Category: Good Reads

Oh, 2019. You were complete, utter, festering trash. You seemed to last forever, and good god, did you leave like you came: stumbling through the door with a blood-curling scream.

The last year started out well enough for me if I’m honest. In January, I got to visit my partner who lives in Arizona, and it was very nice to get to visit them for the first time. Also, in mid-April, they were able to come to my hometown to go to my prom, and we had a blast during it. However, I would call most of my experience with 2019… a hot mess. Just… a hot mess.

I found that many times during 2019, I was succumbing to what I like to call “writer’s fatigue.” This is a condition that I find myself often succumbing to- where I get exhausted with a piece- and try as I may, I found that it was very difficult to overcome this sense of fatigue.

And even though I found myself often battling this fatigue, I found that I was still able to create some fantastic works both for school and for my own projects as well. I want to show one of them here:

Pandora

Pinned with the blame
of releasing all that is evil;
my beauty was created
to bring destruction to mankind.

I was created with clay
like every other man,
but life was breathed into me
by the winds of the earth.

I was clothed in majesty,
given a heart of lust,
a mind of lies,
and given the name “All Gifted”

I did not have a desire
to be brought into this world-
my creation was a punishment
to those who dared to trick a god.

My beauty was bestowed
upon my body
to hide the very venom
that one could see in my eyes.

I did not choose to be created.
I did not choose to unleash evil.
I did not choose to be hated by men.
I did not get the chance to choose.

“Pandora” was written as a part of a poetry collection I began to work on that I titled “Heavenly Vices,” and if I’m honest, it’s a collection that I am very proud of. I also created a collection of poems about cults and their leaders, like the following:

Gates of Heaven

Listen closely
oh children of mine,
so I may show you
God’s newest sign.

In Hale-Bopp’s tail
Heaven’s ship rides;
now it is time
to say our goodbyes.

We’ve communed together
for years and years-
we’ve shared our dreams,
our secrets, and fears.

So fill your pockets
with quarters and pennies,
cover your heads,
and repeat after me:

“Our God will now
take us away-
we’ve been preparing
for this day.

Heaven will be
a sight to see;
we’ll see again
our savior, Ti.

Our shoes are tied,
and still we lie.
Prepare yourself-
do not cry.

So count your blessings
and swallow your pride.
To Heaven’s Gate
we now will fly.”

“Gates of Heaven” and others in that collection are the ones that I am the proudest of. Because of this, I am hoping that I can continue to make works like this in the upcoming year. Thankfully, it appears that my writing fatigue is finally starting to fade away, and I am finding more and more that I am able to focus on projects and stay on task. It is my hope that this year, things will get better. I want to improve as a person just as much as I want to improve as a writer. And my ultimate goal is to end this new year better than I started it.

Recently, I’ve been spending a lot of time by myself, and it has been the hardest, most uplifting time of my life. About two months ago, I ended up getting a room by myself, and it was really scary for me at first because I had never been truly on my own in my entire life. I always shared a room with my sister or (of course) had a roommate. The feeling was very new to me, and I knew that it was going to take some time to get used to.

The first two weeks were really rough. It was very silent when I woke up, and throughout the entire day as well. I had two off blocks at the time, so I spent a lot of time in my room. I know you’re probably thinking, “Vic, don’t you have friends?” and the answer is yes, I do have friends, but at the time, everyone was studying and worrying about their own problems. Therefore, there wasn’t much time to hang out. I spent most of my time on my phone watching Tiktok or making Tiktoks (HA). Looking back at this, I wasted a lot of valuable time that I could have used to do more productive things instead of trying to distract myself from my loneliness.

It wasn’t until during Thanksgiving break that I started to improve myself and make myself be more productive. I also had the house to myself for half of the week, so that too was a time where I was forced to be alone, but it helped me so much. During the break I really self reflected. I evaluated myself and my toxic traits, and this led me to realizing that it’s okay to be alone sometimes.

Once I got back to school, I spent even more time in my room. I liked it. I could be myself and do the things I wanted to do. All of the things I thought required the company of other people really only required myself. After the break, I decided to tap into my creative side because I realized that I hadn’t done that in a while. I painted a lot more and journaled every day. I prioritized not only my school work and the things I needed to do, but also my mental health and loving myself. It was through all of this that I realized that in the end, you’re only going to have yourself. Sometimes you are going to have to be your own best friend, and that is okay. It’s okay to detach and take personal steps towards growing and developing as a person.

