In the midst of reading this poem, I realized that I didn’t really know the meaning of a paradox. By definition, a paradox isa seemingly absurd or self-contradictory statement or proposition that when investigated or explained may prove to be well-founded or true. In layman’s terms, a paradox is a contradiction; this is when two things go against each other. Paul Laurence Dunbar, an African-American poet, wrote this poem with each stanza being a new paradox. His use of the literary device gave distinct and keen characteristics of the speaker in the poem. The general structure of the poem is very simplistic and easy to read. The poem itself is very well-written and is a very powerful read.
On my first read of the poem, I didn’t understand what it meant. This led me to looking up what a paradox is. If you don’t know what it is, I would suggest looking it up and getting an understanding for yourself before you go back to read the poem in that context. Once I read the poem again with new eyes, I realized the message behind the words. From my understanding, the poem is being told by Paul Laurence Dunbar. He is telling of himself.
In the first stanza, he starts with “I am the mother of sorrows,” a line that I took the meaning to be along the lines of being a person who often causes sorrows in life. The contradiction lies in the meaning of mother and the meaning of sorrows. The two go against each other. A mother has the associations of comfort, love, and warmth while sorrows almost always have death, darkness, and grief attached to it. The beauty of the line, for me, is the combination of the two; To consider yourself the mother of sorrows has to be a hard realization to come by.
All throughout the poem, Dunbar has various lines that show a paradox. He uses these to tell about himself; it felt like I was reading an autobiography almost. By the tone and the use of certain words, it feels like he is trying to prove himself. I suppose with more information on the life of the poet, I would have an even deeper understanding of the poem. I don’t know if the popularity of Dunbar when he wrote this poem or even what situation he was in, but the poem sounds like he is trying to prove himself worthy of praise. If not praise, then it could be acknowledgment. In the 6th stanza, Dunbar says, “Then shalt thou see me and know me—” a line I find to be quite sad. The lines before this one in the same stanza tell us that Dunbar will take his name down to the grave and out from the mouths of those who don’t like him or his writing. The line feels like he is saying that only in his death will he be appreciated. That is sad to say.
This poem took me on a journey, and every time I read it, I figure out something new. My interpretation of the poem could be very wrong or it could be very right, but we will never truly find out. I hope you all like this poem, if not, why? I am genuinely interested in seeing how people take in this poem and its meaning. I love this poem and I am sure I will be reading some of his other works, but for now, I’m going to keep enjoying and reading this poem!
These past few months have been especially hard for me, and the global pandemic hasn’t helped.
I thought I had my whole life figured out. I thought I knew who I was, but man, was I wrong.
Being student body president, has been one of the greatest experiences. I get to wake up every day with a purpose because I love what I am doing. I love what I am cultivating within my community, but I won’t lie, it’s also been so hard for me. Before, my purpose was writing, but now, I’m a leader. I have people who look up to me, who are counting on me, and of course, I didn’t just stop being a writer. I will always be a writer. I will always have that passion and drive to write and to tell my truth, but now, I have two roles that buy for my attention.
I have to be a writer but I also have to be a leader, and some days, I just don’t know how to be both. I don’t know who I am. Am I “Maleigh, RISE editor-in-chief”? “Maleigh, literary artist”? or “Maleigh, student body president”? To choose, is one the hardest things because I am all at the same time, and finding a balance has been quite the challenge. There’s this internal battle within me, and I don’t who’s the winner.
“I am trying to both be happy and pay attention to the world around me. I do not know if it is possible to do both at the same time.” ― Blythe Baird
If My Body Could Speak was written by poet and spoken word artist, Blythe Baird. It was released in early 2019, and features 46 original poems by the artist.
Synopsis:
“If My Body Could Speak is about fighting for the space one takes up in a world that would rather they take up none at all. Blythe Baird deftly and uniquely charts a course through various modes of womanhood and women’s bodies. Through love, loss, and the struggles of disordered eating, If My Body Could Speak uses sharp narratives and visceral imagery to get to the heart of a many-layered existence, speaking to many generations at once” (Goodreads).
Review:
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book. Personally, I prefer listening to audiobooks that are read by the author and following along with the script. It allows for readers to get the full experience, so that’s what I do.
Baird does an exceptional job of writing poetry that women from all walks of life can relate to, as it deals specifically with body acceptance, eating disorders, queerness, womanhood and femininity, and rape culture.
