Born to be weird?

I wanted to give you little excerpt from my very first day of writing (four years ago) when I was in 8th grade. If you would, notice the fingerprints of God all over the most ironic lines I wrote.(I’ll be adding comments in parentheses).

4-2-2005

…While my parents were busy in the back yard i went upstairs to my room to hang my new Spongebob poster on my wall. The poster said, “Born to be Weird”. Do you think i’m born to be weird? No, really? Oh, why was i born? is there a purpose? Maybe it’s to write a book? (OH THE IRONY.) Well, that’s what i’m doing now, isn’t it? Plus i don’t think i’m doing very good, i’m a horrible writer. Why would anyone ever read this stuff, i guess. i mean, what else would you call something so incredibly simple written by a very simple girl. there are millions of writers all around the world who would looove to publish their work. i don’t even know why i even care about this so much. i do want to share with other people, even though i don’t know why. What’s the main purpose of this writing that i do? is it to tell people a little more about Russia? Well, nooo.. if this gets to any government officials they might have a worldwide meeting and ban immigration! (At this point I still wasn’t very happy about moving here so I often went on rants.) No.. that reason is definitely out! then what? Maybe.. just maybe.. maybe there’s another reason that i just don’t know yet. Maybe it’s something that’s going to happen in the future.. (OH THE IRONY…AGAIN!) oh, whatever. this is only my second day of writing and i’m already getting into weird subjects!

(There's always a purpose to everything. Keep thinking.)

--E.A.