Back in my high school days, I used to wander the halls and endlessly wonder about the real world outside of that odd, clique centered place. My notebook became my best friend, as I wrote in it endlessly about my daily activities and the people that I encountered throughout the day. All the thoughts that would have stayed scrambled around in my head otherwise. Recently I went back into those high school notebooks. Some may have be embarrassed by their old writings, and trust me I used to hide these notebooks so no one else would dare read any of it. But as time has passed, I've learned to embrace it. It may not be the best quality, but it's me and I try to take pride in that. Maybe there's something in there for you all to relate to as well, as we find comfort in the growth that we've experienced as people over the years. We've all got to start somewhere.
Here's a snipped of the brainstorming that I was doing for one of my college scholarship essays, back in 2012.
...I’ve been forcibly stuck around stagnant normalcy for almost eighteen years now. People these days have this serious, soul-suffering desire to color inside the lines like a worn crayon. Being different in public is as threatening as being physically violent towards another human being, so we as a human race try to keep up the illusion that we are ordinary in every aspect and definition of the word. How dare anybody wear fire-engine red to a party that is clearly black tie, just because?
Through the deadly weapons of paper and pen, I’ve been able to dream a world of Technicolor. Cerulean blues clash with maroon reds with the infinite courage and confidence of a skydiver dropping into the edge of the Earth. It’s a beautiful sight that’s been conformed to the lock box of my mind for years.
I’ve had this distinct view of the world ever since I was a bright-eyed and bushy tailed child. I used to scribble endless stories about my Barbie and Ken dolls into my pink and purple password journal. These stories were bubbling in my head all day, so I had to put pencil to paper and let the pretend take the deep breaths of the real world. But I wouldn’t let anybody read them. These stories were pushed under my bed, underneath some old Skittles wrappers and a broken Easy Bake oven.
But now, I believe that I’m ready to brush off the old cobwebs and let someone read my stories. What I want most in this world is for people to have the opportunity of seeing the world the way I see it. It’s selfish to let these complex, dynamic characters and stories stay locked up especially in a world where Mary-Sues and John Does rule. The world would be instantaneously inspired to not be so black and white. Because me personally, I’m royal purple....
I challenge you all to take a minute to look at your past work, and witness the growth that you've made. Sometimes it's hard to see in the moment. But, once you put the stepping stones of your growth in front of you it's hard not to smile.
