Well, wordpress.com told me to use this post to tell my readers why I started this blog and what I plan to do with it. I find that to be quite a ridiculous suggestion. I started this blog to write… and I plan to… write stuff. Not a good enough answer? Oh geez, here we go then.
I started a blog because as a fifteen-year-old teenage girl with a passion for something and a longing to be heard, my audience doesn’t get much bigger than my high school Language Arts teacher reading my class papers. I have words to share with the world. I have things I would love to say. Sadly, society tells me I should shut my mouth and patiently take notes and do as I’m told-to stay in my place and keep my dreams confined to the small space in the back of my mind that also harbors getting an A+ on a Geometry final or saving up enough money to buy a new car. My plans for the future are shared with friends more preoccupied with what boy is going to ask them to the winter formal than what they plan to do with the rest of their lives. My goal of becoming a published author is brought up in polite conversations with distant relatives who smile pitifully and say, “Oh honey, how sweet,” without any real confidence in me. And so I escape to my refuge, my safe haven, my place of sanctity- in other words, my small bedroom, with its Harry Potter posters and a sleeping cat on my bed, where I can sort of block out the sounds of my little sisters screaming and summon up small doses of inspiration from the depths of my soul and leak it out from my fingertips onto the computer keyboard on which I am typing now.
I write -very simply- because I love to. Ever since I was a young girl, I would want nothing more than to lose myself in a world completely my own, a world I had created through my own writing. I would paint stories much like an artist paints masterpieces; with words as my only tool, I could conjure up a picture and make the colors and details as vivid in the mind of my reader as in the eyes of the beholder of a rather marvelous painting. It was -and still is- a drive within me that I could never truly understand. I did not choose to fall in love with the language, it was more like the language chose to fall in love with me. I was born to write. Nothing feels more perfect than to open myself up and spill out all my thoughts and ideas onto paper. I do not limit myself to what I can or cannot write. I sometimes take years to finish a novel based off of a favorite book of mine, or a few days to work on a touching short story that came to mind during a bus ride to school, and if on some rainy afternoon I’m feeling rather poetic, I take out a pen and let my inner Whitman come shining through. There’s no limit to an imagination that constantly, stubbornly, and yet lovingly stretches your mind, looking for new ways to get to new places, going in leaps and bounds.
The main thing I want the world to know -the central idea that drives my being- is that there is no greater way to succeed than to do what you love. I think it is a much braver thing to chase after your dream of becoming a preschool teacher or a restaurant chef or a stay-at-home mom than to become the richest and most revered doctor or attorney there ever was, with more mansions and private islands than they could care to count. I am a firm believer in the idea that we all come to this world with something special about us, a passion in our hearts that sprouts like a weed but grows the most beautiful flowers. Happiness will only come to you if you embrace that passion. So ignore the voices of everyone around you telling you what you should be. Block out the temptation of money and fame over what you have always dreamed of doing. Don’t be the person who listened to the other failures, the screw-ups, telling you that there’s no sense in doing what you love because there will be no benefits to reap. Don’t be the person who looks back on their life and regrets not taking the other road when it presented itself before their feet. Be the one who rushed forward despite the doubters and the non-believers, the one who took life in their hands and just ran with it. Don’t ever wake up one morning with a hole in your chest and no sense of purpose. Listen to your inner voice. I promise you, it knows you better than you think. In the wise words or Mark Twain, “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails.
Explore. Dream. Discover.”