candy hearts

Heart shaped candy 

spells out emotions

love you, miss you, with you forever

I swallow those chalky words

words that once lingered on his tongue

sugary, sweet, artificial

A chalky crunch

A box full of font 

proclaiming love sick claims

I love you...not 

  

4 days

I miss you

No, I missed you 

Just by four days

60 seconds in a minute 

60 minutes in an hour 

24 hours in a day 

4 days 

too late

I multiply the moments 

resting my thoughts on times tables

I try to quantify, objectify, the reasons why 

I stayed

Why I didn't come home the second I heard

Instead, I stayed an ocean away 

I miss you

No I missed you

Just by 4 days

60 seconds in a minute

60 minutes in an hour

24 hours in a day 

4 days

too late

Start of something new..

I have set a new goal for myself: to write a poem everyday for the next year. Ideally I'll spend anywhere from 10-30 minutes per poem. In the end, I will have 365 mini poems which I can later edit/make legible and possibly even submit for publication. There will be no excuse for not writing. Not only will this endeavor force me to become disciplined and committed, but it will also help me grow tremendously as a writer. There will be no putting off writing because of homework, stress etc. Even if the poem is a short, incoherent babble about what I ate for breakfast, forcing myself to write will be mandatory. I start tomorrow, February 12; a completely arbitrary date, but a good one nonetheless. One more note: I will NOT be editing my poems. The point of this exercise is to consistently write for a short span of time every day. I can always go back and edit the poems that have the most potential. Here's to the next year. Cheers! 

Insomnia (and I'm not talking the cookies)

I guess the title says it all; I just can't fall asleep...

warm milk...tried it

relaxing music....tried it (I have actually made it through my "bedtime" playlist twice already)  

I'm at a loss. 

I wish my blog entries could tell tales of foreign travels and scandalous escapades (ok, perhaps not the latter...this is me after all)...But I read blogs written by friends studying abroad and I can't help but feel like my blog lacks any real substance. I also notice that I tend to write only when I have some sort of problem or general anxiety. I really have no reason to be stressed tonight. I have done all my work due Monday and Tuesday. What do I have to worry about? 

I guess the F word has been on my mind...Future that is...Haha! Geez, I love how my corny sense of humor can translate into writing. I feel like everyone generally knows what they want to do after graduation. Me? I'm still that freshman exploratory student who shows up to her 8am poetry class 20 minutes early because she doesn't want be late. Does anyone else still feel like a first semester freshman? I have to be reasonable though. I have grown up so much since freshman year. As much as I detest speaking in class, I am a heck of a lot better than I once was. I am definitely more confident in myself as a writer and as a student in general. In high school I genuinely thought I was a below average student. People here are surprised to learn I didn't do all that great back in the day. 

In all seriousness I can see I have grown and matured since I first set foot in Ithaca. I guess I just expected to know more about the direction my life would be heading in. 

Possible careers:

English professor

Speech pathologist

school psychologist

Editor/Writer

There are definitely pros and cons to all of the above career choices. I just wish I had more time as an undergraduate. If I could just continue to take English classes for the rest of my life I would be a very happy camper. The English faculty at IC has been incredible. Honestly, I would take Shakespeare over and over again. Van Wilder plan? Naaah. I do look forward to the future, I really do; I just don't know what's in store for me. Better too many options rather than too few. I know everything will work out in the end. All's well that ends well. uhh...darn I'm out of cliches for the moment...

While I don't know if there is anyone who actually readas this blog, I promise in the future to have at least a couple of upbeat entries. I promise, I am a happy person. Don't worry, be happy (Yes one more cliche!  :) )

Happy blogging! 

Tuesday night ramblings

Fear is like a giant fog. It sits on your brain and blocks everything--real feelings, true happiness, real joy. They can't get through the fog. But you lift it, and buddy, you're in for the ride of your life. 

--Defending Your Life 

Ahhh, now that's what I call an awe inspiring quote!

 Feel ready to go conquer the world?! 

Nah, I didn't think so. 

Truthfully, I feel as though fear has become a full fledged member of the lexicon of Sam Hewitt. Generally I am an easy going individual. I rarely yell and it takes a lot to evoke any real anger from me. It is when I am in the academic world that I become a full blown, type A personality, more high strung than a poodle on speed. Or coke. Which is worse? 

But I digress. Obviously fear of failure is a major component of my school related fear. No one wants to fail. On that same note, many wont continue to stress about grades to the point of losing sleep. Ugh. Freakin As. That stupid little letter at the beginning of the alphabet. Who knew that the same letter we associated with "apple" in kindergarten, would one day be A total pain in the Arse. I surely didn't. 

Truthfully, my fear extends past formal academic evaluation. What if I am just not smart enough? One can only do so well on hard work alone. Granted, I receive fairly good grades, but I can't really attribute any of my success to intelligence. I just read. A lot. I'm not that person in class who can just spout genius on demand. It's more like a trickle of perspiration, not brain power, that trickles down the back of my neck when I am asked to speak.  Perhaps that's why I have backed away from English over the years. My love of literature started my sophomore year of high school. The class read an essay about a pickle jar representing sexuality in Ethan Frome. An ordinary object represents all that?! From that moment on, I was hooked. I was determined to become an English professor/critic. I assumed my fear of speaking in front of people would diminish during my "life altering" years at college. Wrong. I am almost 3/4s of the way done as an undergraduate and I still lack the confidence to not only present in front of the class, but to simply raise my hand. I become shy. A bumbling fool. A stuttering shell of a girl. What on earth am I going to do in my World Lit seminar? The professor is a lovely woman and very understanding. She tried to abate my fears, but I couldn't tell her blatantly what my real fear were: What if I am just not as smart as everyone else? What if I am not good enough?

I can't help but think this post has become overly pessimistic and self pitying. I promise I do have at least one shred of self-esteem. It's just hard to see past fearful situations such as speaking in front of the class, or hell even haven't to teach half a class period (haha did I mention that part? Oh goodness what am I doing in this seminar?!) Maybe it's not about lifting the fog, so much as acknowledging it exists and moving past it. After all, what is fog but a translucent, highly permeable barrier, incapable of causing any real harm. Well..unless you're driving. Fog is definitely dangerous when you are driving, especially around cliffs... Anyway that's all for tonight. Cheers! 

*A small disclaimer is necessary. I have decide I edit way too much of what I say. True, I write a lot more candidly than I speak, but I mean it's still a bit ridiculous how many times I reread what I write. Therefore, aside from spellcheck, I am not editing this post AT ALL! I want to work on not being such a perfectionist and loosening the heck up! 

Introduction

I should probably provide some sort of introduction to this blog, but honestly I think everything will be pretty self-explanatory. Posts will be a combination of creative pieces (poems, short stories, etc) and more journal type entries. Despite my many attempts at creating a blog, I really want to keep this one going. While I am still not 100% confident in my writing ability, I like knowing (or rather hoping) that someone out there is benefiting from what I have to say. If I can make someone laugh or smile or even just feel something new, I have done my job. I am also a bit selfish; I like the idea of sharing my experiences through writing. 

Thanks for reading. Cheers!