We're all artists here... and in a place full of artists, is anyone? An entire site filled with right brained people, eager to share their art, their experiences, their thoughts... How fuckin rad?
So what makes me stand out? Who am I? What do I stand for?
How hard it is to answer such questions.
Over the years I have recognized that I am consistently inconsistent. Or would it be inconsistently consistent? Does it even matter?
I like to think of myself as a very well-rounded person, but I suppose that's not really for me to decide. How does one describe themselves without seeming conceited or pretentious?
I'm 22 years old, I change my hair on a constant, I'm a singer/songwriter, a poet, a painter, an illustrator, a writer, a seamstress, and a quilter. I am a jack of all trades, and a master of none. How cliche.
I am a walking contradiction; an anomaly within my mind; One body hosting one too many souls.
I grew up in a nice house in the suburbs where nearly all of the evil was hidden and covered behind big homes and fake smiles, white picket fences and tire swings. Where locked doors weren't necessary and being out passed dark was considered a peaceful walk. I laughed at the ones I considered sheltered, not realizing I too, fit perfectly into that category.
Since then, my life has been driven by the desire to learn every lesson the world can throw at me, so I dance into the darkness, I search for the deepest alleys, I seek out adventure with the hopes that someday, it will bring me wisdom; In hopes that someday I will escape this constant loop called life; the prison we call time. When I am presented with two choices, all too often I choose the most dangerous path, or the shortest -they tend to be the same. SPOILER ALERT : Speeding up my lesson plan totally backfired.
I've spent time in jail, I've been a stripper, a drug dealer, I've been homeless, an addict, living in motels with only the things I could carry on my back. I've gone from victim, to survivor, to victim again. I've been robbed, I've been raped, I've been held at knife point. I've spent years of my life creating experiences to tell my kids, only to find that the stories I tell will never be suitable for children. My life is a suicide statistic in the making but maybe, just maybe, with the right form of expression, I'll achieve the goals I've always wanted to. Maybe everything I experienced wasn't in vain. I'll just share them with you and the rest of the Steemit community instead.
I now suffer from severe generalized anxiety, panic disorder, Fibromyalgia, agorophobia, major depression, ADD, and bipolar disorder. I've tried so many antidepressants, it's actually considered treatment-resistant at this point. So I live with the idea that my life will always be misery. I used to see the beauty in everyone, in everything. As if, with a light as bright as mine, darkness and evil couldnt possibly prevail. but they did.
The tiny flame inside me only lights when I'm writing or painting or working on any other creative project you could possibly think of. My inspiration and happiness is almost entirely dependent on the influence of others, which is why I am so unbelievably grateful to be a part of this amazing community.
Thanks to an old GOW friend from Chicago, @SELFEDMADE , for introducing me to Steemit, I've finally crawled out of the hole I've dug myself into. I've written more in the past two days than i have in 3 years. It feels like winter has ultimately come to an end and I can't wait to gain my voice back.
What kind of content will i provide, you ask? Probably just stories of insanity and songs about losing my shit because that's the one thing I'm fuckin great at, and at least the flame will continue to burn.
So Hi! My Name is Charlotte Roze and I'm fuckin' amped to be a part of Steemit!
Follow me or upvote if you're even the slightest bit interested in hearing more about my experiences. Chaos can be exciting. (;