I can see you for what you are: human, demon, angel, monster and innocent bystander. Demons always hiding their agendas in the depths of their personalities. Angels, always fighting for the good of others with scars of all sorts determining their trust of humanity.
Monsters always tearing apart anyone who gets in their way in the most inhuman ways possible. Humans always in same way of chaos find themselves caught in between battles. Innocent bystanders those who don't know what war they walked in on.
Get Rid of the Pride, what are you? I will find out sooner or later. Just be honest.

I know not to beg for human decency nor a love that isn't selfish.
Scientist Boy No. 2 may be my friend but he is the reason that I don't trust guys anymore. I should have forgotten him the moment he asked me to be his best friend. I didn't have to make that promise in high school. He always asked too much of me and I asked too little of him. It was a selfish promise on his part and a selfless commitment on my part. Yin and Yang isn't how I would describe the friendship. It's more me trying to tolerate his narcissistic personality disorder and less him allowing me to be myself. I keep friend-zoning him and he keeps begging for my hand in marriage. It's a toxic friendship I know that. I always outsmart him on wits yet he keeps placing guilt traps.
It's a never ending war. He never gives me a break. I shouldn't have to babysit a grown man.

Queer is the old time slang for weird and gay is the old time slang for happy. There is nothing wrong with being weird and happy.
The best people I know are queer and gay.
Gay is still used an insult that straight people use to describe events that they didn't like. Queer is what straight people use as their slang to out a weird, flamboyant person. Straight people are strange they think everything is a competition, everything is a way to insult their spouse by gossip and not communicating to each other their insecurities. I know gay and queer people who will compliment, praise and lift up their spouse and close friends as though it's their first instinct. I love being part of a community that will embrace how flamboyant and bizarre they are. I know I analyzed both sides of the spectrum. I do that when I am bored.

I live to prove people wrong about me. With the skinny jokes. Also the *** jokes I get from my atheist ex-boyfriend. I handle a lot. I hate *** jokes because I understand what they are referencing but I don't get them like normal people do. I think *** jokes are degrading of every female anyone who ever explicitly joke about. It's like can you not degrade people in front of me? I think *** jokes are sexist, desperate pleas for wanting romance. It's awful how gross humans can be. Just because I am beautiful and have confidence doesn't mean my primal instincts are all there. I have mental illnesses and trust issues; therefore, my primal instincts aren't all accessible.
I enjoy being polite, a good human and respecting others. I won't go have a fling because movies say I should. Romeo and Juliet had a fling then they both died. So no I won't do as the rom-coms say I should do. I want to create my own love story. One that is soulful, rich with good memories, sparks flying and the earth fading away.
I know it sounds like an essay about rejecting society's definition of love but I know what I want so yes in a way I am old fashioned.

I love the rush of Adrenaline. To feel as those I am doing something scary yet brave. To look fear in the face and give it the *******.
To feel the blood pumping through your veins at double time.
To feel a weight being lifted off your chest.
Adrenaline is the thrill that I seek because I conquered most of my fears. Why not have something that alerts you from your brain?
Go ahead call me an Adrenaline ******.

Change the story. Find the missing link. Some characters are just spinoffs of a bigger story. Other characters are heroes in disguise.
Tragedies don't make a villain less than human. The same logic goes for heroes because flaws don't make them worthless. Perfection is just a tale we tell ourselves so we can convince ourselves that we are worthless and unlovable. Which is false. Why believe a false tale? Because we eat lies so often that we don't know that we are poisoning ourselves. ***** up the truths you think of. Color the black and white world in a rainbow for all that I care. Normal is bland and boring. Be weird, create own stories. Chances are you have people of all ages thinking for themselves without even trying. If they call you confusing, give a grin and show them a masterpiece.

When I am at war with someone with my wits. I find that most are just princesses begging for attention and are just pawns to their parent's plans. It's boring how easy it is to defeat them because I am a queen because I never needed a prince nor a king. I never defeated them with gossip, I defeated them with words and actions.
Where as they depended on their army, I depended on my intelligence. Those princesses were scared of my insanity.
I always evolved better than before. They were focused on devouring lies and I stuck with the truth. Where as they were cunning, I was caring. See the difference. Life was never about popularity, the status quote nor the power that comes with the crowd. Life have always been about the army you develop yourself, the allies you gave kindness to you in their weakest moments and the heart you forge from the depths of hell. In a way never pretending to be the hero makes you a hero because the cape was always the heart you forge.
The gilded armor always hides a monster that is scared of true intelligence. So scare them good. Make them wish that they never crossed you in the first place.

