A need to rant a little

Hello world,
   I have come to the conclusion that my life is what it is and I can't change it. I have to take what I am given and make the most of it. Trying to change is hard work and I have failed in so many areas it is pitiful. I want so much to give you the facts but because there is this nag in the back of my head saying "If you complain, you will get in trouble. If you tell the world exactly how you feel, you will be condemned." You may call this your conscious or unconscious. What ever it is, I wish that the fear of what is saying is true wasn't true.
     How can I tell you about me in truth? I was not the little girl in the dress who participated in beauty pageants. I wasn't that straight A popular girl. I also wasn't a tomboy by no means. I didn't wear a dress but playing with cars in the dirt with my little brother or we sat at the kitchen table where mom would spread out flour for us to make roads. Either way it was hard to get the cars clean. The dirt turned to mud and the flour to doe. So my truth comes out in the stories I tell.
     I can tell a lie with in the truth of a story so much that you may think that it really happened to me but did it really? I can write a story but I can't tell you a story. I can't talk to you and tell you a lie. Ain't that funny? Lying on paper is not a lie but if I speak it - I will be imprisoned by my own nag.
     So what are writers? Writers are liars. Writers stretch the truth and make it so twisted that it turns into a lie. I am just talking about fiction writers not nonfiction - to clarify myself. So if a writer tells a story that is a lie and I write stories does that make me a liar?
     To write truth is nonfiction. I speak the truth but write fiction. I can tell you on paper words that my heart can only wish was true. I used to have a bad habit of writing things to my ex. I say it was a bad habit but I had a hard time talking to him. I would write him notes and leave it next to him when he slept. When we fought and he slept on the couch, we were both to stubborn so I wrote. He wrote me back. Communication in words didn't seem to work for us. I can't remember what I wrote or he wrote to me but I'm sure it was some hurtful stuff. Communication is words was not something I was good at in school either. I would challenge myself not to talk all day but I would get called upon by the teacher to answer a question and that was that. But I was able not to communicate with my peers. I didn't want to talk and found it easy to do. Nobody noticed me anyways. So that's how I found writing.
     My son is just the opposite. Like his father - he can tell you how the cow eats cabbage. He can explain the theory of anything. Writing is not his thing. So are you a writer or a talker? Tell me is it really so bad that I am a writer and not a talker? If I could be like Emily Dickinson, I would. I didn't discover her poetry until college. I had to read "I heard a fly buzz by". She cut herself off from the world and wrote poetry. I'm not a poet and I know it. So now you know a little more about me and this is the truth, all nonfiction.
     I'm not a princess although I did believe in White Knights to come save me.
     I'm not a nerd although I maybe able to convey the hint that I am in my wordiness.
     I'm not a model although my husband would argue with you. I'm just a BBW.

     I am a thinker. I am a liar on paper (computer). I am a dog lover, cats are okay but they aren't as loyal. I am a woman who doesn't cover her feelings, if you hurt them I will let you know. I am a perfectionist but putting things off until later works better for me if it's not a crisis. And I guess the final question is do I believe in GOD? Do I think I will go to Heaven or Hell? Do I believe in ghost? Do I believe in spirits? These are all good questions and my answer is yes and no. How can I believe in a GOD without believing in Heaven, Hell, ghost and spirits? I think I will let this be a topic for another day.

And one more thing, don't lie to me or I'll never believe you again.