Through these past two months, I’ve not only learned how to be happy when I’m alone, but I’ve also learned how to balance my social life with my work life. I prioritize my work and put everything else second. For me, I’ve really fallen in love with working on things that I’m passionate about. It used to feel like my discipline work was a chore, but now I’m so eager to get the next assignment.

I’ve also stopped using sleep as an escape from my problems. I used to sleep in order to get away temporarily from my problems, which is not a good coping mechanism at all and could dig your hole even deeper than it already is. I found that staying up just a little longer to work a bit more on projects or to study for tests can show such a large improvement in your life. If anything, I definitely feel more prepared and less stressed.

These past two months have really helped me to calm my stress. I didn’t realize that most of my stress was coming from NOT being alone enough, not giving myself time to recollect myself and do the things I needed to do.

Anyways, that’s my spill on self love and doing what’s best for you. New chapters are good; I promise. Even the worst memories can turn into great ones if you change your perspective and find the lessons within them.

Happy New Year! I figured that this year would be one of the most significant years of my life. Not only am I graduating high school, but I am also turning eighteen. Those are two really great accomplishments, taking into consideration the way this cold world is going right now. I have heard so many young black males not making it to eighteen or graduation due to violence and lack of structure or discipline. So, I decided to make a pretty big decision on the first Saturday of this year. I cut my hair. I had the same hairstyle for roughly seven years.

The number one reason I had to let the hair go was that so much came with that hair. Not even taking into consideration the upkeep of the hair. The constant washing, moisturizing, and shaping of it. There was a bit of trauma and disaster that came along with it. Though it was beautiful, it was damaged, and so was I. At the time, I felt the best thing I could do was cut it all off. It took a bit of a tole on me, and still sort of is, but that is only because of the length of time I kept it.

I always said that I was ready to make a change in my life, but how can I make a change if I have been looking at the same person for a number of years. In order for me to change positively, I had to cut some things out of my life. The hair just happened to be a part of the things I had to change. I am growing it back, but that will take months. I am allowing myself those months to heal from the things that dismantled any unstable components of my life.

This year, a lot is changing in my life. I will be considered a legal adult soon, I will be leaving a school that I consider home, and I will be starting a higher education process at a new school. There is no possible way I will allow myself to carry the burdens and baggage of the version of me from months and in some cases, even years ago.

At this stage of my life, I just plan to take the lessons I have learned and apply them into my everyday life so that I can achieve so many exceptional things in this lifetime. Then, take those same lessons and pass them down to those behind me and hopefully make a change in this world.

There are things in this life that will shake you down to your core. As we grow, there is an expanding fear within us that can and will destroy us if we let it. This darkness, this blob of fright and doubt, is an emotion so simple we often over look it: anxiety.

Anxiety prevents me from doing so many things. It makes me not want to go certain places, or to college interviews, or even out to eat; it makes me not want to write certain things for fear of judgment. It’s a heavy burden that people avoid talking about.

For me, perhaps the burden is a little heavier for me. I was diagnosed with depression caused by panic when I was five years old. I’ve struggled since I was a kid to stay happy, to stay positive, to keep growing and going. It’s hard when the panic attack hits, it really is, and I won’t lie and say that there aren’t times I just want to lay in my bed and ignore the entire world.  I get so depressed because of how hard things are, how seemingly insignificant I am.

Sometimes I enter this state of mind where I think: I am on a tiny planet with millions of people, in a gigantic galaxy surrounded by even bigger galaxies and planets. I am but a speck in a very, very large painting. I forget that every drop of paint matters, ever stroke of the brush is necessary for the full picture. I’m sure there are readers out there who forget that too.

I do believe in a creator, in God. I believe that he has put me here for a purpose just as he has everyone else. It’s hard to believe that. It’s hard to hold on to that, and I don’t expect everyone to be able to. But for me, if I lose that faith I lose my morality and I fade away. I am so held back from everything because of the way my brain works and it’s exhausting. I have to have something to hold onto. My greatest advice for those out there is to find your anchor, because you’ll need it when the waves get rough.

