What's going on here?

What's going on here?
Well Amanda and Emily both have goals to write more. Amanda wants to write a poem and a half a day for the next year, while Emily wants to write for National Write a Novel Month (NaNoWriMo), which is usually in November, but she is going to do it from now until her mission on May 18th. Here is were you can follow us in our goals! Leave comments, encouragement, and what ever else you feel like.

Friday, May 13, 2011

Kicking the Habit

I crave attention.

I don’t mean in the normal, someone please look at me

Kind of way.

No I need it.

I thrive upon people approving of me.

And I know it’s not good.

Look what it’s done to countless friendships.

And when people don’t approve?

I just push them away.

Because if I shut them out,

They’ll be the one remembering me.

But I have a brave friend.

A friend who stood up and told the truth and to her I am eternally grateful.

Because I’ve been thinking about it for a long time,

But I ain’t ever had the courage to tell the attention monster inside of me

To sit down and shut up.

No I’ve seen it for awhile.

I’ve known it’s methods for quite some time.

But see there is the monster and then there is me.

The me that does want it.

The me that in the moment says its okay.

The me that says I could write out my whole story in this poem and none of you would blame me for wanting a little attention for myself.

You would say it’s okay it was the way you grew up.

It’s the lack thereof that drives you to find and consume it.

But I am not going to do that,

Because that is just that monster once again rearing it’s ugly head.

So I will not write that sob story out for the world to hear.

My fingers have hit those keys enough times to know I don’t like the shock.

Because there is the attention

And then there is the back lash.

The people who look at me funny.

The people who feel sorry for me.

The people who won’t hang out with me for fear that what I’ve got is catching.

But it’s not.

Don’t worry.

I’m fine

Because as long as I don’t care so much about myself

About the me that needs to feed

I don’t have a problem with the world.

There is nothing that can touch me.

I was born with a mind and a spirit that soars above the sorrows that might bring me down.

But there is a bird trap I occasionally fly into.

And when I fly into that I fall.

I fall hard and fast

And just like a drug addict I’m once again pounding at the door of my dealer

Begging them.

Pleading them.

Look at me.

Look at me

And tell me I’ve done alright.

Tell me that I’ve made good with what I got.

But even me writing this poem about not wanting that attention,

About trying to live life for awhile out of that spotlight that burns

I’ve been feeling that monsters claws at the back of my mind.

So don’t read into this.

Don’t say I’m sorry.

And if you know my story don’t mention this.

Because it’s not about where I came from,

It’s not about who I’ve been in the past.

It’s about where I’m going now.

And I’m determined that’s a place with no bird traps and no monsters.

A place that I can feel finally free and never doubt the words coming out of my mouth.

Never doubt the way people look at me.

And never doubt myself.

I crave attention,

But I’m kicking the habit.

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