You can call me MJ. I am not so arrogant as to believe that any more than a tenth of the people reading this blog will ever visit this page, but for those of you that do, pull up a chair, because I have a nice long story to tell you.
Nah, I’m only joking. I am too simple to have much of a story. Too young. I had a few medical problems a year or so ago, but as I am fine now, I see no reason to delve into any of that. I’m not here for a pity party, or to hear a dozen people tell me how brave I am, or that they are so sorry that had to happen to me.
I am the way I am, and I am blessed to be that way.
I am just a simple eighteen-year-old girl, making it through the last month of her high school career. All the same, few other people would call me simple. I am a walking oxymoron in every sense of the word. A wolf-loving cat person. A smart blonde (only an oxymoron to those who stereotype). A sane writer. A nonrebellious teenager. I change accordingly to the people who are around me, and while I have nothing legitimately close to trust issues, I still scarcely show my true colors. In fact, if I were to wager my life on a guess, I would say that I have only ever been myself around two people. Myself, and that guy to the left on your screen. Yes, the goofy one looking maliciously into the camera while I’m trying to look sweet for prom pictures. Anthony is his name, and yes, I am that silly teenage girl under the impression that she has already found the love of her life. I won’t even deny it. I used to laugh at girls like me, but once again, oxymoron, remember?
I would delve into the story about him as well, but you didn’t come here for stories, now did you? Of course not. You came here to see if this amateur poet had any real background interesting enough for public consumption.
Well I do. But my past is the smallest part of who I am. On the whole, it has not changed me nearly as much as everyone else seems to have wanted it to. As I said, I am who I am. And I am resistant to change. I am just about the most stubborn person in the world, and if I change, it will be by my own prerogative, not because some self-indulgent authority has decided that I am not the picture-perfect girl that they want me to be.
But I’m getting a little off track. The point is, out of all of the poetry blogs on all of the blogosphere, you managed to find yourself here. There isn’t much to learn about the author but through my poetry, that is where you will find my “about me,” unhidden by my lame jokes and mask of evasive words. That’s where you will find any poet, I believe. So pull up a chair, and have a nice time, and while you’re at it, check out some other poetry blogs for me, would you? Spread the love and support. After all, most of us are bloggers just looking for someone to listen, right?