I am a force unto myself. I am an amalgamation of experience. I am Sid Vicious, Shirley Temple, Carl Sagan, Bruce Lee. Jim Morrison and Fred Astaire. I am Chrissy Hynde, Dale Evans and Boudicca. I am Andy Warhol and Helena Bonham Carter in A Room With A View. I am Maggie Smith and Holly Golightley. I am Xena Warrior Princess, Mr. Monk and Mojo Jojo. I am my mother.

My soul is Victorian, Gypsie, Punk Rock and 60’s Mod. It’s Steampunk and Vampire. It’s a little girl with a flower in her outstretched hand, amazed by its beauty and angry that it will die.

I have been loved and cherished. Disliked and envied. Persecuted and ignored. Celebrated and sought after. I have been forgotten and remembered. I’ve been center stage and the wall flower. I have been sick on the floor and the driving force of salvation. I have sat at a desk silently praying not to be called upon by the teacher. I have run through the woods in the rain, shooting arrows like maid Marion. I have howled at the moon. I have stood silent when I wanted to scream, because in Bamby we learned that if you have nothing nice to say, you should say nothing at all. I have said something.

I have lived a thousand times. I have been in a fight. I am a good person. I only judge for the fun of it, not in any real sense. People are who they are, and I’m fine with that. I have hated, been vindictive and spiteful. I have loved and been curious. I have been happy and distraught. I have been so nice it could make you spit. I have never been a racist. I have not been on a crusade. I never killed anyone. I am never rude, unless its part of a joke. I don’t usually speak out in a crowd. I am an observer. I ramble. I contemplate. I go on about my business. I clean when I’m angry because it reminds me of my mother, and her mother. I smile when I’m sad. I storm when I’m upset. I talk to myself when I’m indignant. I am set in my ways.

I am a Willow tree, bending in the wind to survive. I can heal you or swallow you whole. I can do the nicest thing for you. I can not care at all. I will never hurt you on purpose. I miss the presence of people. I am a firm believer in that if I offended you, you needed to be offended. And that audio whiplash is good for your soul.

Do not tell me I need to educate myself. I have. I know how I feel and what I think. If good manners and politeness aren’t enough for you, then suck it up like everyone else. I have the right to be me, just like you do.

I have written my rant and it is glorious. It may seem to have no rhyme or reason, form or target. That is because I give no right to the entity that became the reason I wrote it to take any credit. This is after all, about me, and not you. So there. (Sticks her tongue out)