Strength is evolving until you find the best you there is.
Being strong-willed doesn't just happen.
You can't pay for a strong mentality with money. You have to pay for it with your past and all of your sins in your heart.
You have to pay for a headstrong mind with every dark thought you have and over planned conversation you have ever lived through.
Being gifted don't just happen to people. Being gifted involve being called insane, delusional and weird from time to time.
It isn't an award you get to wear around your neck. It's a heavy price to pay for all those things. I should know because I am stubborn, headstrong and gifted.
I Never Said That Strength is a Treasure. All can say that being strong-willed isn't for the weak at heart.

I saw my old arch nemesis from middle school who bullied me at youth group at the gas station I work at.
I thought all of my rage was gone. I thought I had completely forgiven her completely in my heart.
But no the rage was still there and I hadn't forgotten at all.
I wanted to mentally destroy her as she did to me in middle school but that wouldn't change anything. I wanted to beat her up but I was on the clock so I didn't want to be fired. So I just smiled at her and told her to have a good night. She remembered my name as I remember the flashbacks of the emotional torment she put me through. That heartless, soulless human hope you never forget that Kalie chose to be my best friend instead of yours. I may be a loner and outcast but I am not alone. I never have been alone. Kalie was everything you weren't and Kalie chose me. Kalie may have died when I was 15 and broke my heart but Kalie Reign lives in my memories. I haven't said her name in 3 years it's about time I mention her. I am Brandi the Brave and Kalie Reign is my favorite angel in heaven.

I am divided in two because I loss my best friend at age 15.
Sometimes I am delusional. Sometimes my thoughts make no sense.
Sometimes my words slur in mid-conversation. Sometimes I can't feel anything at all. Sometimes I have no motivation to eat or sleep.
Sometimes the voices in my head aren't my own and I want to scream at them to shut up. I will not romanticize my mental condition.
I am giving a voice to a personal issue of mine. Do that make me insane? No, just aware. Movies make my condition a horror movie or a thriller movie. It is neither something that controls me or makes me a lunatic. Maybe I am just more strong willed than most people with my condition. My mental illness doesn't make me any less human.
I could argue that it makes me more human. Do I sound insane bringing up my symptoms? Maybe I don't know what normal is.

To have mixed emotions all of the time isn't fun. In fact it's ******* exhausting. To have a reason for all mixed emotions combinations is like having a code written on your wrist in permanent ink. It never fades away. It's constant depression mixed with a lot of overthinking.
It's being happy at one moment and sad the next. Or angry one moment and laughing at a meme the next. To say that I am always depressed isn't accurate. In fact that makes me want to punch someone for the devaluing of my other emotions. Yes I am emotional but I have also felt emotionless. Both is its own story. I just choose to live with it.

When life is going well and may I say almost too well. I wonder where is my anxiety? Then BOOM! My anxiety shows up and says, "You called?" in a poised precise sing-songy voice.
There is My Anxiety. Always fidgeting and always creating mountains to climb. It calls out my name into it's endless void.
What are you if not my leash that keeps me chained to this reality?
Do I call you comfort or the depths of being unhinged?
I will never know. Awaken The Beast if you must Anxiety just make sure to hand me my sword on the way out.

Isn't Tuesday just second Monday?
Where did all of my energy go?
Why am I so exhausted? How do people function normally on a Tuesday? If I could ****** a day in a week it would be Tuesday not Monday. Mondays are for beginnings. Tuesdays are just there for show.

I may be alone but I am not lonely.
I have a wonderful army to hangout with me, allies who respect my boundaries and enemies who refuse to challenge me.
I may be alone but I am not lonely.
I write to make sense of my galaxies. I think to make sense of reality. I know to defend myself. I am not lonely. I used to be but I am not anymore. Losing my mind with meds just tells me that I am stronger than what my doctor says I am. I was never weak to begin with. I used to pretend to be meek and stupid. I took off that mask a long time ago. I am undefeated so why do I keep sharpening my wits?
Am I bored? Maybe. Do I care? No.

My heartstrings aren't for anyone to play with.
My mood swings aren't toys for those dare try and control them.
My depression isn't a merry go round.
My anxiety isn't defined by trouble breathing and shaky hands.
I didn't ask for judgements, erasure, being abandoned nor scaring bullies away.
I did ask God for people I can count on, a lover that can be cherished by me and a way out of this religious town. I have people I can count on but I still don't have a lover and a way out of this town.
I may be talented but I still wish for a love worth pursuing.
I am still human.

I hope my life is interesting to all you readers.
I hope my experiences are worth thinking about.
I write these stories about my life because I needed to start somewhere. I couldn't keep them all to myself that sounds selfish of me. Especially to poets and readers like you. As an audience, I love poetically making these speeches. To the people I fell in love with, I hope it gave you my perspective. To the people I called out and roasted, I am not sorry for my rebellious writings.
My past is not up for debate and my future is what I own. My present well I am cherishing every moment of it. The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.

