This Story.

I am writing this for a number of reasons.

One reason to suddenly start writing again after nearly a year-long hiatus is for myself. To get my story, the whole story out there. Writing is a form of therapy and I am more than happy to sit down and get my thoughts, dreams and stories out, to heal myself through the written word. Another reason is because this is my passion, and I can no longer allow anyone to try to tear me and my passions apart.

My passions have always been taken away from me. When I was a young singer, I was told my singing sounded like a "dying cat", even though I was invited into Choir's left and right, even though I was ASKED to join Madrigals and A'Capella instead of being invited to try out. When I was a young author I was told that I would never amount to "J.K. Rowling or Anne Rice, and to just give up while I had the chance." When I was beginning my career as a young Pro BMXr I was told that I was "weak and pathetic, and that I would never amount to my competition." The day I crashed and ended my sports career I was in third place against World Class athletes.
I have the talent to do whatever I want to do, and the ambition and passion to do it. I'm done with letting people get in the way of me and my dreams.

Its time for me to start from the beginning, time for me to press the rewind button to figure out where everything went so haywire, time for me to tell this story.

The Story.

All of these lines across my face, tell you the story of who I am

So many stories of where I've been, and how I got to how I am

But these stories don't mean anything, if you've got no one to tell them to

Its true, I was made for you.

I climbed across the mountaintops, Swam all across the ocean blue

I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules, But baby, I broke them all for you

Because even when I was flat broke, you made me feel like a million bucks,

You do, and I was made for you.

You see the smile thats on my mouth, its hiding the words that don't come out

and all of our friends who think that I am blessed, they don't know my head is a mess,

No they don't know who I really am, and they don't know what I've been through

Like you do, and I was made for you.

All of these lines across my face, tell you the story of who I am

So many stories of where I've been, and how I got to how I am

But these stories don't mean anything, if you've got no one to tell them to

Its true, I was made for you.

Its time to tell my story.