Her poem, “When the Fat Girl Gets Skinny” is the most notable, as it went viral on YouTube.
The poem vividly and poetically tells the story of Baird’s struggle with an eating disorder.
“If you develop an eating disorder when you are already thin to begin with, you go to the hospital. If you develop an eating disorder when you are not thin to begin with, you are a success story. ”
― Blythe Baird
“If your body could speak, would she forgive you?” ― Blythe Baird
Senioritis is very real, and if you think you will never get it, you’re wrong because it happened to me…
“I’m Maleigh Crespo, and I suffer from senioritis.”
Yes, it’s true. I succumbed to the pressure of senior year, but I am trying to find my way back, slowly but surely. I thought I’d give you a few tips that I’ve learned along the way:
It’s not like the movies, so stop trying so hard
Senior year is not like High School Musical or Twilight. There’s no epic romance or incredible self-discovery, so stop waiting for that to happen, and do your homework.
College is overrated— and overpriced
Don’t get me wrong, education is important, but with that incredible urge to simply not go to college lingering over your head, it gets hard to continue moving forward. I get it. College is also crazy expensive for no reason, and if finances alone don’t make you want to drop out before you’ve even been accepted, please let me know how you live life. It’s normal to feel these things, but if you’re the college-going type, please go to college. Fill out the arduous applications: type your name and email into the little squares a million times if you have to, write that essay that the fate of your future depends on, pester your counselor for the thousandth time about your class rank; do it all, but don’t give up. You got this!
Stop talking to that boy
Again, this isn’t Twilight, Bella. It’s not gonna happen, so please stop talking to him every night and get some sleep. You’ll thank me later.
PRIORITIES, PRIORITIES, PRIORITIES !!!
If you learn nothing else from senior year (or this blog post), I hope it’s prioritizing! I know you want to go out to dinner with the girls, but the girls don’t have a huge research paper due tomorrow at 11:59pm. Though you probably could’ve done both had you managed your time wisely…
Time Management
Keep a planner or schedule at all times. Hold yourself accountable. Say you’ll get things done and ACTUALLY GET THEM DONE. Be honest with yourself, and only pan to do things you’re really going to do. Don’t set yourself up for failure.
Learn the word “No,” and Use it Often
Stop agreeing to do things you don’t want to do or saying yes when you KNOW you don’t have time! Your friends will still love you if you miss one event, and if they don’t, you need better friends anyway.
Self Care
Treat yourself kindly, and make time for yourself! Don’t make too much time for yourself to the point that you aren’t being productive, but every now and then, do something nice, just for YOU! Please just take care of yourself— mind, body, and soul.
Senioritis is real, and you need to be aware of it. Don’t be in denial, but don’t be paranoid. It can happen to anyone, and that’s okay. You just have to recognize it and overcome it.
If you feel symptoms of this illness coming on, take the proper precautions to prevent it from derailing you from having an awesome senior year. Keep your head up. It does get better 🙂 (or maybe it doesn’t…)
Welcome to part two of my review of Disintegration, a Cure album released in 1989. Enjoy!
I had to rewrite it three times because it kept being deleted. (:
Track Six: “Lullaby”
Duration: 4:08
Initial Thoughts
The hook immediately reels in listeners, an eerie stringed instrument later paired with Robert Smith’s whispered vocals. Overall, “Lullaby” plays as an incredibly rich blend of plucked and soaring strings, all tied together by heavy, methodical bass and flat, snapping drums. Horror poetry at its finest, this track deviates from the album’s established sound, possessing an ambiance unique to no other song. “Lullaby” reaches an odd comfort in the depths of unease. It is of fear, of fascination. And as a result, you find yourself swaying to the morbid melody—slipping into the groove, submerged in Smith’s terrified voice.
Lyrics
“Lullaby”
(I spy with my little eye) (Something beginning with S)
On candy stripe legs the spiderman comes Softly through the shadow of the evening sun Stealing past the windows of the blissfully dead Looking for the victim shivering in bed Searching out fear in the gathering gloom and suddenly! A movement in the corner of the room! And there is nothing I can do When I realize with fright That the spiderman is having me for dinner tonight!
