paint me over

Make a change, right? It feels like I am covering up a lot of memories, with a layer of paint. I had forgotten all the nights that I would lay on my bed and write on my wall. I suppose the paper was not enough to hold my thoughts. Past that I had painted my favorite album title above the window, anyhere but here... I always used to wait to escape this place, and now I have. Softball was written down one wall, because I used to love to play sports. It seems that a lot of myself was in this room, and I am painting it all over. My friend told me not to paint it, because it was her favorite place to escape to, and she had so many memories there. I am still painting it. Trying to make it not so 14 year old. I suppose that I am also trying to break down to the person I am now. When I was cleaning things out for the garage sale, I found who I used to want to be. It was something that I did, I strived to be someone that I wasn't. There were the years I longed to be a hippie. Peace, Love, and Fake. Anyone that knows me can not forget the I am punk years. The boots, fishnets, can we forget all multiple times I dyed my hair. I am not sure that I ever each the lifestyle of a punk, because I was too considered with meeting the look, and who I needed to be to become that stereotype. Finding all these photos, items, and now all the things I am painting over makes me come to see that I am a person that long to be someone else. I was always content with the person that I made myself into. I think that it was more of belonging without admitting it. It seems that a layer of paint is covering up the insecurities that I never wanted to admit. I have made a change, but it was within myself. I know have to make this change within the place that I feel at home. I have been away, but I am back and there isn't a place that I would rather be. I feel home, and that is just what I feel. It is so real here. It is real in the since that it is the place that has formed me, and covered me for so long. I want to be able to feel at home with the 14-year old inside me forming me but not influencing my choices now. Now I am able to do things that I wasn't and it might just be some paint, but it isn't blue or yellow. It is paint that makes my true self come out and now that it is okay. I am comfortable with being predictable, indecisive and well just being janelle. I like the person I am, and I am not going to change because I am changing the place I feel at home. I am changing this place because I need to be able to know that I am not something I am not. The paper still is not able to hold my thoughts, but I will know have more wall to write on. I can also show the passion I have for creating spaces. It is the one desire I have not lost to learn more about. This is what I am becoming.... an organized, predictable Janelle, but at least I can tell you who I am, what I like to do, listen to, and not just the answers that I thought I would make me seems more like the person I wanted to be. I am okay if people don't like my opinions, answers, or just music. The paint is covering the past to make way for the present.