“Follow your inner moonlight; don’t hide the madness” — Allen Ginsberg

I don’t take credit for the quote today. The title of today’s post is the prompt too. Do you follow Ginsberg’s advice?

I’d like to think that I am starting to. I want to. I think that people that can actually dance to the beat of their own drummer without a care in the world, are some of the most successful people today. Maybe not in terms of wealth, but just in life. They truly enjoy what they do. Everyone should have something like that. Even if you don’t love your job, you should have a hobby or something that you can do that is one hundred percent you.

And so I guess my point is that especially since college, but even that last year or two I was trying to do exactly that. And since living on my own, I’ve become even less apologetic for who I am. That’s my problem. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to live with it. I do. My best friend and I agree; we aren’t social butterflies. We’re social bats. We aren’t pretty flowers. We’re cacti. And we love it. We click. We have three conversations at the same time, over months. It’s the best thing in the world, and I hope that everyone can have something like that.

I am not saying that that means I am rude to everyone, spouting what I think all the time, without apologizing. I’m saying that I like Top Gear, and I like Castle. I love Firefly, and I watch The Vampire Diaries. I like reading. No, I love reading. I hate people taking pictures of their food all the time. Unless there is a very good reason for it, and I mean super special occasion, just eat it. I eat vegetables raw, and I love shopping. I like colors, but I like things to match. I like walking, and roller coasters. I love yoga. But at the same time I want to be a runner too (I’m definitely not yet, I’m working on it…slowly. My lungs don’t seem to agree with me yet.) I will point out if you say something incorrect, not to show off, or to put you down for being dumb, but to point out that you are wrong. If you’re being rude, I’m gonna call you out on that. And that’s only partially because I’m kind of awkward. I like being awkward. But I’m also trying to listen to other people more. I may not like who they are, but that’s fine. I don’t have to. I just want to know what makes others tick (selfishly, so I can use that later in my writing career. Evil smile, followed by manic laughter…optional.)

So I wholeheartedly agree. Don’t hide the madness. We should celebrate uniqueness now more! Creativity comes from the crazy; I firmly believe that. You just don’t always have to be crazy. Let it out at the full moon.


“To free us from the expectations of others, to give us back to ourselves – there lies the great, singular power of self-respect.” – Joan Didion

Tuesday’s prompt was to change the header or background of your blog, but I like the header I have. I don’t really want to start messing with all of that. So I will do the daily prompt instead.

You’re about to enter a room full of strangers, where you will have exactly four minutes to tell a story that would convey who you really are. What’s your story?

What, indeed?

I’m only in my twenties. I’ve just figured out who I am, or I’m close to figuring it out. What makes you think I have a story that perfectly encapsulates me as a whole?

What could you leave out? What are the window dressings of my personality? Am I supposed to be able to know that?

I guess I could try and fit as many of the basics in as possible. But those wouldn’t really explain who I am. Not to people that don’t know me. That would just tell them which stereotype to lay over their version of me.

I am a collections of my experiences, and there is no way to condense all of those down into four minutes. I could pick and choose some. But is that a story? It seems more like a list of facts.

I could tell the story of the time my best friend and I invented the Kindle on the way home from middle school, but she says she doesn’t remember it. I could give you the same polite nonsense story everyone has for those awkward situations that inevitably come up. The ice breaker story; the typical this-is-me-but-nothing-personal-about-me story.

So what exactly is Samara, condensed? Who am I? (The inevitable, inescapable human question – who am I?)

I could tell you what I’m not. I am not your average unique snowflake. I’m not an outdoors-y person. I don’t do bugs. I am not a Samantha, don’t ever call me that. I’m not a fan of bacon. I don’t know a lot of things, but at the same time, I do.

I guess it depends on why I need to tell these strangers exactly who I really am. Is it for an interview, for school, for work? Have they heard of me, do they even speak English? Why should I care what these people think? But here’s my best shot at it. I’ll try to keep it to exactly four minutes.

I am Samara. It’s not that unusual of a name; a woman with the same name once moved onto the same street.

I love the fall, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t in part because all of the bugs die.

Dogs are the best thing in the world, but cats just don’t make sense to me.

I love bookshops, and looking for new things to read, but if the title, cover, and synopsis are just right, I won’t give it a second look.

The end of a book, series, or TV show can be the loneliest thing in the world. It’s not sad, you can easily start the process all over again, but it’ll never be for the first time. You already know the story.

I love coffee and shopping. Shoes are amazing.

Walking is the best form of travel if driving isn’t an option.

I like having background noise when I read or studying. Having to concentrate that much more on blocking something else out really helps you focus.

Trailers are just as enjoyable as the actual movie I went to see.

I love my family and friends. Nothing is better than spending time talking to them.

I can be extremely lazy, or almost manic about working out. But the laziness usually wins.

I judge people on what they wear, even though I know some people just don’t ‘get’ clothing the way I don’t ‘get’ cooking. And also sometimes you just want to be comfortable and who cares what you look like. So I try not to let it cloud my judgment.

I hate when people assume things about me. But I know I’m a hypocrite.

I don’t like sharing personal things with people. So I’ll probably delete that sentence if I read this over before publishing it.

I don’t have a favorite movie, book, color, food (although chocolate isn’t bad), song, or anything else. I have too many.

I empathize with inanimate objects more often than is probably necessary. And I’m too quick to get angry with people. (I like to blame that on being a red head, though if you know me, that was only for about a couple months after I was born.)

I hate being asked if I dye my hair, even though I do, just not to blonde. That’s natural.

I love words.

My brain finds patterns and co-incidences everywhere I look. That’s just how it’s wired.

What’s your story?