ThatWriterGirl

How many times have said I love to read, or I love to write? Probably too many to count honestly. I was called a "nerd" when I was in school. I loved to do schoolwork. I loved (and still love actually) anything that had to do with reading or writing. It was a treat when I got to do both! I know. With all that being said, I have been writing for a long time. I say that a lot here too, lol. What was my first piece? Well, which first are we talking about exactly? Do you mean my first poem? Perhaps, we are talking about my first short story. Maybe my first published work. I do suppose though, if either of those things are what was meant, it would have been specifically stated, right? So, my first work ever it is! That really takes me back. I started seriously writing in high school. I mostly wrote poetry then. The poems I would write were all based on my life events and situations. Whatever I was going through or feeling in that moment went into a poem. I saved them all. I have a box that I keep them in. I go back to read them from time to time. It is such a stroll down memory lane. Not all the memories are good though. Some of the poems are painful. Some poems are sad, others are angry. I wish I had dated them all. Only some have a date. Since I wrote them though, I immediately know the situation that was occurring during whatever poem I am reading: break-ups, friend fights, drama from school or work. I have come a long way. When I say that, I mean I have come a long way mentally, physically, emotionally and as a writer.

So, I'm sure you have figured out that my first work was a poem. Duh, right. I would have loved to put the actual poem here for you to read, my dearest readers, but unfortunately, I do not have access to it at this moment. I sincerely apologize for this. My poetry box is packed away in a storage unit that is filled to the door. You see, back in January of this year (2023), my children and I were evicted from our townhome. I was late one too many times on the rent. As a result, all of my things, including those poems, are stored away for undetermined amount of time.

Anywho, let us get into the contents of the poem. Even though I do not have the poem in front of me, I still very much remember the title and what the poem is about. The title is "Quiet Insanity". The poem started off as an untitled piece when I first wrote it. I just could not think of anything fitting. My classmate and good friend at the time read it and gave it the title. I loved it. I felt like it was a great fit. I wrote the poem in the ninth grade. The year was 1999. I had had a falling out with a friend. I was questioning if I was to blame. Was it "me"? I have always been the type of person to hold things in. I actually still do this. It is very unhealthy folks. I have never really been much of a talker, and I am extremely introverted. I do remember the first line though: "Stuck in a world made just for me...". I SO wish I could share the poem in its original entirety. I do believe that everything happens for a reason, and that things turn out exactly how they are supposed to. Looks like we will explore the words of my "Quiet Insanity" another time. Until then...