Hello. My name is Robyn. The friends I had in High School call me Robs, Roby, or Mamma Robs. The friends I have in College call me Birdy, my friend Jake calls me Danner, and my dad calls me Junior. No one else calls me Junior, because if they do, I will punch them in the face and they know it. The exception to this is an old friend who once upon a time mentored me in the art of stage-managing youth theatre. He worked hard to earn the privilege of calling me Junior though, so don’t get any ideas.
Now that you know who I am, let me fill in other details of my life that I often find fruitless to give out. I am currently 19 years old, I was born and raised in Arizona, I had mediocre grades in high school, I love theatre, I played soccer until I broke my foot, then I kept playing until I had surgery, then I auditioned for a play. I got into that play, that was my freshman year in high school, theatre has been my metaphorical security blanket ever since. I have what people often refer to as issues of concentration, where as I have come to refer to it as issues of getting bored with mundane stupidities. I also am a self proclaimed socially awkward person, with a good ability to determine the character of other people. As I have gotten older I have found that my train of speech more closely follows my train of thought than when I was younger, and that I honestly don’t give a crap about censoring my grammar. It sucks, I know. Either I didn’t pay attention during grammar lessons when I was younger, or the grammar lessons were simply few and far between. I also love ending sentences with prepositions. And starting new ones with the word and.
It often takes me hours to fall asleep at night due to the swirling mist of random thoughts, ideas and stories that filter through my brain. During the day however I tend to make feeble attempts to filter these thoughts into words to be placed on paper. As a general rule of thumb, I don’t finish what I start writing, and I am not very good at it. However, since I was a small child I have found that starting to write out my silly thinks often removes the think from my head making room for the other thinks. How crazy must I seem right now? I am jumping all over the place, breaking several rules of writing and providing little information in return. That is not true. The first two points were true, yes, but the third is not. You see my ramblings provide a sense of what is to come in the following pages (assuming I ever finish them) and an insight into my brain that I am fairly certain many a psychologist will attempt to explain as some weird pathological thing. Anyways, back to my story that doesn’t read like a story.
I have one full sibling, a sister who is two years older than myself, and then a collection of half siblings (four in total to date) who are all much younger than me and not currently old enough to read this, therefore they cannot be offended by my collectively naming them. I grew up primarily with my Fantastic Father, my Strict but Supportive Step-mother, my Sassy Sister, and my (currently) Smaller Sassafras half sister, who seems to have inherited equal parts from my older sister and myself. While this information is meek, scant and generally lacking it is all you will get for now. I hope that you will suffer through this introduction to what I like to think of as “the good part.” The following pages contain everything from stories, poems, songs, plays, doodles, quotes, conversations and thoughts that I have managed to put on paper over the last few years of my short life. They collectively contain an insight into who I am as a person, and how I perceive the world, culture and people around me. Most of what you will find behind this page are half ideas incomplete in their presentation, however I think they are good ideas and my paranoid self is going to warn you right now, if you attempt to steal, use, borrow or modify any of them with out my permission, you will end up regretting it. Remember that part at the beginning where I mentioned punching people in the face? Pointless pause for those who have decided to relocate the afore mentioned passage in paragraph one…. Moving on. I will implement that mentality of mine with lawyers, legal jargon and bad publicity for you. Now that you understand my terms and conditions for allowing you to continue reading please, do continue.
Everything is split up into to categories, such as poems, essays, quotes etc. and each piece is dated, or given an approximation of when I put it down on paper. This should give you an idea of my age at the time. Also, interspersed throughout the works are my random and rambling commentary to help you better understand what I was thinking when I originally wrote it, or what I am thinking now whilst editing it into one collection.
Sections, From my moleskin, From my notebook, essays I faked my way through, and the grade I got, poetry, songs, plays, quotes, extra doodles and “art.”
This post is random, I know. I wrote this over the summer while house sitting. It was dark, and scary and I was alone in someone else's unfamiliar home. For the most part I wrote everything in this passage as it cam into my head, therefore most of it either makes no sense or is completely random. I was reading through it however and most of what I wanted to include in my book I have added to this Blog, or intend to add to this Blog. I copy and pasted this word for word from my notes, with the exception of removing my last name from the second sentence. Because I have pridefully refused to edit this post there are several mistakes and areas that make no sense what so ever. Good. This is how my mind works, embrace it or move on. Part of me is also thinking that I will delete this post at some point over the next few days, so don't be surprised if it disappears. Also, sorry it is so long. I like to ramble. In fact this excerpt came from a document entitled, Ramblings of an Inarticulate Teenager. (I wrote it back when I was still a teenager.)
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