Saturday, January 19, 2013

The Naked Truth

People think that I have a stick up my ass. Maybe not my close friends and persons I'm generally friendly with, but I can see that many of the people I am around that don't know me and just see me around think that I'm stuck up. I resent that. 
It actually saddens me quite a lot. My writings here are inspired by an artwork done by one of the contestants of Work of Art: Next Great Artist. What this artist did was she took a naked photo of herself and then wrote all her secrets, or rather her truths, over her body. I will not be posting a naked photo of myself, but I will be writing my own truths and things that show that I'm a person tooin protest of this unfortunate label.

I like eating healthy food. Just because I don't eat rubbish doesn't make me picky. It's just how I am.

Please stop being so surprised when I'm nice to you. I'm a nice person. I'm sorry if I ever gave you the impression that I'm not.

I do ballet. It is a beautiful, beautiful art of expression that requires dedication and practice, but also a love of movement and dance. Does being a bunhead make me a snob?

I want to let loose, like I seem to do around complete strangers, but when I'm around you people I just seem to lose my voice.

I'm an optimist. I try to see the best in everything, and I find it sad that you would rather spend your days in misery of the supposed pointlessness of something and the loathing of me for pointing out that it's only you making it pointless.

Quit getting annoyed when I refuse to be the "Group representative speaker". Sometimes it's your turn too.

I think you're freaking sexy, but if I give that away, I'm afraid it'll put me in the "groupie zone".

I don't only listen to Pavarotti and Beethoven! Yes, I play the classical violin. Fine. Do the piano players you know only listen to Pavarotti? I thought not, so please don't assume I do.

I want you to notice that I'm not feeling great.
I want you to care more than "Howryou?"

I make damn good brownies. It's not arrogant knowing they're good. We've established that they're good, so why does it make me vain by saying so?

Teachers like me. I'm not a teachers pet. I just try. 
I participate. They see that. And?

I adore Christmas! Especially the joyous singing and cajoling.
I have a deep unfulfilled dream of going caroling.

I find you a threat. Actually no, my ego finds you a threat. You were always prettier, seemingly better and wittier than me. 
My ego resents that semblance.

I want to play too, but why is it that every time I try to join in, I feel like a complete intruder?

I don't swear much, but would you please stop making a big deal out of it when I do. It's not that significant. Really!

I love Greek dancing. I'm great at it, and when I dance, I really dance. I'm not showing off. I'm just doing what I do.
I also think our dance group is awesome. Don't mistake pride for big-headedness please. 

I'm scared that I'll go through high school without someone I like liking me back.

I like speaking the way I do. It's my personal brand of highfalutin, complete with long words you may or may not
understand. Here's a long word:supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

You may not have noticed, but I've been here for 10 and a half hours. I started feeling light headed 6 hours in and I feel like I'm going to pass out any second now. I work harder than you know.

We have three things in common. I'm not a boring person. 
We just have three things in common.

McDonald's is disgusting. A man once buried a Big Mac and a year later he unburied it and it looked exactly the same. Ew.

70% is a bad mark. I know 60% is okay for some, but 70% is a bad mark. End of discussion. 

I speak better Afrikaans than you. I'm half Afrikaans, hello. 
I'm not showing off; I just speak the damn language a bit more.

I wouldn't mind never seeing you again.

I really want a guy friend. Damn, I really do, but I seem to scare guys away. I tell myself it's because I challenge them more than other girls. I tell myself it's because I intimidate them or am too harsh. Maybe both are true. I think so.

I am obsessed with peanut butter. That smooth, nutty texture caressing my pallet while my tongue dances around my mouth is pure health fundi decadence. I could eat it straight out of the jar.


I hate the term trashy. The people who usually use it are trashy themselves. Maybe not in appearance. Trashy on the inside.

I'm going to miss you, dude. You are one of the people that I'm aware of that are always genuinely ecstatic when they see me.

Sometimes in life, you are going to meet someone that you just don't gel with. (Hi) It's not a crime. I just instantly didn't feel anything for you and vice versa.

I wish alice bands suited me. I really do, but all they do is make my face look square, or circular, or rectangular  Some geometric shape that shouldn't be associated with a face.

You have no idea who I am. Not even the slightest clue.

Blondes with black eyebrows look funny. Just dye the whole ensemble blonde please! It's a look! Seriously!

Quit teasing me about Kili. It is a legitimate term we climbers use for the highest peak in Africa. Was I supposed to say, "I summited Mount Kilimanjaro last month. Mount Kilimanjaro is 5895m high and Mount Kilimanjaro was one of the best experience of my life so far. Mount Kilimanjaro is one hectic mountain."?
Get the point?

I want to strangle you. WHY do you not try? How is not trying or giving up cool? Come on. Stop looking at me with that blank expression. One thing you will always succeed in is trying!

I love airports and flying. I always seem to meet the most incredible and inspiring people while in those two places.

I went through a phase last year of sobbing my heart out. Sobbing, like one would for a dead relative. Sobbing like someone had punched a hole in my chest.

Can I please just be ridiculously happy about what I've just accomplished? If I think it was brilliant, and I say so, I'm not being full of it. I'm allowed to feel fantastic after I've done something fantastic.

Oh, you're busy. Oh, you're busy too? Busy right?

Pepsi is just sweeter Coke.

I can play, write, do this so much better, and I absolutely hate it that you've heard or seen a lesser version.

I want to be picked. I'm a strong person and I can ask myself, but for once I'd like someone to go, "Hey Anth, would you do this with me?" Is it so bad to want that?

I wish I'd known you when you were my age.

Oh, my my. Aren't you something to look at. Please notice that I'm staring at you, rush over to me, kiss me passionately, and say, "Where have you been?"

I feel like you are black holes, energy vampires, sucking my life force from me, leaving me with a cold, dark abyss in the center of my chest. I could feel it eating, no, consuming me for some time. I won the battle. 

Oh my gosh! My friend! You have no idea how wonderful it is to connect with you again. I secretly jumped up and down like a Duracell bunny when I heard from you today.

I'm sad for you.

I want a boyfriend. It doesn't make me desperate by saying so.
I do. I want one. I act like I'm indifferent, but really, my inner lover is shouting for someone to notice that I'm not.

I have so much knowledge! I know things. Incredible things. 
Things I've tried to share, but I was persecuted and attacked. 
I want to pour what I know out to the world. Let me.

I want to be a writer. Not a journalist. I just said journalist, because the last time I said writer, that person, like countless others went, "Oh" (Nod)
I'm not saying journalist anymore.

I want to be a writer. Final.

Anthea
P.S I am bestowing the gift of my comment box as a vessel to write your own truths. Do join in with me. 
It's a lot of fun.