Ordinarily extra

Sat, 10/03/2015 - 17:41 -- ab2000

Some people have told me I am extraordinary. I've never liked that word. Its even besides the fact that I don't have much self confidence, and that word has a positive connotation, but it's just the word itself. As a child I loved compound words. I loved words in general, but the first time I saw that word was on an story that I had written in the 3rd grade. Initially, I got scared being the little perfect goody two shoes, because I thought the word was something bad. I broke down the word in my mind and made it into extra ordinary. And I can never see it differently. That word to me, extraordinary, will always mean, more normal. Bland. Eh, okay. Seen it before. Nothing new here. More and more as I developed as a writer I heard that god awful word every so often and I hate that I can hate a word when every single one of them is a work of art. Even things like floccinaucinihilipilification. (It's a mouthful, I know). But as a person, my alter ego and stand still twin of my inner semi developed author, I've always had a conflicted mind. With anxious thoughts that cause me to believe all the negativity about myself and put blind faith into humanity as if I were the only one who can do wrong, this word for a while worked its way into my mind, and it's negative demeanor encased me like a straight jacket. I couldn't write. I hated that that word was a part of me. I can not use that word now, but eventually I pulled a Houdini. I began to surround myself around people who inserted positivity into that word. And after a half a decade of conflict on whether I'm really extraordinary or not, whilst only being a decade and a half old, I've come to a conclusion. 

Maybe I'm not extraordinary.

Maybe I won't be this now.

But maybe, just maybe,

]one day I'll be ordinary with a little bit extra. 

This poem is about: 
Me

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