I have learned something very important through the misery though. Existing isn’t living, no matter how bad I want it to be. I can’t just go through the motions. I have to push, I have to strive, I have to make myself be the person I’ve always wanted to be. We have been lied to. Dreams don’t happen while we are asleep, they happen while we are walking in the daytime, they happen in the midst of our worst nightmares. Misery can be creativity. It’s just a matter of how we look at it.

Love, the most tragic and beautiful abstract feeling. When you’re young, you take what you can get. The first boy to say he loves you may wind up being your first everything else. Your first kiss, touch, the first boy you bring home to meet your parents, and almost inevitably, your first heartbreak. I’m sure most of you reading this have already experienced this first love kind of pain, and those of you who have are probably still searching for a way to let go and move on. It seems almost impossible to see yourself loving another the same way you loved your first, and I cannot be entirely sure if pure, innocent love can ever be reused. The thing is, there are greater loves out there. There are stories much more monumental for you to be a part of.

See, I’ve noticed that when a girl gets her heart broken for the first time, they often spiral in self-consciousness and deprecation. I did it, I’ve watched my friends do it. You convince yourselves that if the first love wasn’t forever then no one is. Then you move forward. Date again. Kiss again, but you’re still missing him, aren’t you? Of course you are. You have managed to put yourself so far down that you don’t think you deserve another shot at love. You’re too scared of it. You tell your friends you don’t want to love anyone but him. They tell you that you’re stupid; may even make you feel kind of bad about it; but it’s probably due to the fact that your on-going heartache is reminding them of their own. We are all in pain here. It’s a painful world, a “love” is a painful word.

The good news, rather it be your first heartbreak or your eleventh, it will fade. The beautiful thing about love is that it has no limits. Think of it the way scientists view the universe, expansive and infinite, there is not a solid person or thing that you must invest this feeling into. You meet new people every day. You have a new opportunity to love and grow with every moment that passes by. I can’t tell you how to let go of that person you are hanging on to. I can’t explain how moving on works because I’m not too good at it myself, but what I do know is, while the love we have inside of is unmeasurable and unconditional, our time to use it, is not. So, don’t waste time dwindling on the pain and sorrows, just run, not away but into, the arms of the world and all the tragic, beautiful, incomparable love it has to offer.

If I could describe in one word how I’m feeling right now, the word would be “stressed.” I’m sure everyone at MSA can relate to that statement in some way, shape, or form. I thought I was at the pinnacle of stress at the start of senior year and even during some periods of my junior year; however, I’ve never been so stressed in my life.

It’s late November, and at this point, I’ve been working on my Fashion Magazine for about two months. I got inspired for the project early October while I was at a friends house one weekend(see previous blog to get the entire scoop), and since then I’ve been working on it daily. This is very rare for me. If you know me personally, you know that I get ideas, and if it isn’t something that can get done within a week or two, I usually drop it. The fact that I’ve been working on this for two months is an accomplishment in itself, but I have so much more to do.

I’ve decided that I want to be completely finished with the magazine by April 20th, 2020, which is the day of my showcase. By the way, the event is open to the public, so if you’re interested in this magazine or any of my work in general, you should most definitely come check it out. This deadline will also mean that the magazines will be completely printed and in my hands, ready to order by this date. From today, that is about five months from now. *internally screaming*

Within the magazine there will be photo shoots, shot by me, of students at MSA that have so graciously been willing to participate. There will also be interviews and articles about certain people at MSA that I find exceptionally rich in their specific art. Whether that be Vocal, Literary, Fashion Design, Theater, Visual, Dance, and even Cinematography. It will all be included.

I’ve even decided to design and create fashion pieces of my own. This took a lot of consideration in deciding to do this. I was scared that I wouldn’t have time or willing participants, but I decided that the magazine wouldn’t be my own if I didn’t include this. So far I’ve created one of my fashion pieces, and I’m so excited to create the other pieces.

Overall, I believe that the magazine will reflect the inspirations I’ve kept bottled up for so many years. I’ve always wanted to create something that showed who I am as a person and the things I care about. This magazine has already become so important to me, which is so exciting for me.

