W, X, Y, and Z The Ending of The Alphabet and The Ending of Our Journey

I really really like poetry (last night I learned really has two L’s not just one) and Andrea Gibson’s poetry especially interests me. For the longest time I could not figure out why. She’s a poet, nothing special or different, just a poet. As my iPod filled with her poems and I found myself dwelling over the words I kept finding the same question arising: why? Why this obsession? Poems are not like songs with catchy melodies, they’re just words, words on pages filling lines, and eventually flying out of someone’s mouth. One day while listening to a Gibson poem it hit me (not like a pound of bricks but rather like rain falling in a heavy storm) I admired her honesty. Gibson writes with no hesitation, no apologies, she writes the way she speaks. She makes no apologies for the swear words she may say or how honest she may be, her poems all seem to lead to self discovery. For so long I have forced my writing to reveal the least possible about me. I wanted myself and my writing to stand separate. I thought for some reason that I could do this. This project, though, made me realize the impassibleness of that. As I let myself become the subject, instead of the back round noise, I started to understand myself more (or who I thought of as me). My writing started to look less and less like the work of an overly structured person and began to look so much like me. The parentheses in my writing representing the side notes that, when I talk, slip out of my mouth; my overly sarcastic voice and ultimately a huge helping of me. I stopped trying to hide myself from my writing, but began finding myself in my writing. Although it sounds a bit schizophrenic, sometimes I do not know something about myself until I start writing. For me, writings no longer just means writing, it means discovering. I think for me that’s what blogging has done. I have learned more about me. I think more importantly though blogging has maid me much more reassured in myself. I think we often struggle with who we are and what people expect of us. This project shows me, I am only me, and I should be proud of who I am. I am someone who likes to play music. I like listening to poetry. I believe everyone has something important to say, I am a writer but not a writer. I am the middle child but the oldest child (depending on who you know). I am loud, but I am also quiet depending upon whom I am with. I am often referred to as a five-year-old boy. I am also told I am wise beyond my years. I am independent and I am unsettling to some and incredible welcoming to others. I am a rebel rouser. I refuse to conform. I am Dani Boucher and I wrote these posts with my own hands filled with my own thoughts and poring out my heart into them. Now I know that type of writing, the whole hearted full body writing, that’s the only kind I ever want to do, and this project shows me that.