Quietly he laughs, shaking his head Creeps closer now Closer to the foot of the bed And softer than shadow And quicker than flies His arms are all around me and his tongue in my eyes “Be still be calm be quiet now my precious boy Don’t struggle like that or I will only love you more For it’s much too late to get away or turn on the light The spiderman is having you for dinner tonight”
And I feel like I’m being eaten By a thousand million shivering furry holes And I know that in the morning I will wake up in the shivering cold And the spiderman is always hungry…
(Come into my parlour) (Said the spider to the fly) (I have a little something here)
Typical of Robert Smith, a myriad of interpretations surround this track. Perhaps the lyrics depict a horrific nightmare. Perhaps the lyrics follow a child cowering in bed, terrified by their own imagination: “On candy striped legs, the spider man comes…”. Perhaps the lyrics do not regard a child at all; following instead an adult struggling with mental afflictions or, as some speculate, an addiction. Or perhaps the lyrics speak of something far more malicious and even gory. Whatever the intent, Robert Smith’s talent is utterly undeniable.
The Literary Prowess of “Lullaby”
“…Softly through the shadow of the evening sun Stealing past the windows of the blissfully dead…”
Through the repetition of the letter S along with a few literary devices, Smith achieves a satisfying lyrical sound.
“And softer than shadow And quicker than flies His arms are all around me and his tongue in my eyes”
This segment successfully contributes to the uneasy atmosphere of “Lullaby”—augmenting the situation to something dire in a way that listeners feel every ounce of fear.
Overall
A Cure classic, “Lullaby ” does not disappoint. It possesses a certain allure despite its disturbing nature, a morbid fascination that persuades listeners to sway in a blurred state of doom. “Lullaby” is outrageously groovy as it is terrifying, and its incredibly rich sound intrigues like no other. Smith’s unsettling vocals deserve dissection and appreciation, and the overall effect produced by his warped, hushed voice enriches the experience of “Lullaby”. All in all, this track belongs to my list of favorite Cure songs. I have endless appreciation for the impeccable lyrics and smooth yet jittery beat. Now I want a Disintegration record to play during chocolate cake eating sessions where I stare at an unfinished essay while blasting “Lullaby”—to cope, of course.
Track Seven: “Fascination Street”
Duration: 5:16
Initial Thoughts
What a masterpiece…”Fascination Street” steals the spotlight with its absolutely stellar body of sound. A grinding bass demands attention, driving the beat, and adamant electric guitars vie for priority. A simple but effective drum beat adds incredible flavor, as does Robert Smith’s bold vocals. This song ends too soon, taking its entrancing rhythms and sweet guitar voices with it. Although Smith’s vocals add a certain spice that characterizes the Cure, “Fascination Street”‘s instrumentals never fail to steal hearts.
Lyrics
“Fascination Street”
Oh, it’s opening time Down on Fascination Street So let’s cut the conversation And get out for a bit Because I feel it all fading And paling and I’m begging To drag you down with me To kick the last nail in Yeah, I like you in that Like I like you to scream But if you open your mouth Then I can’t be responsible For quite what goes in Or to care what comes out So just pull on your hair Just pull on your pout And let’s move to the beat Like we know that it’s over If you slip going under Slip over my shoulder So just pull on your face Just pull on your feet And let’s hit opening time Down on Fascination Street
So pull on your hair Pull on your pout Cut the conversation Just open your mouth Pull on your face Pull on your feet And let’s hit opening time Down on Fascination Street… …On Fascination Street
Yet again, Disintegration‘s tone shifts. Robert Smith abandons the belittled terror of “Lullaby” to embrace something dramatic and a bit dec. Despite their vague read, the lyrics suggest a place of oblivious, carefree fun infatuated with all things frivolous and gaudy. Daring but laced with, perhaps, a regrettable edge, “Fascination Street” joins the Cure’s 1989 album boastfully—a successful hit.
I admire how Smith effortlessly incorporates his vocals into the sound. First and foremost, his lyrics exist flawlessly alongside the riveting pulse of the song, Smith’s words clarifying the drama foretold by guitarists and percussionists. Not only this but I admire the ease Smith has when matching his lyrics to the intensity of the instrumentals—it is honestly immaculate. The vocals and instrumental voices are one pitch, seamless in their separation.
Overall
I love the heavy bass that saturates the entire track and establishes a serious tone. High-strung guitars whine and dance in a mood set by the bass that leaves nothing untouched. “Fascination Street” exists as a dramatic experience dripping in excess; it is an ocean of complexity and disaster. I must say, out of all the tracks on Disintegration, this one provides the most infectious, dance-inspiring rhythms. A dance or bobbing head to “Fascination Street” is irresistible, and I love the bass and Smith’s vocals. I can not possibly express my adoration for the amazing pitch and tone. Often times, I listen to this track and slip into the sound, forgetting all of my obligations.