Working on my magazine along with applying for colleges, scholarships, and just everyday MSA routines has been causing me a lot of stress, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t happy. I’ve never been so happy in my entire life. I’ve never had so much fun while doing work. I realized that fashion and journalism is my passion because I’ve never been so stressed with something, yet still have the most fun I could possibly have. I already know that this project is going to help me learn so many things about myself because in a way, it already has.

I just want to thank everyone who is supporting me and supporting my vision. I know for a fact that if it weren’t for any of you, this really would not be possible, and I mean that wholeheartedly. I know that’s so cliche to say, but I’m so serious about it. I really mean it. I’m so excited to share this piece of myself with you guys. It will take a while, but I promise it will be so worth it. I won’t let you down!

Check back with me April 20th, 2020:)

If you would have asked me two months ago what I wanted to pursue as a career, I would tell you that I wanted to be an environmental lawyer. I would go on and on about how I wanted to save the planet from itself, and give random facts about how much time we have left until it’s impossible for human existence on earth. I did everything in my power to help the earth become more green. This is not a bad thing; I’m not saying it is, but I don’t believe I did it completely because I was passionate about it. I think I did it because I wanted my family and other people to be proud of me. I wanted to be enough for them.

I tried my absolute hardest to prove to people that I was smart and capable of making a difference. What I didn’t realize is that it caused me to detach from myself. It caused me to neglect my true talents and passions.

Earlier this year, in the second semester of junior year, I was completely unhappy with everything. I closed myself off from so many things. I completely isolated myself. Around mid-April, I realized that I needed to better myself. I knew that I wasn’t the best version of myself and I wanted to make a change. Throughout the entire summer I completely changed my outlook of everything, and I will be honest, I did feel so completely happy, but something else was missing. I couldn’t figure out what it was.

About a month ago, I stayed with a close friends house and we had a very deep conversation. We talked about how I wasn’t happy and how I was tricking myself into thinking I was happy. She told me, “you have to let go,” and that’s when my eyes were opened up to everything. I realized that I didn’t want to be a lawyer. I only wanted to be a lawyer so that my family and friends would be proud of me. I do care about the environment and I do think that we should do everything in our power to make some type of difference, but I also have my own passions that I want to be able to pursue as well. All along I had lived my life for others. That is why I wasn’t happy. I was neglecting what actually made me happy because of what others told me.

Upon this discovery, I realized that I want to be a Fashion Journalist. I always have. I want to work on projects that make me happy, not projects that other people tell me will make me happy. Ever since that day I have been pursuing the things I love instead of the things other people think I would excel at. And that in itself has caused me to be joyful and excited for my future.

For the first time in a very long time, I am excited for the things to come.

I wrote this for Letters for Literature, and this speech is really incredible, so I thought I would use this as my blog.

(Here’s the link, if you want to listen to it.)

