#notablogger

God save the Queen. Self-portrait of Leslee Mitchell (by Leslee Mitchell).

Monday kit . #menswear #notgoingtopittiuomo #orazioluciano #egcappelli #drakes #drakeslondon #kamakurashirts #ocbd #napoli #fattoamano #sartorial #notablogger #nofashionista #idontmakethisforliving

New in. #alden #aldenshoes #aldenarmy #shoeporn #sales #top #unlineddover #nofashionista #noblogger #madeinusa #notablogger

NG

Don’t worry too much🙏🏼🙏🏼💫 📸 @betox288 . . . . #quotes #photooftheday #notablogger #life #changesarecoming #tumblr #photography #mountains #notprofessional #canon (at Santiago de Veraguas) https://www.instagram.com/aleariellee/p/BxbFr4LBQxe/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1rds4qysathzj

all those who are lost are welcome. I guess im an oddity in itself, nothing special. I have no notable talents. I cant sing, play music, make art or anything that would make me stand out. I am just existence. I like to think i can write but when i read other peoples work who claim to just do it for fun, i come up short yet again. I have never found the thing that i can really excel at, something that makes me stand apart from the crowd. Thats what has been holding me back all these years. My husband will say the same but i am in awe of how ingenuitive be can be. He is handy, smart, a great problem solver, his poetry can make you weep (the ones he wrote in his high school days lol), so many great qualities that i admire. Im sure there are things he admires about me because he wouldnt have married me if not, but i dont see them. I am passionate about my kid, but i get told im a helicopter mom, when im all im trying to do is figure shit out on my own without constantly being ridiculed that im doing it wrong. And possibly because i felt that my childhood wasnt the best so i try to take the mistakes i thought my parents made and not repeat history. whatever. Even before the “All i am is a mom” stage i am in now, i just never really belonged anywhere.I tried to hard to fit in as a kid that i never took the time to find my individuality. I was always tinkering with short stories and mom would shudder at the adult type of situations i would create in my head. Maybe i could be good at that. She gave me the old 95 family computer to have in my room that had no internet just paint and word pretty much, (sometimes i would play doom, only in GodMode though).  I would write these 5 to 6 page stories on just anything that popped into my head. I would proudly print them out and make my mom or sisters or even my sisters friend read them and hope i could inspire some emotion out of them, sometimes i would. I read a lot in my early teen years. A lot of Nora Roberts and Nicholas sparks novels. It would inspire me to make a story but it seemed to always fall flat, as if i just took the plot from one of the books and twisted it into my own story. I mean isnt that what most novels are anyways, a certain type of drama or mystery. Im not even sure. The school told me all i needed to know, when i thought i was a good writer, I would get shut down with a slight above average grade. a B plus person for life. In college in excelled in English and got an A on every paper but to me its like ive been writing like this all my life, I went to State competition for history fair, just to get shut down once again. I have to admit though, it wasnt my best work and i knew it. Its almost like im the one holding myself back. afraid of a risk because every risk ive taken has kinda backfired, not all but the majority. Probably the best risk was going on a date with Justin when i knew no one else would get it, but there was something about him, like a force pulling me towards him that i couldnt ignore. It wasnt the firey passionate “i have to be with you every moment of my life” feeling like i felt with my ex even though i really dont like to admit it now. It just fit, like a puzzle piece that was missing, i feel whole. I tend to wander, if you havent noticed already, its hard to keep a train of thought when youve been struck with a need to just keep tying and in a sense word vomit till i feel relief. This is my me time. A time i couldnt really give a shit what anyone thinks or feels, its just me and a keyboard. Thank you Mom for my new laptop. its graceful typing, even though i have to get used to typing again. So much backspace used.... and i laugh at myself. The whiskey is helping. Lets wander agian since im thinking about exes. Justin and i always laugh at our exes, some were good, some were bad, some left a stain on our hearts that can never be wiped off. I think of my exes often, like a mental check in once in a while. They shaped me to who i was so i will never regret any of them, although i may regret my actions at the time. i regret hurting people, i regret not leaving sooner with others, Its like i still feel all of them. Like how they were when i was with them, i have no idea the people they are today because i dont ever talk to anyone i used to date. its too complicated when youre married, whats in the past should stay there. But i do often remember and worry how some are faring. i hear rumors and feel sad that they are not doing well, yes multiple people. Its not like i serial dated but there were about 5 or 6 significant guys who i think of often. Its a weird feeling. Knowing all those people i have encountered in my life, all of them led me to where i am today. I look at my little boy and he is just the most beautiful wonderful human being in my world. He is everything to me, and none of that could have happened without all that i have been through. I have been through hell and back a few times. I never thought id be where i am today, a mother, a wife. Happy. I am happy, because the past 3 years have been so hard and yet ive never counted my blessings more. I now look through the hard times and cling to my husband and son knowing the three of us can make it through anything. It seems i finally feel a peace now, my word vomit has concluded. Its makes absolutely no sense when i re-read it but who cares? no one is really listening right?  

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I am not a writer and hardly consider myself a programmer but here I am writing my very first post about my life as an intern for a non profit at the American Underground. First two weeks have passed but hey! it’s never too late to start.