This column is aimed at thanking all those who’ve taken the time to read my writings and interpret individual perceptions of my own emotions, beliefs and truths for themselves. I am so grateful for each person who’s written me and thanked me regarding words I’ve expressed. You are the ones who encourage me to continue with my passion. 

Readers are the true interpreters of written work. The individuals who actually delve into writings and find their own voice gathered from the writer’s perspectives. 

I first began this job at the Southern Standard several years ago as an advertising executive which I was horrendous at. I was never the best salesman of myself.

The first moment I was allotted my space to write in the Southern Standard as a columnist is when I realized how wholly I cared about dedicating the quiet parts of myself to those interested in the readings of such works. From the most desperate highs to the most deplorable lows, I wanted to give my entire self to the page.

I’ve wanted to be a writer for as long as I could form words. I wanted to translate my inner thoughts to those who could understand the emotions I hoped to interpret to the world. Something I could combine with the feelings of others and create an emotional understanding of some sort between both reader and writer. 

I’ve always been too far delved into my own brain, making school and social interactions harder for me to maneuver swiftly and comfortably in the murky, turbulent waters of my mind.

I found safety and security in writing. I found my voice after years of having none. Those who’ve listened are those I’ve found solace in. 

I had someone ask me if I had run out of topics to discuss in columns since this one was about thanking the individuals who actually read these. It’s quite the opposite, in fact. 

I thank every person who has let me impact their thoughts, either positively, negatively or without indifference. 

Thank you for providing me with a voice to take in and interpret. It’s a gift I don’t take for granted. 

I’ve been given a space to speak my beliefs, and in which, I have such a great amount of gratitude in the ability to tell my truth and speak on these things for such a small moment in time.

“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars” 

- Jack Kerouac — “On the Road”

Standard reporter Atlanta Northcutt can be reached at 473-2191.