormal" kids. I try not to judge books by their covers, particularly my own cover, because there is still so much to discover about you and me. I feel like my mind, instead of being a vessel into which knowledge is steadily pouring, is more like a maze with doors to open, doors that can only be unlocked with the keys my mentors in life give me. In discovering others I'm discovering myself. I suppose that is why I wanted to call this blog an imagination emporium...aside from the wonderful ring these words have to me, this emporium, which is my mind, is constantly exchanging stock in an attempt to stimulate its meek but growing economy.
In this case, then, I suppose you can also call my writing this blog a story of self-discovery. I type away on this post knowing full well that probably only 3 or less people will read/comment on it. I kind of just want to talk about myself, honestly. This way I'll end up knowing more about myself. Sounds good, eh?
For example, I discovered by writing this post that close to and after midnight, my usage of vocabulary becomes quite a bit more complex than I would intend to write in any other sort of situation outside of school. Please don't expect my future writing to be this eloquent, if this post is at all...it might be my fatigue that tells me I'm being too complicated for my tired mind.
I really don't know.
If you guys would like to show me your own journeys into thought, as done by blog, feel free to comment and let me know. I'd be thrilled to look at all of your own "imagination emporiums." We all have inventories in our minds unlike anyone else's, and it's due time we had an exchange.
My figurative language is getting the best of me...oof.
Well, I'm off to bed now, because I just heard my mom wake up and rustle about in the kitchen. I stayed very still so she couldn't hear the tick-tacking of my keyboard, etc. In fact, I'm on her computer, and I'm using it to stay up late to talk about myself. How rude.
I'll say then, farewell to all who might read my blog. And good luck understanding it.
With much exhaustion,
Celka
No comments:
Post a Comment