The one thing I still know is that you're keeping me down

Like I think I said in my last post, I feel like I don't have words.
Somehow, people tend to think I do. Like the essay I just wrote for World Literature...yeah. I think I try too hard. I'm called articulate, descriptive...but I feel like I'm searching for words that don't exist.
Everybody around me in class had 2.5 pages double spaced.
not 2 1/2. I like decimals much better, for some reason!
I had 6 FULL pages. Yup. 6.
I had more to say about my life than a 17 year old with divorced parents and an 11 month old child. Wanna know what I think the difference is? Yeah, of course ya do! You're here to hear what I have to say!
Te he he...here to hear...
When I write an essay, it's not just to give an answer.
i.e. Q:"What makes you who you are?"
A: "My family, my friends, and music"
Oh, well thank you, average high school senior, for giving me an answer I could've just assumed. I'm not saying anything about their essays. But the difference between me and a girl that has experienced some pretty life-changing stuff who only wrote a 2 paged essay...
I want to make whoever's reading it think. Not like, "Oh, that's nice. Sweet. Leah's life sucked for a little while and she got over it. Her grandmother died and she likes music. Moving on..." But they at least start to think about who I REALLY am. Not only that, but maybe find some sort of an inspiration or tiny encouragement through what I've experienced. Writing that essay almost brought me to tears a few times. And I'm pretty sure I almost made Mr. Larson cry. But. I don't want him crying. Grown men crying isn't something I'm comfortable with! What's funny is he skimmed through everybody's rough drafts before giving them out for peer editing, but he read my entire paper. He says I shouldn't stop writing. It's not that I think I'm a bad writer, or I don't think I'm a good one (basically the same thing), but I feel like I don't do well with words.
Apparently, a lot of the kids in my class told Mr. Larson that they don't have much to say about their life, since much hasn't happened. For me, there's too much to say about my life. A lot of the writing is for myself. Like a paragraph I wrote about my Mema helped me realize how I really felt about her life. Not about her death, but her influence, her loveliness, her strong will, and most importantly, how I exhibit just a little bit of each of these traits, but she wasn't with me for a lot of my childhood.
Gah. I don't wanna just retype my paragraph in the blog. Point is, I may not be able to exactly pinpoint why I am the way I am down to the genetic code, but at this point, God has put everything together. He's working on my destiny, and even now, I'm excited, though there's a lot of unknowns about it.

Here's me just rambling again. Well. There you have it. That's my ramble for the day. I never have much to say, but somehow it turns into six pages.

-Leah