My parents divorced when I was 7 years old.
I Didn't Ask to Grow Up Early. I have always been mature for my age. My mom abused my stunning looks for her benefit in my religious community. I have always hated going to big gatherings. My dad would let me leave early. My mom would never let me bring a book with me to every social gathering. Even though I would always be bored out of my mind. I always felt numb being at huge gatherings. If I found someone I knew I would have fun, if not I would beg my mom for us to leave early. She wouldn't let us leave early. I am an old soul in a young body. I am peculiar so to say.

If you ask most of my closest friends they will say that I am Innocent and Pure. Most of them compliment me and praise me when I am not around. Life of a writer I guess. Helping people, giving representation to the invisible, giving a voice to unspoken people within politics and anonymously revealing the true colors of the seen.
To many I am a hero, to few I am a villain and sometimes I am just the rebel. Again depends on who you ask. I wouldn't say any of this if it wasn't true. Some stories have three perspectives, I know I sound insane but it's true. I never hide how crazy I am because it's useless. Eventually the truth comes spilling out like blood at a crime scene.
I prefer living in the light, emotional scars and all. So yeah I may be mad but I chose to wear my heart on my sleeves.

My mom hates it when I make up stories and create lies. I only do that to survive her wrath. My Imagination was Infinite growing up as a kid. I could never reach perfect but I could reach weird.
I don't know how but I brought out the best in most people even those that popular people feared.

Some of my friends say that I am dramatic. Well not much that I can do there for ya. I enjoy my dramatic flares. It keeps things interesting for me. Some of my friends say that I am crazy. That's true but I will still make genius plans out of thin air. Some of my friends say that I am a ******. Not true because I am in fact a high functioning sociopath with empathetic tendencies. It depends on which friend you ask.  Some are reliable sources. Others not so much. My friends are just as insane as I am just some of them hide it better. Labels are just words that humans create to put misfits into societal boxes.
Dramatic is One Word. Watch out because this dramatic queer got some moves most won't see from a mile away.

I am not all vengeful angel sometimes I am a heartless demon.
I know shocking. Grief changes people. My grief divided me in two.
Losing my best friend at 15 broke my heart. Most of the time I am an angel other times I am a demon. My mind palace keep both sides in equilibrium. Sometimes I can be distant and in my own little world. Other times I can be the embodiment of sunshine. I will defend my family and friends from my dark side as much as I can but sometimes my dark side sneaks out and makes a mess of my life. I know I am describing myself as two different people. But that's what the grief did to me.

I was raised in a religious small town where ***** and fuckboys were shamed at churches and praised at school.
I hung out with the geniuses and political kids. As a writer I had the most fun with the geniuses and political kids. Always a new topic to discuss that weren't people we knew just random, exciting stories we heard on the news. We brought Writer's Club and Marching Band inside jokes to our group of misfit people. Poetry, abuse, life, death and politics shared at one table. We didn't care about popularity nor whose rank was higher just nerds with big dreams. Popular people tried and failed to copy what we nerds had. We nerds with big dreams are still chasing our dreams and making them a reality.
What Kind of Human Are You? If I didn't mention you as a goth kid or agriculture geeks. Let me know. Maybe I just haven't got to that story yet.

To be a vengeful angel the story of you changes a lot telling to telling.
Hero in one story and Villain in the next. Haters and admirers galore.
I am used to the rumors and the gossip about myself. I am a legend and a myth in my small town. Popular girls wish they were half as weird as me and popular boys wish they had dated me.
I may be the sweet, quiet girl in most tales. But in other tales I am the fierce, relentless genius girl who is three steps ahead of the crowd. I will tell you as a reader some of the tales are true but it depends on who you ask. I had several nemesises over the years growing up. I also had several loyal best friends growing up. I had both the bitter and the sweet. I am still human. I am no demigod. I am just a vengeful angel with a sword as sharp as my wits. Safe to say if you cross me you won't forget where you land.

People say, "To forget is a curse" Or something like that. I don't know.
I get bored listening to normal people talk. It's like watching tennis when observing normal people talk to each other. It's all black and white. So boring. Give me the gray areas of conversations and then I will be interested. I love having strange conversations! It's unpredictable, it's fun and you never run out of conversation starters.
Why do people talk in black and white? I don't know.
Why do people care about other people's *** lives? I don't know. Why do people care about salaries? I don't know.
I never understood small talk probably because I have big dreams.

