My favorite planet is Pluto. Even if it’s not considered a planet anymore, it’s still my favorite. “Don’t worry Pluto; I’m not a planet either.” I would hold Pluto in my arms and comfort it if it was upset about being left out like that.
I can sit around for hours listening to music no one else has ever heard of. And I just can’t go on a minute without listening to music. It’s a miracle I survived sitting through a three hour test. Heck, I can’t even fall asleep without listening to music.
My idea of heaven was always a huge table with various deserts on it; mostly cheesecake. I loved cheesecake when I was younger and every dream of heaven would involve a huge gate that opened up slowly to reveal… A long table with a bunch of cheesecake on it. Still looks like that to me to this day. Although I’m not that crazy about cheesecake anymore…
I like to create movies in my mind. Brief moments, memories, sceneries; all repressed into a story; a film. It just helps me pass the time. I just sit around listening to music and staring at a black wall. Now you know one of the reasons why my grades are so low. But, maybe I can be a movie director?
I hate silence. Sometimes, to avoid it, I’d talk to myself, or question things out loud. I’ll recite poetry, I’ll speak my mind. It’s just that silence makes me realize how alone I really am. It makes me feel even lonelier. Therefore, dead silence is a big no-no for me.
I don’t think I know how to hate. See, I was backstabbed, used, and neglected. And that one person who made my life a living Hell… I hesitate when I say I hate her, because I really don’t. I’m just not capable of hatred, I guess. “I thought of a rose when I wrote this.”
I draw on my left hand and wrist a lot. I always carry around a sharpie just to write poetry, song lyrics, or poems of my hands. Sometimes doodle a bit too. My wrist is pretty messy looking to me; scars and random lyrics all over. It says ‘Trilobite’ on my hand right now. Simply because I love that word.
I apologize for EVERYTHING. I even apologize for apologizing too much. Weird right? Its like this; you can kill me and I’d use my last breath to apologize for staining your shirt. It’s like a reflex or something.
If I had a Sweet Sixteen, it wouldn’t be about me. I just hate being in the center of attention. So, it would just be a party. A party called ______’s Sweet Sixteen… Even though its not focused on her. It’s just that I’ve spoken in front of crowds before. Never doing that again.
I always wanted to be a mermaid. Not really shocking, but it’s weird how much I tried to become one. I used to hold my breath underwater for as long as possible. And I’d always try to sit on the bottom of the deep end in the pool. I’d swim underwater, look up at the surface, and imagine what it would be like to just live there. That feeling of weightlessness is something I can’t live without.
I rarely accept compliments. I honestly try my best to say ‘Thank you’, but what comes out most of the time is stuff like, ‘Nah. You are. I’ll never be’. Self-deprecation. I just strongly believe that I am an ugly child.
I think deeply about the universe. What can be beyond our galaxy? Another galaxy just holding other smaller galaxies? And what about outer space? What if it’s not endless? What if it’s inside another, bigger world? It’s all ‘what if’…
Hurting people is like taboo for me. It kills me inside knowing that I’ve hurt someone. It probably hurts me more than it hurts them. I’m constantly trying to make people around me happy. It sometimes hurts me in the process but, I’m fine with that.
I name almost every inanimate objects and plants. I once had a cactus named George, and a rosemary bush named Rosemary; since I’m so original. But come on, I try.
I have a necklace with a piece of Sikhote- Alin meteorite on it. My uncle gave it to me for my birthday last year. Before he gave it to me, I believed that being around a piece of meteor will cause gravity to just vanish, and everything would just start flying around. I held it and asked him with a serious face why we weren’t floating.
I don’t have a favorite color. While everyone else has that one favorite color, I got none. I like all colors. Or, I just can’t choose. As a result, the walls in my room are three different colors, maybe more.
When I draw, I make the same facial expressions as the ones I’m drawing. That’s one of the reasons I hate being around others when I draw. I caught myself in the act once. Just drawing someone frustrated, and then I realized how angry I looked. I drew someone with a Mona Lisa smile; realized I was mimicking the facial features. “I’m embarrassed.”
I think some ugly things are actually really beautiful. I have a hairless sphinx, and I think she’s absolutely adorable. Everyone else just sees her wrinkles and says ‘Eww’. I also see beauty in the girls that are considered ugly. Like me. After all, it only matters what’s on the inside, right?
I can be very random at times. I like ponies and ‘Merr’ isn’t even the most random anymore. One time, I pretended that my imaginary friend fell out the window during 9th period. All was nice and quiet. All my friends just hanging out in my teacher’s room. Then I ran to the window screaming “Bob, no! Don’t jump!” Oh, the looks I got.
I’m shameless and shy. In front of complete strangers, but with my friends, I’ll just do something completely random or stupid just for shits and giggles. Yet, meeting someone for the first time or being called on in class; I’m too quiet. No one can hear me.
I used to take photos of the sky whenever it looked beautiful. I’d just stop in the middle of the street and take a photo. I’d take a photo of it in the morning when I wake up. I’d take a photo of it when I’m walking home from school. Now that I think about it, I’d better start doing that again. I miss it.
When I cry, I’m not noisy. Tears just pour down my face and I try my best not to sniffle or make a noise. That way no one notices. And even if I’m alone I still try to hold it in. “Don’t want my imaginary friends laughing at me.”
For a long time now, all I wanted to be was beautiful. I realized that I’m just too strange. So, can I be strange AND beautiful? So strange that it’s beautiful. Like the Milky Way. It’s strange, and it harbors all these planets, and all these stars. But, that’s what makes it beautiful. In a strange way… I’m never good at explaining things.
