boredom

I’m about to share with you my biggest insecurity.  This may seem like a heavy topic, and certainly not a typical poem, but it’s the only way you might get a real sense of who I am. 

             Before I let you in on my insecurity, I want to share its origins. I’ve actually just recently started to recognize this fear, but I have a feeling it has always kind of been there. It’s not something I invented by myself; it’s a concept others have instilled in me.  Between both being the subject and seeing other people criticized for it, my views on this topic were formed.  It’s, in my opinion, one of the worst possible things a person could be.  My biggest fear is to be boring. Humans are such extraordinary beings, and to consider anything in this life boring I find simply ridiculous. 

Growing up, I was a relatively shy kid and I think people confused my not saying anything with not having anything to say.  However, as time went on, I found words that could not be kept in. At first, they sat in the background of holiday traditions and camping trips to the beach. Then I discovered them hiding in late night bonfires, Apples to Apples games and road trips to nowhere with friends.  I found them in my paintings and projects.  They were sewn into my personal style and favorite sweaters.  The words were waiting for me in the places I traveled to, the movies I watched, the books I read, and the music I listened to. I am who I am not because of the experiences I have had but because of what I have taken from them. 

Once I learned that I didn’t have to try to impress people by being interesting, that I was doing it for me, the world opened up.  Those people that I wanted so badly to like me suddenly cared when I stopped.  My words still aren’t always bold, sometimes they shake and they fall, but hey, they’re saying something worth listening to. 

I’ve only had a little taste of what the world has to offer but it’s enough to keep me wanting more.   I’m looking forward to the new adventures I know college will bring me. The ideas of discovering or creating yourself are clichéd; I’m finding ways to lose myself.