I was told to pour my heart and soul into my creativity, which I suppose is what I am doing in some ways but in actuality this story is going to be just as unoriginal and cliché as any other contemporary story written. Then again what is originality? Sure we have our own views but you can’t be original when you yourself are bits and pieces of many different things can you?
Which is why I find it ironic when someone questions my originality. I am just as original as the emo kid or the plastic Barbie you sit next to in English class who is always painting her face with the expensive chemicals tested on animals before produced. But that’s not where this story was suppose to go. What is creativity? We’re taught at a young age when we scribble those messy swirls on a piece of construction paper that what we’re making is art and we’re being creative. Now if you think about it how creative is that? Scribbles, seriously? Then again in my personal opinion my scribbles were far more artistic than those cubed figures Pablo Picasso made. But who am I to judge art. Art takes its own form just like originality and creativity. Which is where I will say my piece no matter how much the wannabe Barbie or the hardcore scene chick may question your originality think about how original they are and then believe the words they speak.