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2003-05-27 Inventory of Being I came across a portfolio of writing we had to make for my english class in grade 10. I've been thinking that maybe I'll post some of the things I wrote then here; to start with, we all had to write an "Inventory of Being", totally about ourselves, in the format of verse. We weren't supposed to put it in any logical order, so bear with me - my mind sort of went in tangents in this piece (as it still does), so here goes: "Amanda: An Inventory of Being I am Amanda * I am sixteen years old. * But I wish I was older. * My hair is brown My eyes are blue. I am short, but I no longer wish to be tall. Sometimes I like myself But other times I don’t. I criticize myself too much And I don’t take criticism very well. * I love both fiction and horror But reading and writing it. My most precious belongings are books, paper and pens. * I want to be a writer; But that’s not all. Maybe a psychologist, or a private investigator; I’m presently contemplating a travel agent. Whatever I choose, It is because I need a stable income… Until I become famous. * I have been christened But truly I am a witch. I am slowly educating myself about this religion, Wicca, But I wish I had a teacher. I, anyhow, believe in the God and the Goddess, And the Three-Fold Law, Among many other aspects of faith which make up this ancient religion. * I have a deep respect for nature; I love to go for long walks among the fauna and flora. I do enjoy the benefits and excitement of the city. But when life becomes too harsh, I long to walk through the trees. * It sometimes takes me a long time to face problems; Of course, it is usually of no fault but my own. When a problem arises that is not ready to be solved, I enter the world of fiction; Either in my writing Or in a book. There, I can escape, And enter the lives of the characters. * I get frustrated when I want to write And no ideas come to mind. I will yell, and scream, and toss things around. * I am not good with deadlines. They create pressure, And when it comes to creativity, I can’t work when I am stressed. * Often I feel trapped, Suffocated. Not by one distinct thing, But by everything. People don’t seem to realize, That I need a place to grow, To become my own person. * I am terrified of death. Not of the afterlife, But of the actual death itself. I hope to die at a very old age, In my sleep. * I also fear the dark. And I cannot sleep with my cupboard door open. I will imagine frightful things creeping and crawling, Out of the closet, And attacking me. * I wish I were more psychic. That I could read the thoughts of others, And cause objects to move, Using solely the powers of my mind. But I suppose I should be grateful, For I know I have been given gifts From the God and the Goddess, That not everyone possesses. I know things before they happen; I sometimes know what someone will say, Before they say it. I can often feel, The presence of spirits. Skeptics will not believe me, But I know these powers exist. * Anne Rice is my idol. She writes as passionately as I hope to write one day, And she lives in the city I wish to live in: New Orleans. Everything I have heard about this city, Just makes me want to live there all the more. In a grand, majestic home On St. Charles Avenue, Or Prytania Street; It doesn’t matter, As long as it is in the Garden District. * I love warm weather: Spring and Summer, But I hate the rain, And humidity when I don’t have access to a pool. And snow is a necessity at Christmas, But I wish it would melt away a few days later. Christmas is my favorite holiday But perhaps that is because it is also my birthday. I love the lights on the Christmas tree, And carols, And jingles, And, of course, Santa Claus. * I wish I had lived so very long ago, In the medieval times, And be called “Lady Amanda; But change Amanda – I hate my name. * I wish to be married, But obviously not now. I want a son and a daughter, Julien and Gwynevere. * I have my own theory about creation. I combine science and spiritualism together. I say the “Big Bang” was possible, But perhaps the creator made those gases collide. * I am eternally nervous. I worry about absolutely everything. And I dream a lot… … maybe too much. I dream all the time, But barely ever act. I find I have to play everything out in my mind Before I can do a thing. I wish I were more spontaneous, But, sadly, I’m not. * I have been hurt a lot. Not physically, but emotionally, Which is the worst pain of all. Maybe that is why I am such a worrier. * I like to stay up late at night, When everyone else is asleep. It’s the only time I can really think. During the day, Talk, noise and interference Clog up my mind. And then, I like to wake up late, Around eleven or noon. I love the magnificent colors of the sunrise, Yet I am not willing to sacrifice my sleep. * I don’t have one specific, favorite type of food. I like pizza, and chocolate, and Veal Parmesan. I can be both casual and fancy, Depending on my mood. I like jeans and t-shirts, And dresses and skirts. * Sometimes I ask myself, “Who am I?” It’s a hard question to answer. I know I am somebody But other elements seem to block out the response. * I love old-fashioned things Like wood and quilts, rocking chairs and quilled pens. * I am sometimes shy, Other times outgoing. I sometimes get confused And other times I understand myself completely. * All in all, I am just a girl With many hopes and dreams. I sometimes contradict myself, But then, maybe that is a stage In fully realizing who I am. * I am Amanda And this is 1996." ******************** There are a few things there that have, obviously changed. That was written when I was 16, and this is 7 years later. But the truly terrifying thing is when I realize how much hasn't changed. And it tends to be the big things.
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