November 9, 2018

Dear Mr. David Foster Wallace,

How could you? In This is Water, you open our minds to breaking the boundaries of our brains, of shifting perspective of life and the little inconsistencies we find in our everyday routines-you speak of hope. This 2005 public speech at Kenyon University would later go on to be one of your most influential pieces, a speech that would leave all generations open mouthed and in awe of their own existence. And yet, police found you hanging from the rafters in your home not three years later. You hung yourself on September 12, 2008, you killed your ideals when you killed yourself and that, Mr. Wallace, makes you a hypocrite.
This is Water is a piece that reflects on human self-perseverance through seeing life’s negative attributes as a gift to each of us. You suggest within it a self-discipline, a mind-over-matter way of seeing the world. It is a piece meant to remind us of the “water” all around us, of our lives that are more beautiful than we now can comprehend, and of the self-awareness we all should have towards our external experiences and through our communications with others. And I knew as I listened in my bed and cried to this piece, that you must be a forever lonely man, having thoughts such as these. It is a very daunting task to chase intellect and nearly worship it, you said it yourself, so how could you let this same idea ruin you?
After hearing this speech, I noticed my shoes fit different. I watched my words fall from my mouth and found myself able to touch them with my fingers, to feel the power each syllable had once spoken into the air. I imagined my life and walked with open hands into it, palms outstretched and ready to gratefully tackle any obstacle. Shortly after practicing this lifestyle, I learned too of your death. Of your major-depressive disorder and the electroshock therapy. Of your struggles and your internal pain, though I had initially pictured you as this impenetrable force, a man with a more resilient mind than anyone I had the privilege to listen to before.
Mr. Wallace, I will forever be in awe of you, but you are a hypocrite, you are a liar. You cheated me, giving me false hope where even you couldn’t find any. You said once that “writing is what it means to be a f****** human being”, that writing has the potential to make the writer and reader “less alone inside.” Still, there was a hole in you-the writing wasn’t enough, the people you touched with your spirit through poetry, essays, and speeches was not enough for you. The hole was your heart and head aching in a constant and never-ending battle, depressive episodes racking through your bones and choking these sentimental, humble phrases from your mouth. You let your brain eat you from the inside out, and I don’t know if I can forgive you for it.
What did you worship, Mr. Wallace? Was it intellect, as I first imagined, that drove you? Perhaps not, as you did say it was incredibly useless to do so, but I still have notions that you said this knowing you would always return to look for more intellect, that you secret did in fact worship knowledge and knowingly let it break you into little pieces, running to a finish line that never existed.
As you said, “The one thing that is Capital T- true, is that you decide how you’re going to see it.” You were talking about life when you let these words tumble from your mouth. Maybe you were more selfish than I knew, only talking of your own life, but Mr. Wallace, when you said this, I considered my life and the lives of my friends, of my family, of strangers I would meet in the next. It was universal, and your words hit home. As a fish in water, as my seventeen-year-old self, I was hooked to this quote, and it still carries me through days. But, Mr. Wallace, can it even hold the weight it once did in my mind after discovering that you never fully invested into the idea yourself? You had chances, you have choices, and though your words were brilliant, I have trouble coming to terms with your death and simultaneously believing in them. I can barely believe in you anymore.
Mr. Wallace, I hope you found peace through your decision, but I also hope you know that because of your decision, I do not believe peace is something I will have for a very long time.

Best wishes, wherever you are,

Katherine Dian Westbrook

Welcome to the story of Tyler Renee, a literary artist.

So about 10 years ago, eight year old me sat down on a beige couch with a speckled composition book in my pink “writer’s robe” (a bathrobe that I only wore when writing at home) and wrote a 20 page story about three girls and a dolphin. Now, looking back on that story, I can honestly tell you that it was trash. But it succeeded in helping me find my passion for writing.

After  that, I started writing poetry. I filled many composition books with rhyming poems (I was a fan on the ABAB CDCD rhyme scheme at the time.)  It became more often that one would find me scribbling away in a composition book writing than reading AR books or doing my math homework. This of course caused some problems and for a couple years or so I didn’t write at all.

When I got to be 12 or 13, I picked up the  habit again (this time abandoning the rhyme scheme all together). I would write short fiction stories and create characters in my free time. I wrote about my religious beliefs and societal problems. I wrote of depression and happiness.

But then I started going through a hard time getting anywhere with my stories and would throw most away as soon as I broke away from them. I would tear pages upon pages of writing out of my notebooks before throwing them away because at the time I didn’t believe in my writing in the slightest bit.

Then when I was 15, I learned about Mississippi School of the Arts and I was once again inspired to write and I started to really believe that I could be a poet and write for a living. I practiced create several portfolios for the application for Mississippi School of the Arts. I was fully prepared to apply. But the year of my application, I was not in the best of mindsets. I lost full belief in my writing and myself. I threw away all of my poetry and fiction pieces that I had cultivated. I gave up writing and any dreams that I had that I could live the life of a literary artist.

However, my friend, Nakiejah Hickman, talked me into rewriting my pieces and applying anyways. The day I received my acceptance letter was the day that I fully accepted that my writing was not the trash I believed it to be. From that day forward, I have written many poems and fiction pieces. I have written plays and monologues (I mean they were not the best but they didn’t suck too bad).

I am proud to call myself a literary artist. And I am proud to say that I have come a long way from the 8 year old in a pink robe writing about dolphins. And while I lost years of my earliest works, I am proud to have struggled the way I had. It taught me to fully embrace my creativity and my art.

So here’s to a new year of literary growth.