So, tell me about yourself.
I always blank out at this part. Whether it be a date, a job interview, a team building exercise, or and introduce yourself post, I always for some reason in that moment seem to develop some form of conditional amnesia and forget everything about who I am.
Weird right? I suppose that would be a good way to describe myself; weird. I’ve been told I’m weird enough times it must be true. Though, my Nana preferred the terms quirky and eccentric.
Usually at this part I define myself by others. I’m the second of six daughters and one son, my father is a US Army Veteran/car salesman, my mother was cool before she developed a nasty addiction and overdosed at thirty-six years old. I had an abusive as hell husband who’s currently sleeping on the streets somewhere in Florida, the only thing he left behind is our incredible, perfect, brilliant, beautiful daughter. She’s six, and very intense. I have a good group of friends, and eclectic bunch full of musicians, artists, astrologers, holistic health nuts, redneck warrior women and more. I have boyfriend who is in all ways the opposite of everything that I am (you can find him here too) yet somehow, we manage to find a way to live together.
By this part, I can list things I like… long days in the forest, slow rain and thunder, good books, herbal baths, cups of tea, yoga on the grass, baking. Not that I really do those things anymore… at all. I think the best way to describe myself would be a storm trapped in a bottle. There’s a lot going on in there that isn’t allowed to reach the outside, constant movement as I scramble to find a straight line to who I am. I tend to get lost very easily, both physically and mentally. I guess that’s who I am, a splatter painting leaning against a living room corner. That one you got at a garage sale and have been meaning to put up for weeks but haven’t quite gotten to yet. Yeah, I’m that.
Then they always want to know, “why are you here?” Good question. I don’t normally know where I am let alone why. I can’t tell you exactly why I’m here because I don’t really know. I do know that boyfriend sent me the link, because he believes in my talent and potential far more than I do, and because he knows I like to write. I don’t speak well; my words get mixed up and tossed around in my mouth. It takes and incredible amount of effort to pull my thoughts into sentences that most people can understand. See, I don’t think in sentences… I think in images and feelings. I’ve been able to push through enough to function in society, but verbal communication has never been a strong suit.
When I stop trying to speak with my mouth and let it come out of my hands though, it works. It flows out of my fingertips as easily as the pictures flow through my mind. I’ve been writing as a hobby for as long as I can remember, so it makes since to continue to do so now, especially when it does so much to ease my mind. I never sought out with the intention of making a living off my writing, its more of a necessity of life for me, something I must do to survive comfortable. So, I’m not here for that part of it, though it is a nice bonus if it works out. I’m here quite simply to have another outlet for my ramblings. Do I hope that readers enjoy my brain dumps? Of course, I do! Just like I hope that people enjoy the pastries I create.
Myself…
I’m the consciousness of dust in a galactic nursery, floating, observing, waiting for a gravity field to catch me and form me into something solid trapped in this alien body, on this alien world with no form of instruction on how to survive. I am everything, and I am nothing at all.
I am Accio, nice to meet you.
Welcome!