Finding a more creative me.

There are a few blogs I read and I have to admit, I don't always read them for the context, I read a few of them for their writing style and fluent grace.
With that being said, some of those blogs who I did not start off reading for enjoyment, have indeed blessed me with some great words, challenge my thoughts, inspire me to be more creative in more than just my writing, which we all know needs something at times.

When I was younger, I was always told by friends and some siblings that I was "strange, or weird, maybe even odd" for the way my brain worked at times, whether it was the writings that would spew from my mind of chaos at the time or something to do with combining dance/gymnastics. (at the time the two were rarely messed together). For as long as I can remember, I've been journaling, by paper, by typewriter, and now of course, computer.
I believe when we were younger people called the "diaries". I've never called it that, cos it was never about if a boy liked me, and my entries never started off with "Dear Diary" etc. It's always been a source of venting, and somewhat creative.

I remember on two separate occasions;
1) turning in a personal journal entry as a paper in Gr 6 and won an award for most creative writing skills for my age.

2) Gr12 English, we were told to draw a piece of paper from a hat, and whatever the word was, that had to be the topic of our essay. There was probably a word cap, I do not remember.

I pulled the word "risk" and was to write about what I thought the word "risk" meant.
I sat there for an hour, becoming increasingly annoyed as the teacher would walk by our desks and tap on mine, whispering, "write something Samantha or you're going to fail"... dirty looks spewing at him every time he looked at me. What that teacher didn't know, was, I was done my essay the second I drew the topic. The paper was handed in at the end of the class, only with the title at the top, and my signature at the bottom.

A week later I was called into the principles office, to explain my shitty attitude to my teacher (his words- and at his request of course) I've never had an issue telling my authorities where to go or standing up for myself, cos I'm not one to be bullied. Not then, Not now.
Walking in, I was shocked to see half the staffing facility sitting there waiting for me.
For the first time, I was scared, not only for my grade.

A few looked impressed & glad to see me, that teacher, ugh. asshole. looking smug.
They sat me down and started talking. I don't remember what was said cos I was tuning out the "blah blah blah" for the most part until I heard the principle say, he and the facility took a vote and agreed, I was graded unfairly. They were over turning the grade the English teacher wanted to give me. As it turned out, all the staffing facility BUT the English teacher understood the paper I handed in.

"Risk" by definition to me, was handing the paper in blank. I got my first "A" in English.

I haven't felt that kind of creativity in my writing for a very long time. Granted, I'm using this blog to write about daily life etc, and do have another private blog that was powered by angst, heat of the moment feelings, extremely uncensored. That was some of my best work. You could feel the emotion in most of it, however I did not like the place a lot of came from.
I used that blog as a way to manage my sanity from losing my parents and life changing over all.
Not to mention the unconditional support I received from strangers who've become online friends. They've read the most uncensored, off kilter things coming from my brain and still talk to me. Those are great people. Its just a shame they all live on other continents. Thank Gawd for msn, skype, and web cams. We've grown together, become friends, invites to weddings, sharing family and new additions to the family via cams, its been a very surreal journey.

Now I'm on a different one, one for the stability of my future, my life, health, and over all growing into a better person. (constantly building character I didn't know I needed)
before my parents passed, I always felt I was on a different creative level than most of the people I hung out with. I was either smarter in ways, or just different. I've never really been one to beat to the drum society has said we should follow. Life changes. Siblings, parents, grandparents, children, friends, all die. That sounds harsh, I know. But when someone close to you dies, it has the ability to rock you to the core and change your very being. (and for those who do not know, it does NOT get easier with time, it gets different.)

With that said, since the passing of loved ones in my life, I changed. I just went along with the drum beat laid out before me, cos well, it was easier than following my own beat. For awhile.
Its been 11 years, and my friends have changed, views on the world, my own wants. I've learned things about myself I did not like, I learn things about my friends at the time that I no longer respected. My writing changed. It seems almost forced and edited for the most part.
I'm no longer writing from a darker place, cos I don't have too. But I've lost my style.

I've been reading those blogs, stealing styles etc, and hoping that eventually, it would naturally develop into something more... me. Shows my personality, what creativity I have left.

So please forgive the follow year of entries and cluster of different styles as I move forward and try to retap into what once drove me, and that I will once again hear that drum beat that is unique to me.