My story is like everyone else's. I was not who I was to become and yet undecided of who that should be. Granted I had that horrible temper that would get me in trouble almost all the time, either from teachers or parents, however I was pretty much "normal". I got great grades, I was the "hopeful" out of my 3 other sisters. That drastically changed, however, when I began to identify myself with a genre, so to speak.
I fell in love with the goth, punk rock look. The drastic tones, the almost taboo clothing, it was enough to make my head spin and I fell into it so easily. Black was my calling card, backed up by "I don't care" attitude. It was something i felt comfortable in. In the later years, as I took my angst out on a crumpled pack of obligatory clove cigarettes, (regrettably looking back at my stupid choice to start smoking, now that I'm at a pack a day of menthols), fighting with my parents, and the general "you don't understand me" fights.
Thirteen was such a sucky age. You don't know who you are and you don't know what you want to be. I'm unsure if it comes like lightning while you are still thirteen but inches away from fourteen when you get this epiphany of the person you want to be (even if its just for now). However, thirteen held an innocence, a naievity that is quickly lost. If I thought thirteen was bad, god, sixteen is hell on earth. Perchance that will be a different blog....
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You paint a vivid picture here... So do you see that 13 year old as a part of you, or as something foreign and other?
ReplyDeleteI really think it will always be a part of me. it tends to resurface every now and again, but looking back im glad that those actions arent as relevant to who i am right now.
ReplyDeleteI remember the thirteen year old you, powerful little creature that you were. I must admit, you made calm little wall paper me wonder where that individualism of yours came from.
ReplyDeleteid say it came from a lot of pixie stix and mountain dew lol
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