So here I am, pondering life over my breakfast, which just so happens to be a bowl of cheerios. They've been sitting in milk for a while. The result? Cheerios in which you chew. No crunch, no munch. Just chew and wonder.
Who am I to be? Where to I belong? Do I even CARE how I'm seen?
These words sound like an excerpt from some unknown 90's band. I've always wanted to be part of a band. I'll think about band names when I can't even play and instrument. "Written Testimony" or "Tragic but True." "15 Down Under" and maybe the "Boysenberry Blues."
And sometimes I think I should be a painter. Just travel the world and paint on buildings, roads, and sidewalks. Make people stop, sit and talk. Make people think about the world around us! Not just trivial stuff, like who's dating who or worrying about missing the 8:30 bus. That's the kind of stuff we should discuss.
Perhaps I'll be a poet. I'll document things that are important, stuff you know, but you still don't KNOW it, you know? Like the loud cracks and cricks of an old floor board at your summer house. Or the most wonderful, cutest boy in school is actually no louder than the tiniest mouse. Maybe write a book titled : Singing in the Shower and have be about women who are strong and not afraid have power. To change the world.
But until then, I think I'll just be a girl named Nicole Marie. Who sits on the bus and just looks out the window and mentally records what she sees. And the bane of her existence would be those soggy chewy cheerios still sitting in her bowl.
My pen name's Locketta. I'm still trying to figure out who I am.
<3 Locketta
