Plain Jane

I feel awkward in who I am. When I was in junior high I was an oddball, a nerd, and so was my best friend. As we sat in the cafeteria toward the end of 8th grade she looked at me from across the table and told me that we were going to change. That we could be popular too. And we did. I learned that people like people with personality, and learned how to be loud, funny, original, and confident. Now it's six years later and I'm trying to unlearn all of that. All of those characteristics have become a stuck part of who I am, but I'm reattaining those lost qualities that made me different. Mostly, the silence. I wrote this in us history in the middle of all of my notes. And since it won't let me indent on here, I'm putting ~~'s.

I don't have an answer!
I don't have a response;
~~to your story,
~~to your history,
~~to your causes and effects,
~~to your humor but to laugh.
And maybe smile,
Probably frown,
~~and in due time I won't cry or hold.
I'm not lame.
I'm not dumb!
I'm not boring.
What I am is listening. And I hear you.
And I'm interested.

Stories don't just spill out of me, and I don't tell people about myself unless they ask. I often walk around looking as though I have an unhappy disposition, and I often wonder if anyone could really be interested or care for someone as seemingly deadpan as me. People around here only like you if you're happy or funny or entertaining. And sometimes I am. But often I'm not. Will people like me if I'm not?











And in a world of people judging one another, I look at my impression of myself, and how I think others see me, and I feel as odd as this:
And also as beautiful.







The second picture down of the girl with her eyes closed is from Chrissie White's Flickr.
The last picture of the little girl is from Paulchen's Flickr.
Both of these people posted these pictures with the caption, "This is not me." They may not have captured themselves, but they've certainly captured me.

12/12/10