It's waiting.
An intangible object is waiting for me to press the keys, to write an introduction and introduce myself and make readers' skin go cold, but I'm not so sure I'll be able to do that.
But I'll definitely try.
Hi.
I'm not very good at introductions, and I'm even worse at trying to come up with things to say about myself, so I'm not even going to try. I'm sick of the whole routine, the first day of school and the 'tell us your name and your favourite color and something unique about you' because, in all honesty, nobody cares. Nobody's listening. Nobody is truly interested in whether I like green more than blue, or that I'm an ambidextrous in the making.
NOBODY CARES.
So I'm not going to say that. I'm not going to give the generic answer that everybody wants to hear, my age and my likes and my favourite animal, because if I did, I have a strong feeling most everybody would stop reading right there. Why? Nobody cares.
(And, no. I'm not referring to Odysseus's Nobody.)
But I will make an attempt to introduce myself, for anybody who hasn't abandoned their attempt at reading this quite yet.
In one word, I would say that I'm hidden. I live in a broken family in a broken neighborhood in a community of people that claim they're God's gift to mankind, and the worst part is that everybody thinks the same about me. Sundays are church days, and I'm there sitting in a pew week after week, and to literally everybody around me, I'm just another one of them.
I'm so sick of it.
And I want to leave.
I'm hidden. And maybe that's the reason that everybody seems to overlook me, that my best friend moved on and my other best friend acts like he doesn't know me, and I'm the person who knows everybody's name but would never admit it, because nobody knows mine. I'm invisible. But that's not entirely a bad thing.
I took this class because I wanted to write. For as long as I can remember, I've been writing. One year, I went as far to ask my friends for notebooks and pens for my birthday. True story. So when I saw that Creative Writing had an opening, sign me up.
But this is far from what I expected. We're not developing characters, we're developing ourselves. And we aren't creating settings and antagonists and an archetype of the Hero's Journey- we're trying to create our own world, our own journey. And I'm excited.
Paris, to me, is a complete cliche. But, in a way, that's why I like it. In some ways, I'm that kind of person, the one that refuses to like a song on the radio if it's one that's being sung by everybody. And, to me, that's what Paris is. Paris is the ultimate destination, for romance and adventure, and at first, I couldn't stand it. I didn't want to play into it. But, the more I thought about it, I absolutely love it. Because,
we are all cliche.
Especially me.
Welcome to Paris.
“I've seen you, beauty, and you belong to me now, whoever you are waiting for and if I never see you again, I thought. You belong to me and all Paris belongs to me and I belong to this notebook and this pencil.” -Ernest Hemingway.
