{strawberry fields forever.}

          I write this blog because it makes me happy. I can create, and share the contents that fill my soul. The photographs I take and the quotes that whisper to me, and the sketches and poems that pretty much speak the words I’m too scared to or don’t know how to.
          I hate it when people misunderstand me. It absolutely tears me to pieces. I work so hard on the things I create and then people just throw them aside and make an excuse for why I’m wrong. Those writings and photos and sketches, and even the clothes I wear, are the only way I know how to contact a world that seems to want nothing to do with me. That ignores me and writes me off as weird and artistic. It’s the last way I know how to truly communicate what I feel, what I love, what I hate, my opinions, and my views.
          I do not want to be psychoanalyzed, irrationally hated, and despised for every movement I make, heart I post, and signature on my sketches. I do them for me, and no one else. So I feel extremely violated that people could read into it so much to the extent that they think I do all of this because of them. It’s weird to think that people think they’re that important in my life when in reality, I hardly even know them. And it destroys me that they could believe that I am the way I am because of them. This could not be further from the truth. I want my work to be interpreted as a reflection of me, not of someone who I would supposedly aspire to. You have no idea how much this hurts me.
          I get my inspiration from nature, the earth, God, professional artists and photographers I admire, Edger Allen Poe, little kids, sunlight, summertime, simplicity, all past decades…hardly ever from anyone I know personally; never if I do not know them that well in the first place. In the cases where that is so it is usually one set of photographs or one sketch or poem that I have created to honor them or because they have asked me to. My whole basis of creation is not set upon on one person. Not at all. Including the clothes I wear. My inspiration for that is usually a mixture of fashion bloggers, music, bands I enjoy, past trends, and things I just simply find fun.
          I have figured something out during the course of my life; that I have a great impact over the control of my happiness. If I recognize something or someone is causing me hurt I can try to delete if from my life. It’s like a little baptism of sorts. That’s what this is. Why would I read something or hang around someone who causes me so much pain I’m fuming? If I can spare myself that then what is leaving a group of people where someone who undermines my self confidence is? Or what is deleting someone on Facebook who reminds me of things I don’t want to think about? If I can spare it why not do things that will make me happy and move on through things that don’t, even when it’s hard to, and it always is. My life is so incredibly easy when I live it with eyes closed. But I would much rather see. How do I ever expect to see if I am knowingly blinding myself with things I know are hurting me?
          This doesn’t mean that in return I must be cynical and passive aggressive to the person or about the thing. That would be silly. It would defeat the purpose. I will kindly and cordially find more uplifting and fulfilling things to do. I will not waste my time on those emotions and I will not let them control me.
          I have also learned that I cannot control other people. Only myself. I can’t make someone be happy, or solve their problems or worry about what they’re thinking. I can only help or impact them if they let me. And they won’t always. But I can focus on my life and my happiness.
          The road that has gotten me to where I am has been long, and indescribable. But it has gotten me to where I am. It is my path designed for what I need to learn in this life. I am not following along behind someone on their road because I want to be like them. Likenesses would be purely coincidental. I cannot help if I am similar to someone. Changing because I am would be dishonest and unfair to myself.
          Who I am, what I am, and what I have become has been between me and God. And I am proud to have triumphed. You cannot comprehend the tremendous personal feats I have gotten through. With God’s help {I cannot take all of the credit, or even most of the credit. I would literally wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Him reminding me that He loves me no matter what.} It’s like I forget how severe everything truly was by telling myself I was over reacting at the time. I wasn’t. It’s almost like it never even happened, but yet it’s still so fresh to reread those times in my life I can still taste what every single emotion felt like piling me down. I am proud I destroyed it. I want to be able to use the light I found out of that darkness to dispel others’ darkness. The darknesses still haunt me, though. So when the protection I have built for myself is destroyed by ignorant people it completely and utterly destroys me in turn. The only benefit I know that I can offer to people from my experiences is through what I create. It’s selfish for people to feel entitled to my successes by accusing me of unoriginality. I have worked so hard for those, yet people believe they can tiptoe in and claim them without the slightest damage to me. That is naivety at its epitome.
          I do not know how else to get my point across, or feel as though I can help or improve the situation other than writing this. I am at a bit of a loss, and I don’t know what else I can do about it. So I will shun the unhappiness from my life and move through it. I hope that this will show my side of the situation and stop the behaviors which I am referring to. I really am sorry that there is any need for this post. 



♥