1000 Ways to Say "Nobody Understands Me": An Introduction

“Now, you are going to run down to the basement and get on your computer and write 'Nobody understands me' a thousand ways. . .”

By now, I start tuning her out. My sister is correct, though. That is what I want to do. This forum, this spot of Internet babble, will always be there to listen to my side of the story. It will always be there to understand me and listen. I do not have to worry about if it will call to just say “Hello!” or not. It is a friend like no other. These are my, mostly, letters to Jesus.

The funny part is, I can not stand writing. English was my least favorite subject in school. I always thought I was not very good at expressing my feelings period. Writing just seemed “girlish” to me. Now, I did love to paint and draw. Strangely, that seemed more masculine. My middle and high school days found me expressing myself through art, a lot. I am not sure if it was the fact paint and canvas cost so much more than pen and paper, but I started writing. I was “green” about it, saving a few trees and do it electronically.

This Friday finds me doing what I used to do so much more often just a couple years ago, replacing a “date night” with a jot on the ol' blog. I did not need reservations or movie tickets tonight. Just a cold glass of milk, t-shirt and shorts, my trusty chair, and these ever older fingers doing the walking around Qwerty-land. These adventures were mostly sad tales of “woe-is-me.” I asked what do I, should I or could I do better and/or different. I self examined myself. I over analyzed my flaws. And, when it was all said and done, I ended up looking like a big pussy.

Sit back and hang on. My life is an open book. What do I have to be ashamed of? I have done some jacked-up stuff plenty of time. But, I would not know what I do now if I had not. I grow and learn from these misfortunes, blessing in disguise, if you will.