the lonely shepherd (of_bad_faith) wrote,
the lonely shepherd

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i want you to know me the way i know myself (part I)

She doesn't really look fourteen.

She has dark red dyed hair, pale skin, and eyes that look brown but are really if you look close enough, hazel, because sometimes they're green. She's talkative, maybe a little nervous. You don't know her and she doesn't know you, so it makes for slightly awkward conversation. She'll try to see if you have common interests, if you'd really be at her level or above. According to the "No Child Left Behind" Act, every child is on the same page, but if you're not on hers, you'll both see it soon and a friendship between you probably won't grow into anything that special.

Everything she wears is from the same store, Express, and all she reads these days are random intellectual books from Barnes & Noble that are generally really out there. Maybe she wants it to be easy for you to box her in, to affix a label she can't shake off to her, but no matter how good your label is, it will never fit her because people have more than two sides, and she looks different every way you look at her.

Hello. My name is Kathleen. I'd give you my last name, but this is the Internet, so it'd be awfully stupid of me to give out such personally identifying information about me in light of the recent 'Net scandal in my town. I like to pretend I'm smart, so I don't feel like ending your illusions of me. If they portray me in a positive light, by all means, keep them and stop reading this now.

By now I'm sure you've realized that I want to make this personal and this is really your last chance to get out unless you want to know the inner workings of a troubled mind.

If you're reading this, you're still here and I guess that means you are interested. Which kinda sucks, because I don't know if I can really do this, lay myself naked on a table for the world to see. I want to believe I can though, so bear with me as I try to show you me and all of me. I'm not sure how possible that is, but...

I'm a spoiled brat. I kind of wince while admitting that because really I don't think it's the truth. It's a hard truth to hide from though, when your parents randomly redo the basement for you to the tune of $25,000 and it's even harder to say without bragging. I'm not, though, because it's not something you *want* to say about yourself. I don't really want to say "hi I'm kathleen & by the way I'm a spoiled brat, just so you know" but I guess it is something you're better off knowing in order to understand me.

I'm smart. I don't know how much of an under/overstatement that is, seeing as I can hardly look at myself objectively. I prefer doing the least amount of work I need to do and procrastination is my motto. This is, naturally, excluding the rather obvious exception of my BCA fixation. I need to get into that school. I want to go to school with those people.

I'm not on the same level as my current "peers". The term is in quotes because I don't think most of us really are peers, as we're on completely different pages. Some haven't even gotten quite past the dedication page yet. I feel like I'm in a world apart sometimes, and I know this can't be true because I do have people like theatrically, another exception in a civilization of idiots. We live in one of the richest fucking zip codes in the US and my "peers" try to look "gangsta" while wearing $50+ shirts. It's really sad to watch. They have no ambition, are completely shifted, and will probably end up flipping burgers at Burger King. It's what they deserve, really, but it's hard to admit that because I know I could be some of these people if I wasn't so ambitious, if I didn't care about myself, if I didn't want to be a *star* someday. I do. I do want to succeed. That's part of what sets me apart, I suppose, other than the intelligence to succeed, or so I love to think I have but it's questionable really, depending, I would suppose, on your definition of intelligence. Or even your definition of success because nothing is successful to everyone because it is impossible to satisfy the desires of everyone in the world while still satisfying yourself.

I've been told I should model by my ex-model neighbor. I find it hard to think of myself as beautiful except for sometimes when I look just how I want myself too, not a common occurance. I'd love to post pictures of myself so you can decide, but I don't have a digital camera. I wish I could have more self confidence in that area because maybe if I thought I was gorgeous I would be gorgeous. Oh, I don't know sometimes. I'm just so painfully insecure while wanting to be something special. I want to have my own star in Hollywood someday. I want to be the CEO of my own company. I want to be President of the United States. I want to be a member of a Gay Straight Alliance club. I want to be me. I want to be someone individual, unique. Someone timeless. Someone unforgettable.

And I don't think I can ever do that.

This is just part I and I might continue this if I feel the need to put myself on a computer screen without pictures again. This is public because I don't see why people considering friending me shouldn't read this. I don't want them to think I'm someone I'm not. This is, I hope, an accurate representation of who I am. Maybe when I read this over at a time other than midnight on a school night I'll be able to say for sure.

Good night. Bonne nuit. Buenos noches. Etcetera.

Remember: I think, therefore I am. I learned that in math class, suprisingly. I think it was Descartes or someone. I don't remember exactly who said that. It's quite true though.
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