Track Eight: “Prayers for Rain”
Duration: 6:05
Initial Thoughts
Listen to this track with a sufficient sound system and a volume raised to one hundred! The introduction is mystifying, its tense climb building towards a sonic, reality-altering bass. The tempo is methodical, dark, assured. The beat is forlorn, caustic. Robert Smith’s lyrics add a touch of spite and clarity that enhances the backdrop of heavy, authoritative sound. All in all, “Prayers for Rain” is an intense, flavorful masterpiece that is very much aware. I highly respect the quality of this song, and it lives among my all-time Cure favorites as well. I can not get enough bass.
Lyrics
“Prayers For Rain”
You shatter me your grip on me a hold on me so dull it kills You stifle me infectious sense of hopelessness and prayers for rain I suffocate, I breathe in dirt and nowhere shines but desolate And drab the hours all spent on killing time again all waiting for the rain
You fracture me your hands on me a touch so plain so stale it kills You strangle me entangle me in hopelessness and prayers for rain I deteriorate I live in dirt and nowhere glows but drearily and tired And tired the hours all spent on killing time again all waiting for the rain
You fracture me your hands on me a touch so plain so stale it kills You strangle me entangle me in hopelessness and prayers for rain Prayers for rain…
Smith’s lyrics read as prose, loose and undefined—almost a stream of consciousness. Unlike in “Fascination Street”, Smith’s vocals separate from the instrumental voices; he intends for the lyrics to stand out. His words are restrained but reflective and full of feeling. As the lyrics are as vague as other Cure songs, I have only interpretations.
The narrator is involved in something quite unpleasant—tied to someone or something, a “you”—that they wish to escape. The detriment in question has an iron hold on the narrator, so much that the narrator prays for “rain”. After examining the lyrics, I infer that the narrator is experiencing a drought of sorts; rain is the relief. Smith also repeats the following words: dirt, stale, kills/killing. Smith also features feelings of suffocation as well as the dimming and deterioration of something. The narrator is broken, ripped inside and out, fractured, strangled. With strong, captivating language, Smith paints a desperate scene of realization.
Overall
I greatly admire Robert Smith’s attention to the vocals. His words play as thoughts bubbling and bursting in a mind or an argument. With the added meaning of Smith’s beautifully sung lyrics—I love, love, love his voice—”Prayers for Rain” draws listeners into a contemplative mixture of soaring, sonic sound that resonates long after the six minutes conclude. The overall sound is incredibly rich and meditative, and I personally find myself absorbed into this grand world of immense, pessimistic feeling. “Prayers for Rain” exists, in my opinion, as one of the Cure’s most masterfully created songs. I thoroughly enjoy raising my headphones’ volume to a dangerous level and picking apart every minute, savory detail. I love this song! It has such a hypnotic sound.
Peace Out
See you all soon for part three! Only four songs remain…then I have other plans (dun dun dun). Have a good day and know that you are all loved and special. (:
Ah, nostalgia. That is the one word I would pick to describe club penguin. If you were born from 1999 and above you have probably played the game. It started in 2005 and ended in 2017. Although, a new version of it called club penguin rewritten came about in 2017. It was basically a carbon copy of the old one. Today, I want to review the well-beloved game! So I hope you enjoy!
So, what is club penguin? Club penguin is a massively multiplayer online game, involving a virtual world containing games and activities. That’s the technical term at least. But basically, it’s a game where you can create your own penguin and roam around the world that it lives in along with many other players.
The first thing that you have to do is make a penguin. You have to choose a color (don’t worry you can change it) and a unique name. I personally have created several penguins before. The one that I am using now goes by the name of MappleTree. I’ll put a picture of it right here:
You have to be really creative with these names because chances are, someone has already claimed it.