Being weird I have many friends on Facebook. Don't why. People are just like that I guess. I don't understand most humans. Well that's half true. I don't understand most people's habits. That's fully true.
Popularity makes people feel powerful and indestructible when they are really terrified of being themselves and vulnerable to haters.
I guess the normal people hate being called out on their *******.
So ***** them but not literally. I have thick skin figuratively. Not the point but if you are a nerd you understand what I mean.
Popularity is just a construct. Yeah well go **** yourself. You are speaking to a proud nerd here. You weren't the one who tried so hard to be popular. You weren't the one who made corny jokes trying to be cool. You weren't the one constantly planning whole conversations in your head. So I say this politely, go **** yourself.

To be creative is to go beyond the mark expectations. I may be crazy and insane so I embrace my insanity.
Everyone is crazy. Or so I am told. I don't believe that lie for a second. The lie that everyone is weird because it is invalidating to those who got bullied for being outcasts. I should know because I was bullied for a long time. People like giving me a hard time because I am intelligent and don't trust fake people. I don't trust a lot of normal people. Having endless amounts of money doesn't make anyone smart book-wise it makes them spoiled. For a social ladder there is a lot of hypocrites out there. I would rather be hated for telling the truth than loved for telling lies.

You are a sexist *****, a *** obsessed lonely, insecure, fragile egotistical, ignorant, neglectful and friendless boy.
You may be one year older than me but you don't act like it. I am the mature, responsible angel while you are the reckless, self absorbed demon. You may say that I am complicated but I am the only friend you have left to care about you. You have mommy and daddy issues because you think that they don't love you when they are trying to save you from yourself. You try and woo me with half assed marriage proposals. You think that I am a guilty pleasure for you when really I will never sleep with you let alone date you. I am not your therapist anymore and you are a lost cause because there is nothing left to fix you. We lasted a week. A week. You can't ask someone to have kids with you and marry you on day 3. I am not stupid so don't act like I am. I have outsmarted you on wits and defeated you at relentlessness. Your suicide notes broke my heart every time yet you begged to control me. You are a man so stop thinking that you are entitled to my mind palace. There is no room for your drama. There is no room for your mental and emotional abuse. I am broken enough as it is. I can't marry a hopeless narcissist. Your tricks don't work on me. So stop giving a show because I have seen enough.

I am not high class. I don't read erotica or watch ****. Because gross. Why would I ever want to ruin my mind with degrading stuff that sexualize women to the point where it is unrealistic? I respect men and women. Boundaries are there for a reason. I am not hetero. Most lesbians are actually quite good influences to hangout with. My closest friends are bisexual.
Trans people are the most accepting of most people.
I have met too many straights with fake expectations of humans. Humans are messy, weird, inconsiderate, stupid, selfish and talk too much. Normal is just another word for bland.

Popular people want to recruit me to their ranks.
I am best friends with nerds so no thanks.
I rather not bleed my heart out to people who eat my pain like chocolate at a cafe'. Sure they changed hair color but not skin. I am naturally lightly tanned because I don't need bronzor tanning lotion. I have fair pale skin. In the winter you can tell that I don't go outside that often. I don't go to the beach nor pool all that much if I do my swimsuit is modest. I hate the idea of even wearing a bikini. Just because I am skinny doesn't mean I should fit societal norms. And I have heard of all of the skinny jokes there is throughout my lifetime.
Skinny shaming me won't fix your life so try me I dare you. I break barriers of society's walls because it fun proving people wrong. You underestimate me and I make you eat your words. Don't bet against me because you will lose your money. Invest in me emotionally and I will become your part time therapist.

I have never felt normal. I have never been normal.
I am tired of being looked down upon for being insane and for choosing my writing career over something practical.
You try living my life. My mom broke my mind and losing my best friend broke my heart. I am permanently broken, no one can fix me. You can't pray away my troubles. Trust me I have tried many times. You can't pray way my bisexuality. Trust me I have tried that too.
I can't keep up with fashion trends nor popular slang. I can't fit into a society box because I keep breaking the mold people put me in.
In a way it's a blessing but it's also my curse. I have emotional scars in my mind where my normalcy should be. So please never call me normal. It's an insult to my intelligence.

You may never know how much the past ***** you into a void.
One that you can't out run nor drink away.
Who is to say how much you have to survive in order to live?
Who is to say how courageous you have to be in order get through the night? Do God actually count my tears? Does He see my pain and sorrows? His messengers were there for me. His scripture only feed the suspiciousness of the rich and demote the curious.
I have always been curious. In Christianity to ask deep questions is to be chastised by the public or praised by peers. I have never been afraid to be vulnerable. I have been afraid to talk about my mental illnesses and my past. Could I be loved if I reveal those things? I already know that I am insane. I embrace it. It is better to be feared by the public for being crazy than loved for hiding personal issues.

