Without a name
Geplaatst: 09 feb 2010 12:08
1. I believe there's a writer in everyone
So, here I am. A writer.
My name is Anonymous. No, that’s not my real name. But I can hide behind it and that feels good.
I love writing. Yes, I really love, love, love writing. It doesn’t matter where, what or how, you can even make me happy with a normal pen, I just need to write. It’s an addiction which I can’t control.
Okay, before you start asking questions, I’ll tell a couple of things about myself, because I know, as a reader, you need to have an image of the writer.
So I am a writer. A girl.
That’s it. That’s all you need to know. I won’t tell you more, you can ask what you want, you can send me messages, you can send emails, I won’t tell you anything.
You see, because I’m going to write about my daily life, I understand you want to know who I am, what my name is and how I look like, but there’s no need for that. Use your imagination and you’ll know what I will look like. In your head.
Maybe you’ll see me walking one day, but you won’t notice. You won’t recognize me.
Because I’m Anonymous.
Without a name
I can say 1000 words.
Anonymous.
2. The worst part is falling in love.
The worst part of this year, was falling in love. Being in love, falling in love, giving love and receiving love, love is such a weird thing.
And I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. I do not understand love.
It was a few months ago when I fell in love for the first time in my life. I thought I had already been through that part, you know, getting nervous when you’re around him and can’t take your eyes of him. But I found out I didn’t.
You see, a year before that, I ‘fell in love’ with this boy, who really was.. so not my type. Besides that, he was wrong. Really wrong.
And I don’t mean wrong as in doing bad things, but wrong as in.. forbidden. Yes, he was forbidden. Why? He was one of my friends ex boyfriend. That’s why.
So, after that little crush on my friends ex boyfriend I saw a boy and he was.. so different. I mean, in every boy you can see something – negative - that makes him a real boy, you know, acting tough or.. or always hanging out with his friends.
This boy was not like that. The first time I saw him was at school, and he was all alone. But I wasn’t. I was with a couple friends and every time I turned my head I saw him, and surprisingly, he saw me too.
And I’ve got to be honest, I was sneaky. Very sneaky.
I stared at him during breaks. I asked my friends to go outside with me ‘because it was so hot inside’, but he was outside and I had to look at him.
One day, when he was wearing a purple t-shirt, I said to one of my friends ‘look how many boys wear purple’, and we started counting purple t-shirts and staring at purple t-shirts. Well, I stared at one purple t-shirt.
I went to places in the school where I never went to, so I could be alone with my friends, pretending that we were talking about not-so-innocent people who had incredible love lifes and kissed with different people everyday. Well, actually, they were talking and looking to those not-so-innocent people (I should shorten that to nsi ppl), but I wasn’t. I was the one who was pretending. Because he was there. He was not one of them, but he was there.
It took me weeks to contact him. Not because he was unreachable or something, he wasn’t.
But I was scared. Or shy.
That’s one of the worst things of being in love. I was so afraid that he would think that I was weird, or that he wouldn’t like me, but.. he doesn’t. He doesn’t hate me and he doesn’t think that I’m weird, and he’s really nice and.. cute.. and pretty.. and so sweet.
And do you know that tickling feeling in your belly when spring starts, or the sun shines, or when you realize you’re really happy? Maybe the tickles when you bought new shoes or designer clothes? Those are the tickles I get when I talk with him. He makes me happy, with his virtual written words. Crazy, isn’t it?
But I love it. I love love.
Love,
Your Anonymous.
__________________________________________
Vragen, tips, opmerkingen et cetera zijn welkom. Ik moet zeggen, mijn Engels is niet al te best en dit idee ook niet. Er zit veel van mezelf in. Je zou kunnen zeggen, dat het in dat geval beter bij De Persoonlijke Tak past, maar dan is mijn idee weer weg. Want wat is er dan nog anoniem aan?
