Baby, you’re the right kinda wrong…

There’s a song in my head right now that won’t let up. Loving you,isn’t really something I should do, shouldn’t want to spend my time with you, I should try to be strong, But baby you’re the right kinda wrong. Remember Coyote Ugly? That song was on the soundtrack.I’m not saying that’s what’s going on with me right now, I’m just saying it’s a song that’s on my mind. Coincidence perhaps? Denial? A sign?  I love to sing. In all honesty,think it’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at in my life. I used to like writing poetry when I was about ten or eleven. My poetry would eventually lead to song lyrics. I would usually steal a tune from one of my favourite songs,because I didn’t have the foggiest about how I could create a melody. I remember putting my own lyrics to the beat of Madonna’s ‘Cherish’ a song I loved when I was about six.  My teachers adored my poetry. I would write in the neatest handwriting, and draw pictures of falling leaves, rainbows behind the clouds, or whatever else looked pretty that day. My poetry would be hung on the wall for everyone to read. Boy, could I rhyme. I would earn my house, Phoenix, housepoints for my good work. I would write stories from my imagination with such vivid imagery my teacher would be sure I’d copied them from a library book. Once, I was told to read part of my story at the school assembly. I felt special, for once I stood out from the crowd because of my acheivements. Not just because I was the new girl, or because I looked different from everyone else around me, but because I was me. Fast forward three or so years. I’m dealing with a whole new environment all over again, my personality is changing. Once again, I’m trying to discover who I am, but I’ve failed to figure it out.I’m supposed to feel better about myself because I’m home, but I don’t. I still feel lost. I feel confused. Am I supposed to  be in the so called ‘popular crowd?’ A friend of mine once told me I’m a ‘clique chic’. I’m guessing she meant I can’t survive without a close knit group of friends. So why is it that I’ve always felt like a loner? When I was about fourteen, I wrote my third song. The title was simple enough, straight to the point. It was called ‘Why?’ This came at a time when I felt so lost, school was a pain, home was a pain, life was a pain. The people I called my friends somehow felt like I wasn’t who they thought I was, which was ok, because I couldn’t figure out who I was either. Why did I have to be? Can’t help the way I am, coz it’s just me, How could I be so blind? Now I have lost my life, left it all behind… That was it. No verses, no bridge. Just a brief chorus that said everything I wanted to say. I don’t exactly remember what I meant when I wrote the last line, all I remember is that I used to sing those four lines with all the heart and soul I could muster.  Little did I know when I started blogging that it would be so therapeutic. I hadn’t thought about these things in years. Well, I don’t have a knack for poetry or writing anymore, I do what I can. As I progressed in school, my English teacher asked me to try out Literature, he thought I should give it a go, said I’d be good at it. My spirits soar because someone has faith in me,but once again my feelings of inadequacy creep in, and I politely decline, positive that it would just be another thing I’d be good at doing bad.  Maybe with enough practice I’ll be able to add writing stories and poetry to the list of things I can do well. But right now, I think I’ll just stick to the one. ‘Til next time. Peace, T.