You Can't Blame My Name - Week 1

My name isn't who I am - it holds no significance to my personality.

It doesn't describe me - it isn't an adjective.

Whether I'm three months old and being called Emily,

or I'm almost 18, being called Noel -

it's just four letters, two syllables. One word that has stuck with me.

I wasn't born on Christmas, or even in the winter time.

I'm not a special prodigy, nor is my family religious.

Emily was empty, a meaningless name.

It was the first thing my parents both regretted about me,

Hopefully it will be one of the last.

It was just a simple mistake - a decision made on impulse.

I'm far from empty and far from meaningless.

I'm a book that intends to stay closed but unfortunatly it's just the opposite.

I'm a tale that doesn't plan on ending.

A tale that can only hope to be remembered, even if it's just by my name.

My book has everything a story should intale and more.

I leave pages open so the reader can only imagine what happens next,

Can only wonder what my answers are.

My book will sit on shelves, catch eyes of some -

Catch dust and be a mere nothing to others.

My book is one of a kind, unlike any other.

It is called Noel Louise Fleming.

Blogging?

I'll be able to relieve stress. I'll be able to show the world, or just my classmates, one of my passions: writing. The real me will shine through greatly through the words I write.

I'd like to write about my ghosts and angels, my past and present, my memories - good and bad, my secrets, what I love and hate, my passions; and exactly why my head seems to always spin like a carousel.