Now, once you’re in the game you have to select a server. They are titled many cute names like sleet, blizzard, and marshmallow. After you do that there is a big map of different spots that you can go to:
I would like to touch on some of my favorite places to go. Starting with the town. Here you can do many things such as go to a coffee shop, go to a night club, and go to a gift shop. At the gift shop you can buy different clothes, skin colors, backgrounds, etc. I personally love buying things from there. At the night club there is a dance floor and music. At the coffee shop are fun games and lounging areas. Here’s some pictures of the places:
Now, onto the next place: The plaza. Here you can go to the pet shop where you can buy a puffle. Then you can head on over to the theater to watch penguins reenact a scene, there you can buy costumes and put them on. Finally, there is the pizza parlor where you can play pizza games and get your order taken. Even though you won’t get actual food, it’s still fun to role-play with other penguins. Here are some pictures:
Next, I would like to tell you about the karate dojo. Yes, you heard me right the karate dojo. Is it really that weird for penguins to do karate, I mean kind of, but they have to pass time somehow. This place is very fun. It’s a card game where you pick a random elemental card to play on the other character and that penguin picks one for you. One card will overpower the other card, and after three rounds whoever has the most wins, well, wins! It is a pretty exciting game. As you go on you rank up in belts. Until, you get to the black belt and you face the sensei. Here are some pictures:
So those are some of my favorite places to go to club penguin rewritten. Overall, I give this game a 9/10. I feel like there can be some improvement, but overall the game is captivating. There are many other secrets that I didn’t talk about in the game. Like how there’s a whole secret agency, but you’ll just have to play for yourself and see how much fun it is. The game will definitely keep you there for hours. So go buy a puffle, make some pizza, and decorate your igloo!
About two months ago, I was on a hunt for a spiritual awakening! So, obviously I took to the social media to hunt for the best books that would teach me. I found a variety of books such as The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle, The Untethered Soul by Michael A. Singer. However, the book that caught my interest the most was The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success by Deepak Chopra.
This book is described as, “a practical guide to the fulfillment of your dreams.” I can tell you right now it is such more! Each chapter is a law that you need in order to live a life of success. However, to me they are more like golden keys that unlocks the door of growth. Even though the book only has seven chapters it is filled with so much knowledgeable information. So, instead of reviewing the entire book, every month I will review a new chapter and how I am applying it to my life.
The first chapter is titled, The law of pure potentiality. Chopra explains, very thoroughly I may add, how humans are pure consciousness meaning we basically have endless possibilities. He dives into the Self which is our own spirit and our own experience. This is a key I learned: Our Self is absent of ego. Ego is overall the bad side of you. You know the one that is obsessed with attention and other people’s approval. We will never reach success if our ego consumes our soul. Here are some quotes that I highlighted in this chapter:
“When you discover your essential nature and know who you really are, in that knowing itself is the ability to fulfill any dream you have, because you are the eternal possibility, the immeasurable potential of all that was, is, and will be.”
“In object-referral we are always influenced by objects outside the Self, which include situations, circumstances, people, and things. In object-referral we are constantly seeking the approval of others. Our thinking and our behaviour are always in anticipation of a response. It is therefore fear-based.”
This quote stuck with me deeply because I understood how pointless it is to be bothered by things that have nothing to do with me. Also, I realized I need to stop trying to control things. That is unnecessary stress upon my life. Control is just an illusion, it does not exist.
“When we experience the power of the Self, there is an absence of fear, there is no compulsion to control, and no struggle for approval or external power.”
“In self-referral, you experience your true being, which is unfearful of any challenge, has respect for all people, and feels beneath no one. Self-power is therefore true power.”
This is so important to learn and to study! Self-power is the true power and ego-power is temporary. Money, a high status, rewards, and fame is all temporary. Why do strive to have those things when they are all disposable?
“Wherever you go in the midst of movement and activity, carry your stillness within you. Then the chaotic movement around you will never overshadow your access to the reservoir of creativity, the field of pure potentiality.”
Carrying my stillness with me is something I have to practice to master. I often let my surroundings influence me when it becomes too much. But I feel like if I can carry my peace with me and let that influence me instead my life would be so much calmer.
Each chapter has steps you could do in life to apply the seven laws of success. For this chapter it’s meditating twice a day. Sit in silence and observe the nature of living. Lastly, practicing non-judgement. “I will begin my day with the statement, ‘Today, I shall judge nothing that occurs.'”
To be honest I try to meditate at least once a week. I believe if I made time to meditate twice a day I will have a more peaceful life. However, I get distracted easily because there is not a peaceful place I can meditate at on campus. There I go again making unnecessary excuses. You make time for what you want!
I may be slacking with meditation but I do sit in silence at least once a day. I recommend this to everyone. You experience things you would normal miss about nature. I do not have to always listen to music in fact I work better with no distractions. Mr. Chopra knew what he was writing when he suggested this step!
