Here I am

Some time in my life, I asked myself.  Do I belong in a storybook? and at one time, I did. I felt belonged in an oblique corner. People asked me what the hell is wrong with you? Do you know anything? And I hung the guilt, on my shoulder, for so many years. I knew no one was listening to me, when I begged for mercy and open an ear. And all that time I held strong, I fought tough against my anger. Until I couldn't control it, help came along. My story came out like a half written book. I was a shut book. After 5 months have moved passively, I live in a new place. A place where I had to be independent, where I had to open up. And I did. I breathed in, a new life and exhaled my dead past. I triumphed from, what my parents expectations would have killed me.  I am an artist, but I didn't realize it until something woke me up. I am an artist of the critical world and of myself. I celebrate my accomplishments, and how far I have gotten. And night out of all, makes my whole life. It's an award given to me, as an outstanding young woman. It represents me of my writing, photography, and as a new person. Throughout 2 years, as a short human, I have grown up, and matured. I have learned who I am, and how great I realy am. No matter what people say about me, or how they put me down, They will never be like me. I have accomplished so much to be who I am, and what my future plans will be. Now, I am running my own life, and no one else, will take that away from me. Now, here I am.Anything is fine, I love receiving compliments from my viewers. Thank you for visiting. Written March 6th, 2002 © on Mar 06 2002 10:52 AM PST   18 • 0 • 12