{"id":21344,"date":"2025-03-26T11:28:10","date_gmt":"2025-03-26T16:28:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/?p=21344"},"modified":"2025-03-26T11:28:10","modified_gmt":"2025-03-26T16:28:10","slug":"changes","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/2025\/03\/26\/changes\/","title":{"rendered":"changes."},"content":{"rendered":"\n\n\n

hey everyone, when thinking about what i wanted to talk about this week, i found that no matter what i thought about, it all came back to me, and to me changing.  the biggest change i’ve been thinking about is college, changing where i spend my every day, who i see every day, and what i do in between the sun’s rising and setting. <\/p>\n

it’s not for certain yet, but it looks like im going to be going to the university of iowa. a place known as the university for writers but lately ive known if more for the fact that it is 12 hours away. 12 hours that seem to stretch and contort itself much farther than a plane ride or a days’ worth of bus and trains. stretching much farther from anything and everything that i have come to love. <\/p>\n

and i’m aware im kind of sounding whiney, i get to go to a school i think i’ll enjoy and hopefully ill make friends and a post like this will one day be nothing but an afterthought, but no matter how much i think i might enjoy it, sometimes i wish i could just skip it, go straght to the part of my life that i want to be in, back where im with the people i want to be in a place where i can be me, but what i’ve learned from that wanting is that it isn’t what i need.<\/p>\n

if i want anyone to come out of this blog reading learning at least one thing, i would want it to be that if the time you spend unhappy, anxious, or making mistakes was skipped over, you’d erase yourself. and i think this might be one of the few times in which i think i have my past to thank for something. because i know at one time, whether it was me struggling through middle school or freshman year, i wished that i could just skip over all of highschool, now i sit writing this blog at the end of my final year with only one or two more blog posts happy that I didn’t skip a thing. <\/p>\n

the last time that i took the time to write out something that i felt when it came to this subject was actually the last poetry assignemnt, maybe it is cheap to add in a poem that i already turned in but i think it has a lot to do with everything going on at the moment-<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

(p.s.)<\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the morning i came to visit,<\/span><\/p>\n



<\/p>\n

i took my shoes off at the door.<\/span><\/p>\n

down next to plants that had long <\/span><\/p>\n

since grown out of their pots,<\/span><\/p>\n

and weeds that had made <\/span><\/p>\n

themselves at home in the<\/span><\/p>\n

cracks of the front porch<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

i dusted off the handle of<\/span><\/p>\n

the old screen door<\/span><\/p>\n

and let the sound of it<\/span><\/p>\n

swinging open cascade and<\/span><\/p>\n

echo throughout my eardrums<\/span><\/p>\n



<\/p>\n

the morning i came to visit,<\/span><\/p>\n



<\/p>\n

i walked into an empty room<\/span><\/p>\n

that smelled of lavender perfume,<\/span><\/p>\n

smothered by mildew <\/span><\/p>\n

and cigarette butts<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the ghost of chandeliers hung in<\/span><\/p>\n

the form of wires protruding<\/span><\/p>\n

from the ceiling. the<\/span><\/p>\n

contents of each room  <\/span><\/p>\n

now either rest under white<\/span><\/p>\n

sheets or are sprawled out<\/span><\/p>\n

across the front lawn.<\/span><\/p>\n



<\/p>\n

the morning i came to visit<\/span><\/p>\n



<\/p>\n

i filled my bag with empty <\/span><\/p>\n

lipstick containers <\/span><\/p>\n

and picture frames,<\/span><\/p>\n

and layed down on your<\/span><\/p>\n

old mattress, battered and beat<\/span><\/p>\n

i tried to hear your voice in the <\/span><\/p>\n

chirping of the birds outside<\/span><\/p>\n

the window of what <\/span><\/p>\n

used to be your bedroom.<\/span><\/p>\n

and i tried to smell your smell in the air,<\/span><\/p>\n

i didn\u2019t smell a thing, even if i <\/span><\/p>\n

told myself i did<\/span><\/p>\n



<\/p>\n

the morning i came to visit<\/span><\/p>\n



<\/p>\n

i knew you had gone out for a while<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

After writing this poem I realized that all I have been doing is staring at wounds that had healed a long time ago without me realizing, and I think that is part of the beauty of change, and what took me the longest to understand. Sometimes change is just different, nothing more and nothing less. I’m scared of things changing because they might not be as good as they are now, but when it comes down to it think I changed a long time ago, as well as a few seconds ago. It honestly makes me think about this one quote from Jake the Dog I love,<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

“The shapes are always changing. Changing is their normal state, like us. Even if we’re not changing on the outside, we’re changing on the inside constantly. There’s some stuff about me that I’d been ignoring for a long time. I’m afraid of that stuff. But its part of who I am. As long as I know the shape of my soul, I’ll be all right.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"\"\"<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

hey everyone, when thinking about what i wanted to talk about this week, i found that no matter what i thought about, it all came back to me, and to me changing.  the biggest change i’ve been thinking about is college, changing where i spend my every day, who i see every day, and what … Continue reading “changes.”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":90,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5,3],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21344"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/90"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=21344"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21344\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":21377,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/21344\/revisions\/21377"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=21344"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=21344"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=21344"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}