Stating I will not judge anyone in the morning is a reminder that I am not perfect and in no place to judge anyone. It is very humbling experience to check myself before others. My friends always joke when we catch ourselves talking too much mess we say, “You in her business… don’t do that?” To me that is the same thing as reminding myself not to judge lol.
This is a picture that I feel correlates the best to the law of pure potentiality. To me the woman in the bubble is in her own world which represents self-referral. The hand also represents self-power.
The next chapter is titled the law of giving. Tune in next month for an update!
On my quest to find a short story to read, I found the most interesting image of a man with two faces on his body. This picture immediately caught my attention and so did the title of the story, “Nettle.” Usually, I would try to read the entire piece of writing, but the story was too confusing two sentences in! This got me thinking…
How can I read something quick, understandable, but it will have me leaving with questions and questions?
Completely forgetting about flash fictions, I tried to continue my short story, but it didn’t work out, which is perfectly okay. Changing directions, I looked towards flash fictions to get my dose of reading from.
So, with that being said I have a really creepy review for you today.
Flash fictions are pieces of the moment, pieces that should be savored and enjoyed instead of rushed and long. So, after my short story search and fail, I found a website completely dedicated to flash fictions! The story that caught my eye is called, “ My First Day as a Stalker.” Yes, yes it does read as creepy as the title is. This particular flash fiction gave me “You” vibes.
If you know…you know.
The story opens with the narrator recounting his time watching his prey, Claire, a nice young woman. The narrator followed Claire throughout the day, telling the audience about what he saw her doing. He got so picky about what she was doing that he revealed everything she did; from the moment she got in the shower to the moment she got out. He watched her from afar and learned and observed her routine, so he could adapt to her and learn her ways.
Creepy right? It gets even crazier.
After a day’s worth of following Claire, the next day he went to the place she worked and said all the right things, inevitably getting Claire’s attention just from stalking her. Of course, he said all the right things…he took what she liked and desired and put it in his own mouth. In a non-creepy way, it was actually pretty smart of him in my opinion.
Now this story was not very long at all, probably no more than 500 words. It wasn’t the length of the story that got me, but rather the feeling I got after reading it. I even checked my windows and all places someone who could be hiding. To feel like someone is watching me just from reading a few paragraphs of a story is amazing. The story had a complete beginning, middle, and end and was very well rounded.
The content was there and on point. It interested me, hooked me in, and entertained me all at the same time. I wanted to read this story.
I will admit that a tiny bit of me wishes that the story could be extended, simply because I think even more detail about the narrator and what he saw while stalking Claire would enable the reader to get a greater sense of just how and why this man was stalking this woman.
In general, I wanted more. I wanted more time with Claire and her life without her knowing of her stalker. I wanted to know what made her so special. Alongside that, I wanted to know more about the narrator! I wanted to know why Claire was the one to him. What did she have that he didn’t not only want but need. I simply wanted more.
Considering it is flash fiction, I guess wanting more would cause a complete change of the nature of the story, which is what I don’t want to do.
The author of this flash fiction, A. M. Morrell, isn’t the most known author, but this story is truly captivating; I would love to see it as a movie or TV show!
Overall, I loved this flash fiction and will definitely be looking for some more on the website I found it on. This gave me the motivation to write the flash fiction I have been struggling with for a while now!
Inspiration truly does come from the most unexpected things!
Here’s the link to the flash fiction! I hope you enjoy it!
Note: I wrote this spontaneously during a bout of insomnia spurred by an overactive mind: the night before, I had finished a life-changing piece of fiction that liberated me from previous writing fears. It is abstract, messy, and different from my usual blogs, but it is relevant in its early morning authenticity. (:
I feel so much—more than I want, more than I understand. But I am nothing but alive. I feel the breath in my lungs, the black of the night, the reality of failure. I feel the light rain on my skin like a scintilla of some feeling; I feel everything.
Whenever the walls creep in too close for comfort, I escape into sky. I spend hours outside searching for sanctuary: I walk in endless circles until my ankles bleed, listening to lame music and mulling over deadlines; I spend hours lying in the grass, unbothered by curious insects; I drink my coffee in rocking chairs and think of nothing but the moment and the hushing of pain. I feel safe here, wrapped within the limitless depth of the ever-changing sky. I feel the soft blue reflected deep within me; I feel the clouds swallowing all of my apathy. I chase the sunset every evening, as I feel whole when the dying sun eats me alive with all of its desperate color. In those moments, I am. I exist, and that is enough. The light warms my skin, and I am revered, restored. This is plenty.