Ik ga dit niet schrijven vanuit mezelf. Niet helemaal. Denk ik.
So, here I am. A writer.
My name is Anonymous. No, that’s not my real name. But I can hide behind it and that feels good.
I love writing. Yes, I really love, love, love writing. It doesn’t matter where, what or how, you can even make me happy with a normal pen, I just need to write. It’s an addiction which I can’t control.
Okay, before you start asking questions, I’ll tell a couple of things about myself, because I know, as a reader, you need to have an image of the writer.
So I am a writer. A girl.
That’s it. That’s all you need to know. I won’t tell you more, you can ask what you want, you can send me messages, you can send emails, I won’t tell you anything.
You see, because I’m going to write about my daily life, I understand you want to know who I am, what my name is and how I look like, but there’s no need for that. Use your imagination and you’ll know what I will look like. In your head.
Maybe you’ll see me walking one day, but you won’t notice. You won’t recognize me.
Because I’m Anonymous.
Without a name
I can say 1000 words.
Anonymous.
2. The worst part is falling in love.
The worst part of this year, was falling in love. Being in love, falling in love, giving love and receiving love, love is such a weird thing.
And I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. I do not understand love.
It was a few months ago when I fell in love for the first time in my life. I thought I had already been through that part, you know, getting nervous when you’re around him and can’t take your eyes of him. But I found out I didn’t.
You see, a year before that, I ‘fell in love’ with this boy, who really was.. so not my type. Besides that, he was wrong. Really wrong.
And I don’t mean wrong as in doing bad things, but wrong as in.. forbidden. Yes, he was forbidden. Why? He was one of my friends ex boyfriend. That’s why.
So, after that little crush on my friends ex boyfriend I saw a boy and he was.. so different. I mean, in every boy you can see something – negative - that makes him a real boy, you know, acting tough or.. or always hanging out with his friends.
This boy was not like that. The first time I saw him was at school, and he was all alone. But I wasn’t. I was with a couple friends and every time I turned my head I saw him, and surprisingly, he saw me too.
And I’ve got to be honest, I was sneaky. Very sneaky.
I stared at him during breaks. I asked my friends to go outside with me ‘because it was so hot inside’, but he was outside and I had to look at him.
One day, when he was wearing a purple t-shirt, I said to one of my friends ‘look how many boys wear purple’, and we started counting purple t-shirts and staring at purple t-shirts. Well, I stared at one purple t-shirt.
I went to places in the school where I never went to, so I could be alone with my friends, pretending that we were talking about not-so-innocent people who had incredible love lifes and kissed with different people everyday. Well, actually, they were talking and looking to those not-so-innocent people (I should shorten that to nsi ppl), but I wasn’t. I was the one who was pretending. Because he was there. He was not one of them, but he was there.
It took me weeks to contact him. Not because he was unreachable or something, he wasn’t.
But I was scared. Or shy.
That’s one of the worst things of being in love. I was so afraid that he would think that I was weird, or that he wouldn’t like me, but.. he doesn’t. He doesn’t hate me and he doesn’t think that I’m weird, and he’s really nice and.. cute.. and pretty.. and so sweet.
And do you know that tickling feeling in your belly when spring starts, or the sun shines, or when you realize you’re really happy? Maybe the tickles when you bought new shoes or designer clothes? Those are the tickles I get when I talk with him. He makes me happy, with his virtual written words. Crazy, isn’t it?
But I love it. I love love.
Love,
Your Anonymous.
__________________________________________
Vragen, tips, opmerkingen et cetera zijn welkom. Ik moet zeggen, mijn Engels is niet al te best en dit idee ook niet. Er zit veel van mezelf in. Je zou kunnen zeggen, dat het in dat geval beter bij De Persoonlijke Tak past, maar dan is mijn idee weer weg. Want wat is er dan nog anoniem aan?
Ik ga dit niet schrijven vanuit mezelf. Niet helemaal. Denk ik.