See I got your attention. Hi, don't die today or the next. It's your life not anyone else's. So ***** them. If they hate you for being different.
**** their opinions! You are special, weird, strange, impossible, loved and valued. If they hate you for being talented. **** their point of view! If you ***** with their minds enough they won't mess with you. I know so because I have evolved over the years into a strong, crazy, beautiful, mature, nurturing and loving young woman. The bullying never broke my mind nor heart. It did give me trust issues and doubt in humanity.

Changing roles in society is becoming part of your dreams and welcoming a new reality. I may not be a billionaire nor a rich doctor.
But I am a witty writer with a soulful heart. That's worth something in this fake, bitter, delusional and hypocritical society.
I know what it is like to not know if you are going to live because feeling worthless it is the worst.
People in this society don't know how to have an honest conversation about abuse, sexuality, love and hate. On the surface they are happy but on the inside they miserable. Why live like that? Do my writings make you feel uncomfortable? Good now you are using critical thinking. Use your feelings for something that isn't going to **** your soul.

Count backwards it doesn't work with madness.
Beg the mental meds to work in the dark of night.
Holding out a pocket knife when everyone is sleeping to debate whether to **** yourself or not.
Writing emotional letters to your best friend to make sure they won't break your heart.
Crying at youth group where people are watching you meltdown like butter on a frying pan.
Never knowing how deep the sorrow is in the hole in your chest because religion won't fill it up or get rid of the grief.

Some people act like robots slipping in and out of reality.
Some people live on highs Artificial or Natural. Medicating their pains and sorrows with smoking and drinking.
Trading highs and lows for mentally crashing in pits of despair to drowning dark thoughts in pain meds. How idiotic and how human are we to live with lives like these?
Rich people finding thrills in scandals.
Poor people seeking attention to dull the emptiness of their home lives.
How fearless and bold do you have to be to pour out your heart to a total stranger? Is it desperation or is it wanting comfort?
No one knows.
The mysteries of life and the unknown beckons those who seek vengeful abandon.

I am an Old Soul in a Modern World.
I don't know how code anything manually onto the computer.
I have never fitted into this fake, high tech society.
I am real, empathetic, sensitive, an adaptive genius and an understanding friend.
I am an Old Soul in a Modern World.
I hangout with people of all ages. My big brother wants to switch jobs with me. My gas station job for his pastoring job. Yeah good luck. You may be a social butterfly but the system isn't all talk it's more walk the walk or walk away.

Growing up make believe worlds and narratives were my escape from reality. Movies and books had me by the heart.
I tried my best to ignore my mother's abuse with pretending like her calling me worthless most nights didn't hurt, playing Pokemon to be ****** in a world where I was a hero to all, using my talents to gather a crowd that would care about what I did, being disciplined by other adults at daycare because mom was working and dad letting us travel Illinois.
I hate pretending because I want everything to be realistic. I know surprising coming from a writer. Money have always been a problem with my family. I never got everything I wanted which was probably a good thing. Growing up in a rich Christian small town my family didn't follow trends. I got hand-me-downs from my older sister and I still do. My older siblings were spoiled by our parents while my little sister and I had to be resourceful, intelligent, mature, always two steps ahead of our parents and planning each day accordingly. Being middle class Americans isn't the worst. My atheist friend says that I am spoiled even though no I am not. My older siblings got to go to the colleges of their dreams on scholarships while my little sister and I had to go to a local college. My childhood best friend says that I know everyone in town even though I had to learn to be a social butterfly because of my extroverted family through experience. Social skills are keys to thriving in religious small town where being poor is frowned upon and being rich is expected. I may not be normal but I am weird enough to create my own tribe of trusted friends and allies.

The awakening deliciousness. The caffeine rolling down my throat.
Milky galaxies swirling, cooling down the steaming brown liquid.
Oh how the brown hues call forth my mind to awake.
The brown liquid I take every morning to handle my mother, in the afternoon to handle work and at night to handle my mental triggers.
In a way it's my drug that manages to bring me back to happiness.
To understand humans so well I need the dark brown liquid.
Coffee isn't alcohol. I know that much. I prefer the bittersweet twang of the Coffee or the buzz of the alcohol. For most humans it's the other way around. I don't understand most humans. Hence being a nerdy rebel. I don't need alcohol to survive my mother, work nor my mental triggers. I just need the Coffee to handle all that. Scientifically, Coffee is a mood stabilizer with mood swings it's the perfect drug and it doesn't need an ID to get nor a doctor's approval.

