Dear Blogbabes,
Yesterday I attended an Open Mic Night at my university. All sorts of people--people you wouldn't have imagined to contain even an ounce of creativity in any part of them--performed pieces of poetry than deserved shades of standing ovations and encores (which they did recieve).
I posted about how talent is unrightfully stifled before, on this blog, but I want to tell you how after we left the event, my friends began to argue amongst themselves about how those performers were remarkable and us ourselves are so dull and supposedly "talentless".
I can't even begin to tell you how that made me feel.
Because yes, I <em>choose</em> to be this way.
I <em>choose</em> to be an anonymous writer, I <em>choose</em> to hide my passion. I <em>choose</em> not reveal to the world that there is much more to me than jokes and bitter sarcasm, but I don't think I've ever entertained the thought that others may percieve me as...well...<em>normal</em>.
Because I would rather be anything but normal.
I can't even stand thevthought of being oh-so-typical.
Eitherway, my friends told me to perform in the next open mic night when I so defiantly told them that I did hone a talent, thank you very much.
They would't let the matter rest. They begged to read some of my work - I provided the traditional shrug, mutter of indecipherable words before changing the subject.
Now I'm back to square one where I wish no one knew I wrote.
Because I really can't perform at an open mic.
Don't ask me why.
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