Writing What Is Me

I Am Lisa More.

Procrastination. We all do it at some point or another. Some more than others but either way it is a killer. Killer of time, of production, of quality just to name a few. Sitting here, I reflect back on my younger days when procrastination was not even in my vocabulary. I literally was so focused I got everything done. I did pretty well in school to the point of getting anything less than an A made me cry. (I’ve always sucked at math. blah!) Singing was my life so I sang and practiced everyday. My friends and I even created a girl group that of course went no where but we were just kids anyway. I always wondered why I never hung out with a lot of people as a child and it was because I was so focused on doing well in school that all that other stuff did not matter. I would rather sing, get lost in music, or read a book than enjoy the company of people some times. I’m still that way for the most part but then I moved away from Alabama and everything I had ever known. The pace of the South is so different than the Midwest, I had no idea how to handle it. I cried so much my freshman year of high school because I missed everything about Alabama and Ohioans have a tendency to be extremely rude.

My freshman year, I was focused but then that summer before heading off to the high school changed everything about me. The rest of my high school years did not see the best  grades or best effort from me. I had a lot on my plate from debate to track to trying to find time to hang out with friends and be a normal high school student. I got a little boy crazy, in which, I guess, I’ve always been that way. I let myself turn into someone I never thought I would be, a struggle artist. It was a struggle to get anything done and I always had an excuse for something, still do it to this day. (And unfortunately all throughout my college career.) I realize it and acknowledge it but can’t stop it. Can’t is not the proper word, more like won’t. The days where there is way too much to get done but every part of me says naw, there is always another day, another hour to get it done. This is the reason why I fail. I am a failure because I allow myself to be. Can I change this about myself, of course but will I? Can I let go of saying in one minute I’ll get out of bed so I won’t be late for work? Can I stop saying I’m not in the mood to write when I have so much to say? Can I stop feeling like my words mean nothing, when they mean something to me if no one else? Yes. Yes. And yes.

I always get so jealous of those people who have known since they were little what they loved doing and went after it. I’ve always been afraid of what I can do. I don’t have the  potential to be great, I am great. And I know what it is that I am destined to do. I’ve always known since I was a child. I was always a creator. I had mad imaginary friends and wrote everyday. I got lost in music and loved. These have been constants in my life and yet I question what I’m meant to do? How could I not see what I’ve been searching for all of this time? I’ve listened to too many of the people around me about how I will never accomplish anything. That doubt is real in my mind and that little doubt will make me fail every time. The time for doubting and procrastination is through. I’ve met people who I will never forget but they will forget me as soon as I leave the room. This has been my plight since I was a child. A forgettable face with a forgettable voice. This voice will no longer be forgettable even if you never know who I am.

A long road is ahead but I will take it one step at a time. Someone asked,”how would you like to be remembered?” And honestly if people had to remember me as I am now, I would be ashamed. Am I bad person? No, but I can do better and be better. That is always the goal, do better to be better. My favorite thing to tell anyone is, “Forget all that scary stuff and just do it.” It is as simple as that.


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