I watched you get undressed. It was a mission trip. You in your bra and *******. I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to take off the rest of the coverings and have my skin next to yours. I wanted everyone to know in some way that you were mine. I would have made myself a fool because two best friends who are Christian girls aren't supposed to do that. But I just stared at your smooth skin as long as I could.
I wanted to take your hand in my hand then proceed to call you babe. But you had to be a straight girl and fall for the guy in the praise band who played guitar. Typical. Just typical. You guys broke up in high school. You guys were my best friends. You two were unstoppable heroes. Now neither of you two talk to each other. Your parents won't even talk to each other. What kind of love was so bad even if it ended mutually that none of you two will talk about it? I know it's a Christian town but what the actual **** is wrong with you two? I may not be straight but I declare you two *******.

William Shakespeare once said, "All of life is a stage and we are all performers." He isn't wrong. Some people act until no one is around. Some people are genuinely who they are. Others fall somewhere in between. I stopped acting straight when I felt accepted by my closest friends. That was 3 years ago. Some say, "Life is a dance."
Therapists sometimes say, "One Step Forwards, Two Steps Back." Is life a stage, a dance floor or a mountain? Because sometimes I can't tell the difference. I can dance well for a person. I can write well. I can give a speech without crying nor freezing up. I can make pizzas, breadsticks and sandwiches effortlessly. I can run like the wind. I can do whatever I set my mind to. Some people would call me a gifted person but I just call myself mentally ill because it's true no matter how you put it. Legends aren't made from privilege, they are forged from dark nights of the soul and countless socially awkward environments. How else are influential people supposed to be made? Because crowds get you nowhere.

Sure I have volunteered a lot in my life. That doesn't make me a hero.
Wanting rights for people who need them as an activist. That doesn't make me a hero.
Writing essays about controversial topics because I am passionate about them. That doesn't make me a hero.
I don't save lives because I am not a police officer, firefighter, doctor nor nurse. I don't wear a cape and the only ability that I have that makes me special is that notice things that most people don't.
I don't tell people the state of America, I am not a reporter yet.
I can't tell people how stupid they are because I am not a politician nor a TV show host.
I am not a hero just a rebel. You can call me an angel, a sweetheart, a vengeful millennial, a crazy writer, a scornful ex, a hopeless romantic and a cute nerd as much as you want I will still be me. I am not perfect because I don't pretend to be that. Perfect is overrated and overused term. I prefer sincere and endearing or dramatic and insane whichever one suits your perspective of me.

I may be white but I am still a bi woman. I am not less than human because I have bipolar disorder, depression, anxiety and a high functioning sociopath. In fact, I am more human than most because the beast inside me doesn't control me anymore. When I embrace my wild side I am more me than ever. Primal instincts aren't bad emotions, that's bottled up rage and aggression which society doesn't accept as societal norms. Rage isn't throwing things and breaking people's prized possessions, that's abuse. Rage is shaking in anger, yelling at people for doing stuff wrong, confronting someone over the smallest things and having guilt for being angry at all. Aggression isn't beating someone into submission, telling someone they are worthless repeatedly, begging someone to do something stupid and pleading for attention, that's emotional abuse. Aggression is channeling your frustrations into heated sentences for someone who don't deserve it, losing it over a parent that won't go to band concerts, wanting to scream over someone who won't validate your existence and causing a situation from nothing. Privilege is nothing more than existing with an easy life.

My heart breaking slowly. I miss you Girl with Grayish-Blue Eyes! I have never stopped loving you. I never stopped falling in love with you. It's been 6 years since I lost you to death. I have grown into a rebellious, fearless bisexual woman. You inspired me with your life and my memories of us. I felt your love for me beyond death. I knew you would fulfill your promise. You have never left my heart because no one can replace what we had. Our effortless, endless, loving, caring, soulful, selfless, once in a lifetime and unforgettable friendship or whatever it was. I think our narrative for our love story went beyond friendship because I have never looked someone the way I had looked at you and my broken heart can prove that. I think you took a piece of my heart when you went to heaven because that part of me is vacant. You had me with your grayish-blue eyes and free spirit because no matter how big you went for my birthday all I really needed was your smile, your laugh, your warm hugs and your voice to fill that part of me. I would have asked you out if you would just stayed alive. Now we will never know. I still have the journal you wrote in. I read it every chance I can. You taught me how to live and I am grateful for you every day of my life. I see why God chose you to die and let me live. You fulfilled your mission early and mine never ends because you saved me in so many ways. I hope I was worth the trouble because I didn't know how to say I love you to anyone until I lost you to death. You brought out The Phantom in me and my wild side is devoted to you.

