Friday, August 23, 2013

Hello world. My name is Mrs X, and I am currently working on a new book. Im really excited but I would love to get some feed back from the people. After all, YOU are my audience :) I wouldnt even mind hearing some of your stories from life. Feel free to give me the good, the BAD, and certainly the UGLY!!
 Lets Goooo......

Here's a little taste of whats in store, and the more feedback I get, the more you will get, and for you Copycatters, I aint mad at ya, but I am legit "legalized" or copyrighted. Whateverrrr... So be fair, it's all love here..


I always felt like I was outside looking in. Staring into a window of a life that was not my own. Making bad decisions for a person that was not me. Hoping that one day they would feel it and change. On their own accord of course. Generally speaking. Politically even. Everyone has the absolute right to make their own choices. That’s freedom. That freedom turning into shackles if you’re not smart; my battle is: How to obtain freedom with the weight of the world on my shoulders, and everyone telling me and showing me that my life is my own. To touch on, teach one and hope that chain of events doesn’t end with the words simple coming out of your mouth.
I grew up in a small town. No sidewalks. Trees, dirt and people with small town problems. I grew up in a house with more diverse blood than a blood bank, dreams bigger than the house we laid our heads in, and ghosts of dreams never conquered. Could you imagine the conflicts of heart? I cant remember the last time my mother hugged me. This is not a reason for my misinterpretation of life, and I say misinterpretation because no one can convince me that the problems of the world is not my own. Those who say otherwise are weak and will probably never make the connection between SELF knowledge and understanding in connection to the way the world works. On some degree, I do not understand this myself, well on most degrees possible. I say that I cannot remember the last time my mother hugged me because this is the truth. It bothers me. I am now a mother myself and I wonder if this fact is linked to my emotional issues. Is this a psychiatrists answer? Where did I get this conclusion from, I mean really. How far can common sense take you before you have to figure something else out? I’m getting off track as I normally do. I grew up in a small town where the Sherriffs daughter was the most popular girl in school and the towns’ people shunned outsiders. Seriously, the first question you will hear to this day is “Who your kin folk? What’s they last name?” House parties, alcohol, dirt bikes and fourwheeleers, and being current girlfriend or boyfriend of your “best” friends ex was the culture. Specific lunch tables, in a school of only a few hundred. Daily substitute teachers and dreams of a bigger city. Long nights of slow jams from the 90’s and Hot 106 at Night. Thousands of books. Broken hearts. At home Movie Nights. Skinned knees and hard feet from running barefoot on rocks. Sunday School. Church. After Church and more church. That was life for me.
I remember a time when I couldn’t talk to boys on the phone and I would cut my mother and fathers bedroom ringer off so that they didn’t answer the phone when they would call. John Legend made me love my first love longer than I ever should have. I was a rebel, and am reaping the consequences of it now. I found another town similar to mines and when I first learned to drive at the hands of a drunken possessive ex, I never left. Did my dirt, and did some more plus things I’ll never say. Took me a while to actually leave that town. But I did. Today I did. Tomorrow I will.

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