Recently I've decided to say screw it. I have reached the point in my life where I no longer care so, I've decided screw it I am doing things how I want to from now. Let me explain a little. Since I’ve been writing I realized my style was unlike anyone else’s and remains so. Here's an example:

"Languidly, as the ebony abyss gazes without hesitation on to the piercing edges of dawn, a force shone no sign of capture on to the prey that had already expired in its eye. The Prey’s atoms dissolving one by one seeping into the neurological center of the Killer. Submerging into the center’s crevices, exploring every square inch, feeling the walls that will forever be called home, set in the Killer’s islands, blue with the shore brimming in a tundra forcing itself upon it, sweeping the Sights inside. The Sights that come from beyond the tundra, beyond the blue and passed the depths of the navy ocean..."

See what I mean?

I remember being in high school in all of my advanced English classes and feeling like I didn’t belong. Despite getting high grades just like the rest of them, there was an obvious difference. They had the same humor, logical mentality, and overall vibe. It wasn't a bad vibe I just couldn't mesh well with it. I was more abstract. Don't get me wrong, there were a few key people I bonded greatly with in there, (*cough Cory, Ben, Ryan, and Andie). But when called on in class, my input always seemed like it was from another planet but surprisingly, my peers liked it. So, despite not feeling like I belonged, I did fit in.

I wasn’t ever completely happy though because no one could understand fully what I meant. I often times had to hold a lot of what I was thinking back which internally made me feel terrible. All through school I would wonder, “what’s wrong with me?” or “why does my brain process and think like this but no one else does?”. I felt lonely, like they saw me as a different species, I felt like I’d never find anyone like me, let alone write like me.

My writing though is what propelled me through school and not only shocked and mystified my teachers but I gained some notoriety from my peers.

They would say things like, “she’s such a great writer!”, “her writing is so different”. The problem with this was that when I asked why it was, they would respond with “I don’t know.” If I asked if I could get feedback, “I’m not sure what it was about and it was hard to understand but it was good!”. This cancelled out the initial praise I received. In fact, it made me feel a little worse. No one understood:

"Stopping is futile, was it all worth the while?

Seeping in to the starry abyss, doesn’t it make you smile?

Never being missed,

Temptation has you fixated on a midnight Pyre,

Why doesn’t it set off the fire?

Where’s the feeling of going higher?

Where is it at all?

Its all diminished, your heart beats? Those are finished

Isn’t it exquisite? Dancing in a life so simplistic

What? It isn’t? Temptation wasn’t so virtuosic

It didn’t lead to astonishment, only a dead dimension?

Where’s your mind, I don’t see it in your eyes

Has it lost its sight or its insight?

Despite fitting in, I didn’t belong. The closest I’d come to was with my teachers who were able to decipher my writing and tell me why it was good. They told me who I wrote like as well, they pointed me to Jack Kerouac, Stephen King, the 60’s beatnik writers, they told me I wrote in a fashion that wasn’t seen that much anymore called “existentialism” with stream of consciousness. From there, I was able to find famous writers who made me feel good about myself. It felt nice for a little while knowing that the way I wrote could be successful. I was closer to belonging somewhere...but still far off.

Anyway, point is, even now still in my senior year of college I feel that I don’t fully belong. I still feel that a lot of people don't understand me or my writing completely. At this point no one will. There are millions of you out there that will feel this same way and many of you reading this will be going through this same thing. That constant feeling of self doubt, if it's worth it, if you should drop your passion, if you should conform. I tried conforming recently. I absolutely cannot do it. It is not justifiable to me to censor how I am just for the sake of people understanding my writing. Just for the sake of people understanding me. I write the way I do for a purpose, I am how I am for a reason. I'd rather be myself than fit in and be unhappy. I hope the rest of you will say the same.