If you have ever read The Host by Stephanie Meyer then you know it ends with "People are strange" with the reply, "The strangest". I hate the Twilight series but loved the werewolf aspect of it. My mom read the Twilight series and forced me to watch the Twilight series with her growing up. I personally love Cassandra Clare books. That's the difference between my mom and I. I give an in-depth analysis of every book I read so I have my own well read opinions while mom enjoy the fandom high. My mom stopped reading fiction books when her church friends thought they were the devil's work. I still read all types of fiction books. I watched The Mortal Instruments: The City of Bones the movie 10 times before I actually started reading Cassandra Clare books. The show Shadowhunters was a poor adaption of the books. No matter what series you read "People are strange" is going to be the overall take away. The Beautiful Creatures series is great because forbidden love is wonderful to read.

So Girl with Green Eyes. You went to a worship band internship in Ohio. I know who you are but I don't know what you are. I have seen your monster. I have seen your madness.
What are you? Because I don't know anymore.
I know the labels you have put on yourself. But what exactly do you see yourself as? I know you are a good person. But to what degree do good turns to bad? You go as far as the crowd. Why? You have so much potential. Why chase after boys who only notice your outer beauty? I know the extent of your beauty. You are out of their league. Why do you seek love from boys who have to know you in order to love you? Your romantic fantasies are much more surface level than mine. Love isn't a grocery list. Love is selflessly devoting yourself to a person regardless of what and who they are. I can be your bi best friend but I can't be your therapist anymore. You have all these issues but you don't tell anyone. Are you trying to lose your mind? You want all of the glory from a stage when you act even when it's your closest friends around. I won't spill your secrets but please get your head out of your fantasy land you can't live there forever. I may be a rebel but you are still human. Your ex is living his best life. Why aren't you? You know leading is about guiding the crowds not becoming the crowds. Just saying this strict over zealous, narrow minded choir girl isn't the girl I became friends with. You used to be so open minded, accepting, less this, cheerful, willing to do anything for the outcasts and willing to trust the gothic people at youth group. What happened to that girl? I miss that girl. Who hurt you? Who destroyed that girl? I know people change over time but I hate this wall between us. Who asked you to burn that girl away to ashes? Where did you get all this hate for queer people? You wouldn't even let me watch Love, Simon with you because you said it was a gay movie. I mean it is because it's based off of a good book. Representation of the queer isn't degradation for the straight. Who gave you that idea? Because God loves every outcast. Why don't you? Straight America isn't a real thing. Sure straight people are the majority but queer people still have minority rights. I learned that in history class.

Being a nerd you have to get used to being invisible. When someone actually cares about you and see you for you. That's when the invisibly fades and suddenly you aren't invisible anymore.
To think you once thought you were worthless now someone says you are beautiful and not a burden to love.
They leave and suddenly you think something is wrong with you.
Writing symptoms of anxiety and depression in a journal hoping to get rid of the pain of getting emotionally attached to them.
Busy is code word for you aren't a priority to them. Time continuing them fading into the background of life. Suddenly your freckles are cute as they say at youth group. Your chest warms for a little while and everything is back to normal. You are told that you have a strong jawline before homecoming then those green eyes gazed at you and that smile with that one dimple consumes you into a happy reality.
If only I knew popular choir girl ever love and care for you when it's benefits them. Poster girl for Christianity and everyone thinks she is perfect then you are just her supporter for years then the label best friend is branded on you as the public watches you make a fool of yourself for this girl with green eyes. The hubris and the stupidity to ever give unconditional love to a girl who is beloved by crowds. You aren't perfect, girl with green eyes. You are selfless when it benefits you because I am a talented writer while you sing people into your adorable charm. You, girl with green eyes may say you are weird but you fit into this religious small town while I don't and I never have fit in. I hangout with genius while you kiss up to people who only care for you because you are a benefit to their life. You, girl with green eyes heard the rumors about me, why didn't you run when you had the chance? I still care and love you girl with green eyes. Why do you hate cussing and me telling the truth? How much do you hide from the world other than your selfish networking? You hid your cancer diagnosis from me. Afraid that I will spill your secrets? I am not heartless and soulless like most people in this town. I gave you my big secret and you scared me because you rebuked me for being me. Afraid to handle a brutally honest bi girl? Well you should be. I will become famous with my writings while you chase after boys who have wait for you to sing in order to fall for you. You may be beautiful but I know the monster you are. Remember that girl with green eyes. Being narrow-minded gets you nowhere. Take notes about me embracing the outcasts and having my own army. Where was your crowd when you had cancer? I was there for you every chance I got. I proved myself to be your best friend because I thought you were only person in the world who valued me. I was wrong in the best way. There are so many people like me. Mentally ill, weird in a good way, who love books and pop culture references and who enjoy deep conversations about life. I don't hide my politics and I don't have an agenda. Enjoy your strings while you can girl with green eyes because I live without strings attached to me. I am free so why do you choose to live in a cage? Just curious it's the reporter in me. You should meet Coffee Boy now that's somebody who cares about people who enter his coffee shop. I had to sleepover at your house to earn coffee and a personal journal from you. I never told you all of my secrets and I am grateful for that because you wouldn't understand what it is like to be me. I may have a broken heart and a broken mind but I have never been more me in my life. Madness is true freedom. To put it simply, to be broken is find new worlds that people haven't discovered. I find light where the darkness swallows me up. You are too afraid to burn bridges because this town gave you a mask that you didn't even want. You never even made friends with my genius best friends. I granted the best friend title to you because I fell for you. They earned that title. That's the difference between you and them. We nerds are gifted in what we put our minds to and want independence from our parents who spoil our passions with expensive gifts on Christmas. You were given your life on a silver platter and had a silver spoon in your mouth for so long you never thought to get independence from your parents. I know you have a picture perfect Christian family but I still know to some degree some part of you have madness in you. I guess that's what I loved about you, your madness. Please flourish your madness, I beg you girl with green eyes. You have the whole world eating at your palm for your normal story but madness is where an army is made. Stop being invisible girl with green eyes because I only noticed you because you chose me as your best friend. Just imagine what your crowds think of you. Wait you don't analyze every situation like I do so you don't know about being forgotten and abandoned by heroes. I don't buy your normal story for one second because I know you like every poem I write. Predictable, already written and in my journals. I have everything on you and you got nothing on me because I thrive and evolve while you dissolve under pressure. You would be nothing without me and I would still me regardless.

