My Rants

The Incredible True Story

...Of My Life.

I was born at 6:21 in the morning on Monday, March 31, 2003. I was named after a translation of a word meaning to sing. Probably because I was screaming so much. I don't remember much of my childhood, but I was always a warm child. Happy, helpful and polite. I was a joy to be around. I used to genuinely enjoy being around people and interacting with children.

Then I grew up.

I used to be around a lot of adults growing up. They don't recognize me. They don't see the bubbly, optimistic child I was. They see a cold, indifferent teenaged girl.

I suppose that's what I am, at least, that's what I'm told I am.

Cold-hearted.

Selfish.

Cruel.

It's funny how the world labels you as these things when you aren't and then turns around and criticizes you when you become them. Society presents this warped and twisted version of you and when you become it, blames you for it.

Of course, I'm cold and selfish. Whenever I'm warm and engaging I am taken advantage of. Of course, I'm cruel. I'm only reflecting what I've been absorbing.

It's kind of like a sponge. If you put a sponge in a bowl of water, the sponge is going to soak up water. If you squeeze the sponge only water will be squeezed out. If you put a sponge in a bowl of water and squeeze and expect wine to be squeezed out then you're just damn stupid.

Perdon mon francais, s'il vous plait.

But since society isn't going to apologize for destroying my spirit. I may as well be the bigger person and apologize.

I'm sorry I'm not perfect.

I'm sorry I'm a teenager with hormones and that I won't be happy all the time.

I'm sorry that not agreeing with your stupid, illogical sentiment is an act of teenage rebellion.

I'm sorry that I can't smile through the crap that life deals me.

I'm sorry that I have feelings. Sorry that I hurt and get mad and depressed. Sorry that I can't deal with people watching me and judging waiting to see my fall just for a laugh.

I'm sorry that I'm a human being and therefore make mistakes.