#drafts #realrealtalk #moretocome

Hey peeps. So here is literally all of the things I tried to spit out during the 4 hours it took me to try writing this post. I had been thinking about what to say all weekend but I just couldn't keep it together today. I think the pressure of making it count is what got me. It ended up I couldn't think of anything more real than this at the moment. Anyways, enjoy the realness. Don't worry. I'll post something better later ;) 


   My Mom told me once that I am a creature of connection. That my heart was actually made of silver and that whenever I connected to someone I shone like the moon. Not obvious, but subtle, steady, and beautiful. Not obvious, but alive.
My Dad somehow used to tell me that I was responsible for everyone but myself. 
My sister tells me I am a blessing.
My fear tells me that I'll never stand out. That these 3 precious hours could have been used for sleep.
And my heart tells me to tell you whatever is on my mind. I'm not sure what real talk looks like and I may just post this for the credit.
all this talk about me,

Real talk looks like a long drive in the rain, just so we can hear her voice again.

Real talk looks like not minding no make-up but wearing it anyway, fear of the fake looks or no looks at all. Only the things her eyes would see.

Real talk looks like 5 beautiful blondes, and one average brunette. 

"Hi. I'm Katy. I wrote this poem last night, is it okay if I read it to you? And I'm sorry if it sucks, its only my 1st draft."
"Hi. I'm Katy. I'm the 7th of 9 kids. Don't worry, I'm the only one who acts like this."
"Hi. I'm Katy. Nice to meet you. Do you want to hang out with me and my sister this Saturday? Don't panic, its only to be nice." (its mainly for her, just to be nice)(ends with saying that apologizing sucks, don't apologize for your 1st drafts thats stupid)

I heard a quote once that said "Around everyone's neck hangs a sign that says 'make me feel important.'"
Make me feel whole
Make me shine
Make me feel seen
Help me
Help me. 
There used to be a saying in my house that said "Every right implies a responsibility, every opportunity an obligation, every possession a duty." 
My Dad used to tell me that I was responsible for everyone but myself.
My Mom told me once that I am a creature of connection and that my heart was actually made of silver. Calm, subtle, steady. And that whenever I connected to someone I shone like the moon. Not obvious, but alive.
And my sister told me once that I wear my heart on my sleeve and I am a walking sponge, absorbing every unsaid word, every tear, every cry in the night. 
She told me it wasn't affecting me for the better, but true to her words, I took it to heart. 
On my first day of high school

But even real talk couldn't tell you how many times I had to change scenery, take a break or rewrite something completely different, just for this little prompt. Real talk looks like poetic words and churning depths, but stress on paper. just keeping it simple. Real talk looks like me still hoping to post on this blog when the stress of standing out dies down

Real talk looks like the too-intense desire to be meaningful and different actually make her words meaningless (like it always does)

Real talk looks like the burning desire to make her last words her most meaningful. But maybe thats why this post was the hardest because I freeze up at the thought of goodbyes. I'm not ready to say goodbye to Paris just yet. No, not for me. I may not have creative writing 2 next semester, but I'll be back.