Noticing Newbies

I honestly do not know what i'm meant to do on this site.

Sure, I understand what people do here and the purpose of it, but my decision to randomly search for writing sites through Google was just that: random, impromptu, unplanned. I am not trying to belittle my writing capabilities either, but it's never been something I was obsessed with. I would write little short stories about a new prompt, but after 21 pages on Word I would give up. Never in my life have I had much dedication, nor inspiration, to continue doing any form of art for more than a few hours or a week. So for me to be here, or a 'member' of a writing community is puzzling.

So I guess what I meant, by that first line, is that I don't know my own reason for being here when there is a 99% chance I won't return. You see, i'm a melancholic person. The only thing I learned in my college and careers class was that my personality can be summed down to one word that leads to an endless list of others. I'm detailed, moody, pessimistic, factual, discontent, private, organize, analytical, and depressed. All of these things are personality traits of a melancholic person and they all fit me perfectly, yet not well enough. I want things done right or they're a waste of time. I have moments of extreme emotions. My view on the world can be seen as realistic. Our lives are to short to not tell the truth. I always do something wrong. Don't expect a sob story from me, you'll never hear it. There's always a little less stress if everything is in it's place. I've been taught that there is an underlying meaning to everything. That sob story you'll never hear? I live it every day and sometimes it gets the best of me.

I feel like i'm talking (writing?) in figure-eights. No, i don't mean circles. Talking in circles is to do so in a confusing manner, but eventually it is understood. My life is a figure-eight; i am misunderstood, but when someone finally figures me out, they're a little too late. More often than not, i'm gone, already have moved on and useless past memories were forgotten. And that's the problem with my writing. I need it planned. High school teaches you to always have an outline before writing an essay, but then they throw you into the real world with no conclusion let alone a thesis. I have been left unprepared and forced to use any opportunity I have to write a simple poem on a guitarist from a band as my form of outlet.

This may be a little, or a lot, longer than it needed to be but here I am, a realistic teenager who is willing to risk that other 1% on this site to maybe help figure her life out before it's too late.

~The 'newbie' Dory