Oh, hello there! You, with the face? Unless you don’t have a face, that’d be awkward – but still! Come one, come all to the Scoot’s gonna fail her maths final and is back to her blog after 3 weeks party!
I have missed this. Not the heat from my laptop dangerously warming le thighs, but this, this platform. I guess I’m back partially because I’m procrastinating, and because Jess updated today, and also because I met one of my followers last weekend! She’s twelve years old and asked me to write something for her, so I guess this is for you Alenshka! Not this specifically but this in general…you get what I mean x_x
So I have a tendency of blabbering on about nothing while valuable people make meaningful contributions to society, and also to those of us who live on the internet and make no meaningful contribution to society. I blabber a lot. In Afrikaans, I’d be called a babbelkous . Regardless, I like to blabber. I like to talk too much and yell a lot and get yelled at for talking too much and yelling to loud and causing a general ruckus…okay, maybe less than I thought.
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be introverted. I guess for the first couple of years in my life in school, I was introverted. I used to love hearing what people had to say, I used to need time alone to regroup, I used to take great pleasure in teaching other people things I’d read, counting people ahead of me, observing behaviour, and having conversations with myself.
Funnily enough, nothing’s changed. Though if you ask anybody who thinks that he or she knows me, you’ll learn that introvert is often the absolute opposite-last-world-ended-all-dictionaries-destroyed-no-more-words-crazy-dilemma-we’re-all-secretly-dead word to describe me.
I’m crazy loud. I know, it get’s to people’s ears, and sometimes to the people themselves, but what can I do? I like to talk, I like to sing, I like to live most days! And with good reason, I mean I think it’s pretty amazing that one day you weren’t even thought of, and in the next ten years you’re fighting with your parents. Okay, perhaps not the best example, but still: life is insane, and totally harsh and ridiculous, but lovely nonetheless. (Sorry about the bold. I love that word. Nonetheless. Eep!)
Back to my struggle of intro-extra-upside-topsy-turvy-vertedness, I don’t really know what I am. I don’t know what makes me not introverted, apart from the fact that I love people, and I love to be around them. Okay, so maybe I know. I guess I’m just not willing to accept the label of ‘extrovert’ for some strange reason. I’ve always hated labels. Somebody puts you in a box and it takes a really long to get out. And once you finally do, you’re put in another box, and another, until you finally break out of all these boxes, only to be put inside one inside the ground.
Anyway, that’s really all I have to say today. I have to study, though I’d much rather go outside. It’s drizzling, you know those pathetic little storms that keep rumbling on with their thunder, and tease about with their periodical raindrops? That kind.
I’m glad you read this, because if you do, it means that you can read. And some people can’t. And no, I’m not saying that because I live in Africa: I’m saying that because I appreciate reading, and because you should too.
You’re fabulous. And you’d probably think that’s obligatory for me to say, but it’s not. I genuinely think so – I mean, you read this far.
All my love, all the time