Reading Through Life.

    Ok, maybe this blog is too crazy and confusing but what else does an aspiring author do? All of my life I've been told that I have a way to write to the soul. I find a way to go to the heart 💗of an issue and uproot it encasing this observation in imagery🖌 and passion. I've been told by everyone who reads my work that I am a good writer, but I just don't know how to break through pleasantries, essays, journals,📓 and poems and get to the stage of corporate, published, and legible. In essence, my greatest desire😍. I write frequently I introduce myself and say that I love to write.🖉 Writing is how I can break through molds ✊and express my understanding of life that I've kept hidden for so long. There are those certain people I tell but that doesn't change anything.

    I'm still a paradox and an anomaly and I can't help but love it.  I love💗 being me so why does the average person I meet treat it like it's a bad thing? Sorry, if this is a pathetic entry, but I still haven't really nailed what people care about reading and don't care about reading. I just know enough to not have you read a ten-page essay. 🗒There's just something special and profound about the written works.📚 I look and observe👀 life around me as one giant story🕮. I can differentiate the story arcs⌒ in ways that people don't even recognize because of past conversations 💬and body language. I can read people like a literal book. I know when things are going wrong👎 (once I hang out with them for a while) and when things are the best they could be👍. People think that I don't see what is happening but it's all so clear and obvious to me. 

    Maybe this is naivete speaking. Maybe I just choose to see it that way. Maybe I care and focus and watch the world 🗺around me so much that I practically have no real personality. Yes, I am a side character, a minor role in life simply meant to bring a smile☺ to people's faces. I don't pretend to be the main inspiration or to have a pivotal role in history. I'm just one of those people who cares (maybe a bit too much in some circumstances.) 

    When you read life like a book, suddenly historical events and people and circumstances aren't appalling. A rigged election? How else are we going to gain complete equality? With such an open opportunity it would be a shame not to! Don't get me wrong, I don't believe that kind of thing is right but I see the elements and codes that make it an inevitable circumstance and I become surprised when people are blatantly shocked😲 about the outcome. Who knows maybe I don't understand people but just pretend to. Maybe I just see patterns of humanity that it just becomes a conclusion in regards to that specific person. All I know is this way of observing👀 and participating has saved me countless of times. So yeah sometimes I come across as an optimistic😃 skeptic or an innocent demented mind🧠 or the ever frequent intelligent dummy but I guess it just all depends on how you choose to see me. 

    I just like to see it as way to keep people guessing. I don't even try to do that or be that way I just am. Once people learn that about me they begin to understand exactly how I work. Because yes, I am loud and boisterous but a quiet observer. I am smart but struggle with math and science, and sure I love the wild and the outdoors🌲 but hate dirt. Call me weird, strange, or odd👽 it doesn't make a difference because in the end, we are all just people living out their parts in the story of life. That homeless lady on the corner can have the same story the rich💎 celebrity has. That balding man at the cafe🍩 can be feeling just as cruel and worthless as the man in prison. That child yelling and screaming in the car🚙 can be having just as bad as a day as the woman in a salon💇 and I guess I just see life like that. 

    I mean, what else are you to do when you read life like a book? Make fun of the weak? Care only for the injured? Ignore the child who can't sit still? Make work the only motive for a living? I cannot. In a way this gift makes every person take on the shape▽ of story and friendship and hurting 😞individuals who love💗 who cry in pain😢 and shout in joy😁 who have a beautiful convoluted and difficult plot. 

    So if people are solely people like me then who am I to judge their stories and personalities?