Short Story Collection

Lonely Thoughts

   It's 3 am. I'm watching youtube. I'm feeling creative, but I don't know what to do. It saddens me that I don't have any natural talent. That means I have to ask for help. Which I hate doing. Why can't I just be good at everything I do so I don't have to mess up or talk to people?

  I found this youtuber called Christian Novelli. He says what I want to say and does what I want to do. I don't know if it's actually how he is or just a character, but he's self-conscious and blurts out random thoughts and is sort of odd and I wish I could be like that. Maybe I can.

  I've been thinking a lot about things. I tend to do that late at night. What do people think of me? Why do I look the way I do? Will someone ask me to dance at homecoming? Why am I so hard on myself? These questions aren't good questions. I don't like them, but I can't help thinking them.

  I've gotten to that point in my life again where I want to talk to my friends but I want everyone to leave me alone. This time is hard for me. Because I want to be social and have a life, but when I try to do that, I get exhausted by the human race. Sometimes I like being alone in the middle of the night. It's the only time I feel like myself. It's the only time when no one judges me.

  Except myself.

  I know I shouldn't be so hyper critical of myself. People say it to me enough. I say it to myself enough. But I can't help it. I live in a town full of size small to medium girls that judge everyone around them. Now, now, don't get offended. I know that's not actually true. But it feels like it.

  Is there a term for wanting to be unfathomably creative, but, in actuality, you're just average? Because that'd be me. Don't get your panties in a bunch, I'm not depressed or anything. I'm actually quite a happy person. These are just my thoughts. Nobody really knows about these thoughts. They just hang in the back of my mind, simmering away. Waiting until I have a night like tonight.

  Why am I so paranoid about being judged? I shouldn't say this because they'll think it's weird. I shouldn't dress like that because nobody wears that. Some days I don't care about things like this. But sometimes, especially lately, I can't help but care. Did I offend them? Did that sound rude? Am I too quiet? Am I too loud? Why am I so complicated?

  Then there are my good thoughts; my grateful thoughts. I have a great life. I'm so lucky to have my family. My friends are the best. Remember that time we did that thing and it was so much fun? I can't say those thoughts come as often, but they still come and I'm still grateful. God has blessed me and I couldn't be happier.

  There are also my stupid, girly, whatever thoughts. How will I meet my next boyfriend? Where will I meet him? Will I meet him at all? These thoughts are so superficial and meaningless, but I'm still a girl and I still have them. Will I have a crush anytime soon? Why don't I get crushes like other girls do?

Why am I so different?

  Now, who can forget my creative side? Most of the time I don't even have words for my thoughts. Like I said before, I have the upmost desire to be creative. I'm just not sure I am. But sometimes something will just happen and it's somewhat cool or weird. Like the idea of having monsters under my bed. Only, they're not bad monsters. They're my protectors. And sometimes they'll even steal my socks. That's where the socks always go, you know. The Under Goblins take them. Think of it as payment for their protection services. It's only fair, you know. Besides, how else will they clothe their children?

  Have you ever wondered if the movie Toy Story was real? I have a doll my grandmother gave me before she died on the top of my bookshelf. Would she be one of the people keeping watch and helping my Under Goblins? If so, I'd feel awfully bad, seeing as I basically forgot about her for years.

  This is the most I've written in a long time. It feels good to write again. I've been using the excuse of not having time, but I've just been unmotivated. I think I've been creatively depressed. It's a common thing for me, really. I look around and see how creative the people around me are and how good they are at their trade and I think "Wow, I wish I could do that, but I can't." So I just don't even try. But I think I'll try now. Even if not a lot of people see what I do, at least I can say I tried. Right?

  Its 3:45 now and I'm running out of things to write. But I don't want to stop. Maybe I'll try to write some short film scripts. Or maybe I'll just go back to youtube. I might just turn on Netflix and go to sleep. Who knows.

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Well that was kind of dark. But this really is what my mind is like on nights like this. It's from maybe 8 months ago, but the words are still so true. It's another personal piece, but I just feel like these type of works, to me, are some of my better works.