My reality is real in every sense of the word.
Imagine getting your heart torn out brutally and sadness filling up every joyful moment. It's like drowning in an ocean of your own thoughts. My bad and dark thoughts pulled up in a flash of guilt. Everything tangled up and wired at high speeds. Agony and sorrow in my mouth. Anxiety in my chest. Panic in my mind. Depression pushing out every good feeling like janga blocks. Mood swings whooshing all over the place. You think you would ever lose your best friend who gave you galaxies to dream in while giving her a realistic point of view. Anger blowing up anything it can every chance it can.

You walked into youth group like you owned the place with your mother not far behind you. It was the 6th grade. I couldn't stop staring at you. You hung out with the gothic kids in middle school.
I hung out with the nerdy kids in middle school. On my birthday we slept over at your house in town. You chose me to be your best friend. You came from a rich family. I came from a poor family. You were an artist, I was a creative writer.
In the 7th grade you brought new friends who came from rich families to youth group. When they started bullying me, you fought for my honor and starting bringing your gothic friends to youth group. You the creative indie, goth girl and me the creative nerdy girl. We broke societal norms. I never doubted your instincts for one second. You moved away to Bloomington-Normal and you were excited. But you kept coming back for me. On my birthday we went to the Rockin' Lockin'. You brought a crowd and I adored every minute with you.
In the 8th grade you moved back to Ohio, you came back for me. You had your spark in your grayish-blue eyes. Girls wanted to be you and boys wanted to date you. Yet you chose me as your best friend.
In my freshman year of high school, church wasn't the same without you even youth group seemed empty without you. You were my missing piece. You came back before my birthday. You slept over at my place and went to the Rockin' Lockin' together as always. 5 days before my birthday I loss you, my best friend.

I am not just a warrior and a rebel. I am a sister, a best friend, a daughter, a good friend, a mysterious stranger and someone who will accept almost anyone to my army.
To Feel is an honor in a world that is so fake.
To Feel is a privilege in a world that makes fun of madness.
To Feel is a special badge in a world that finds realness so deep that barely anyone can breathe in it.
To Feel is accept the weird and throw spite on the normal.
To Feel is to make new friends a home in your memories.
To Feel is to be loved and valued by best friends.

I have my secrets. My family have their secrets. I don't wear a mask. They do. To live in the shadows is where the madness is.
The all-consuming fire of madness. To be mad you have to be brave. You have to be fearless, stubborn, determined, wanting to prove everyone else wrong about you and be dramatic to the point where it annoys people. To be unforgettable like a scar. To live with good memories and flashbacks. To drink poison and absorb sunlight at the same time. Madness isn't for the weak, meek soulless people. Madness is for people who collect scars like trophies, wear fierceness as though it's a jacket, stories spilling out of journals, endless therapy sessions and looking at the past in eyes to call it your nemesis.
In All Honesty, I am free of my chains, free of my distress, free of my emotional attachments to the past and I am not lonely anymore. I have an army of people I love and care for. I wouldn't trade my life for anything being a middle class American with mental illnesses is worth all of the madness.