Life hurts. In so many ways, it does, and it hurts for everyone.
I attend one of the best high schools in Mississippi, and I love it. I have accomplished more than I ever dreamed of (and deserve), and so many more months remain. I near the precipice of my true beginning, of my own unapologetic existence in this vast, horrifying world, and I do not fear the strife that awaits me. In my dorm, I have two drawers overflowing with snacks, and I now have the ability to play “Jump” by Van Halen on random keyboards. I have dreams and aspirations, and I am balancing my stress with creativity. I am surrounded by people I care about, and I want so much. I want to succeed; I want to awake each morning; I want to be alive.
But my sleeping schedule lies in anarchic ruin. Every minor grade is directly connected to the state of my future. Radical changes manifest in every aspect of my life. I have no stability. I have no certainty. I know nothing but deadlines and stress and the need to escape. I want out of my skin; I want to rid myself of every worry, every doubt. An incessant river of chaos rushes within me, and I feel it bubbling towards the surface of my control. I feel so lonely or so crowded at times. And I long for my junior year: I never wanted it to end, and time felt so infinite as I indulged in every moment of this new adventure at MSA.
But I am alive.
There is something so powerful about resilience, about the will to adapt and overcome. And I feel this every time I submit an essay I panicked over, every time I close a hundred tabs. I feel this every time my head hits a pillow after midnight, every time someone smiles because of me. I am alive in this moment, and this is enough. The pain is necessary because it is a good pain—the kind that results from feeling too much and aching to accomplish more than humanly possible. It is trying.
Throughout the years, writing has served various purposes for me, but it has always existed as an escape. As I forget myself in my work, I feel the words escaping me, this year. I feel them growing more bold, more bare. Every piece is of desperation, for I am beginning to relinquish all that I have, all that I am, to the page. I am beginning to surrender to myself and my fear. I am escaping. I am no longer bound by the same insecurities. I am beyond myself and my fragile understanding; I am the words I speak. My fingers punch the keyboard, and I see myself for what I truly am: a living being. The stress evaporates, I slip into a comatose state, and I emerge hours later feeling not quite like before. This all sounds quite pretentious, but I am in love with slipping outside of my body and just being. I exist only as a writer in those moments (meanwhile, the piece is about tacos…HAH!).
You are more than your pain, your past. You are everything and more. You are indomitable. You are your own artist, your own home, your own breath. Fall in love with the little things, and you will feel full. Discover your own meaning, your own truth. Surrender. Trust in the strength of vulnerability. Learn to let your heart die, sometimes. Learn from everything that surrounds you, and you will understand. You will feel full.
I am writing this as our first week after hybrid comes to an end. To say this week was stressful is an understatement, and I don’t think I realized, until this week, how many hats I actually wear: student body president, RISE editor-in-chief, writer, student, daughter, sister, friend, cat mom. I do sometimes get overwhelmed and feel myself being spread thin. I know that I cannot give my all in everything and that it’s okay to say no and to give up control, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t still struggle with it. This week, my writing suffered. Sure, I had some very successful SGA meetings, launched a digital newspaper, planned some school events, did my school work, applied to college, hung with friends, and still managed to sleep, but at what cost?
I submitted a short story last week that was quite possibly the worst thing I have ever written. I have never been more ashamed of anything I’ve turned in. My friends tried to encourage me, but I know that it wasn’t my best work, and I feel like I let, not only, myself but my writing community down, and that is my biggest disappointment.
This week, we were challenged to just be poets and writers and create poetry, but I have to admit, it was one of the hardest assignments for me. We were simply told to write poetry, and I had to force myself to produce content. Writing has never been this hard for me, and I can’t deal. I feel like I am losing apart of my identity.
And if I’m not a writer, who am I?
During quarantine, I didn’t write. I wrote a single poem during the entire 6-month break. I blamed it on lack of inspiration, but with what’s going on in the world, there’s no way it was that. I think I just didn’t want to admit to myself that writing had stopped being fun. The thing that I used to love most had become a chore. I stared at blank document after blank document, watching the bar blink at me. It’s all I could do.
But, here I am, stuck in this funk, wondering when it will end. When will the joy return? When will the words stop being something I loathe?
When will the writer in me start writing again?
This was pretty candid and personal, and I normally write things like this in my journal, but I felt the need to share in case any others seem to have lost their writer’s voices too.
