A slow start

Well, everyone has to start somewhere, right? This is mine. Dear World, My name is Ashlyn. I’d like to take a moment and apologize for what has the possibility of becoming a rant. I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to keep this as nice as possible, but with a title like “thoughts of mad mind,” you should have guessed this could lead to messy situation. I have trouble putting thoughts into words. I have a decent-sized vocabulary.That comes from reading so much. It is my little sis that is the writer, she pulls words out of nowhere. She amazes me daily with how much of a genius she is-really. Now, for clarification sake, she really is a genius. Hally makes my rocket scientist father look average on occasion. At a ripe old age of 14 (8), she knows more than I do on any given subject. Plus, she does her homework. I have a feeling that may be a large part of my problem. It isn’t that I don’t understand the concept, I just get bored really easily. So easily, in fact, I am quite proud of my sitting down to complete this…blog? Anywho, this is me. For now. I am what could be called a “teenage-angst-cellist-romantic-sheepcollecting-presidentdreaming-lawaspiring-democrat-rebel.” I have a fire within me. I have a problem when people vote on things like equality (one of my heroes, Rachel Maddow said, “Here’s the thing about rights-they’re not actually supposed to be voted on. That’s why they’re called rights”), where people are dehumanized because their first language isn’t “American”, when families are split up because Mommy had the courage to try and provide a better life for her babies. It honestly pisses me off. I get angry just thinking about how assbackwards “the greatest nation in the world” has become. *shakes head* I have a fire within me. Music is my passion, well, one of them. While I’m not very good at it, playing the cello is heaven to me. Partially because I can’t multitask. When I pick up a bow and lay it on the strings, I physically can’t think about anything other than the music. I can’t talk unless I stop again, I can’t worry. I can’t stress. That is a big part of it-being stress free. I worry constantly, and while everyone says there is no reason to, I do it anyways.There is always a knot in my stomach, the feeling like something is wrong, like I could be doing better. Music is an escape. When I play, it is just me and the notes on a staff. For a half hour, for twenty minutes, I lose touch with reality. I have ice too, within. But that is ok as well. A counter to the passion-a calm to the storm. That, my fellow interneter, is harder to describe than I would like, but hey, it is what it is. I have probably bored you, so I’ll come back later with something of actual importance. Day 1- Ashlyn

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