Reason #8: Teachers

It was my Honors English Teacher of my Junior year of high school, Ms. Davis, who said that I should major in English, and it was her class that made me fall in love with the subject.

My first fiction workshop I took at Davis was with Julia Jackson. This is her last quarter at Davis, soon she'll be receiving her MA in Creative Writing. She's such a wonderful person. I kinda wanna be like her in a few years.

This quarter, my poetry fiction professor is Greg Glazner. Yesterday, some classmates and I went to his reading for his new book he also performed some songs he wrote. I was seriously impressed.

I never wanted to be a teacher, but seeing how some teachers have made an impact on me, makes me think that I shouldn't rule it out completely.

A Drop in the Ocean-Ron Pope (Lyrics)

[Sometimes listening to a familiar song can bring back a waterfall of memories. The power of music strikes your heart like a chord. Here's a song that did that to me today. -Miss M]

A drop in the ocean,
A change in the weather,
I was praying that you and me might end up together.
It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert,
But I'm holding you closer than most,
'Cause you are my heaven.

I don't wanna waste the weekend,
If you don't love me, pretend
A few more hours, then it's time to go.
And as my train rolls down the East coast,
I wonder how you keep warm.
It's too late to cry, too broken to move on.

Still I can't let you be,
Most nights I hardly sleep.
Don't see what you don't need, from me.

Just a drop in the ocean,
A change in the weather,
I was praying that you and me might end up together.
It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert,
But I'm holding you closer than most,
'Cause you are my heaven.

Misplaced trust and old friends,
Never counting the regrets,
By the grace of God, I do not rest at all.
and New England as the leaves change;
The last excuse that I'll claim,
I was a boy who loved a woman like a little girl.

Still I can't let you be,
Most nights I hardly sleep,
Don't see what you don't need, from me.

Just a drop in the ocean,
A change in the weather,
I was praying that you and me might end up together.
It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert,
But I'm holding you closer than most,
'Cause you are my

Heaven doesn't seem far away anymore no, no
Heaven doesn't seem far away.
Heaven doesn't seem far away anymore no, no
Heaven doesn't seem far away.

nooo
nooo

A drop in the ocean,
A change in the weather,
I was praying that you and me might end up together.
It's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert,
But I'm holding you closer than most,
'Cause you are my heaven.
You are my heaven

Reason #7: Mothers

One think to always be thankful for are Mothers. I cannot even put into words everything my mom is to me. My hero and my savior. If only she knew just how much I loved her. I just hate the fact our relationship isn't as close as I would like it to be.

The blame lies upon me.
I'm unable to communicate through our language and I'm not the daughter everyone hoped me to be.

I saw her for about five minutes today.

I decided not to go to the family dinner tonight. It may seem selfish not to go, but I think my presence there would just bring everything and everyone down. I don't want to ruin the holiday for her nor the rest of my family. Tonight, everything would be better if I did not exist, so I took myself out of the equation.

I hope my phone call and my unconditional love for her will suffice. Because that's all I have left of me.

Reason #6: The New and Old Relationships

Relationships must be reciprocated in order to form a long lasting bond. Therefore, those involved in the relationship both have to want it. That goes for all types of relationships: familial, friends, romantic, work, etc.

Growing up, you make a lot of different types of relationships, but you also lose some too. You learn to trust and at the same time you learn that people can betray you. Others can love you, while some break your heart. And the rest simply come and go. Nonetheless, all of the people that enter and exit your life make an impact on you.

"A Certain Lady" by Dorothy Parker

I'm currently working on a short paper about this poem. I decided to post it on my blog, because I'm sure everyone can relate.

A Certain Lady

Oh, I can smile for you, and tilt my head,
And drink your rushing words with eager lips,
And paint my mouth for you a fragrant red,
And trace your brows with tutored finger-tips.
When you rehearse your list of loves to me,
Oh, I can laugh and marvel, rapturous-eyed.
And you laugh back, nor can you ever see
The thousand little deaths my heart has died.
And you believe, so well I know my part,
That I am gay as morning, light as snow,
And all the straining things within my heart
You'll never know.

Oh, I can laugh and listen, when we meet,
And you bring tales of fresh adventurings, --
Of ladies delicately indiscreet,
Of lingering hands, and gently whispered things.
And you are pleased with me, and strive anew
To sing me sagas of your late delights.
Thus do you want me -- marveling, gay, and true,
Nor do you see my staring eyes of nights.
And when, in search of novelty, you stray,
Oh, I can kiss you blithely as you go ....
And what goes on, my love, while you're away,
You'll never know.

When it ends...

You finish reading a book and put it to the side, only to pick up another on your bedside table. Different names, but the same characters. Different titles, but the same stories. You run a mile, to simply run another. And another, until you've finished a half-marathon; but only to drive home to shower then sleep. When you wake up, you linger awhile longer in bed, wondering if this is the day.

The day everything changes. The day your career begins. The day you meet someone who understands what you're going through. The day you fall in love. The day where it all ends.

You throw your blankets to the side, get up, get dressed, and push away the thoughts in your mind that hang like a spider's forgotten web. The thoughts about your stagnant life, because that's all you've known. So why think of the day where it changes?

Stasis is better right?

Better than the nights you've spent hearing the screams down the hallway. Better than the days that were all lies. Better than the moments spent believing in broken promises.

You pick up another book, but you don't finish it. You place it in an empty box. The books unread accumulate. You tape the box, and grab another. And another, until you're in a room filled with boxes. You run without measuring the distance. You run until it's too hard to breathe. Then you walk home, gasping for air. You collapse into bed, too tired to shower, but eager to fall into another reality. When you wake up, you linger awhile in bed, and decide that this is the day.

The day everything changes. The day you start living again. The day where stasis ends.

You make your bed and fold your blankets, noticing what a difference it makes to the appearance of your room. You get dressed, make your favorite breakfast, and push away all of the yesterdays like they were all a distant memory. You're tired of the stagnant life, because that's all you've ever known. Might as well do something new.

Living is better right?

Better than the nights spent alone reading. Better than the days running to pass the time. Better than the moments spent thinking of the past.

You get into your car and drive. Drive towards your career. Drive towards someone. Drive towards love. Drive towards this changing day.

Reason #6: Education, Creative Writing, and James Franco

I am literally shaking right now. Maybe it’s from having four cups of coffee (when I usually just have one or two a day) or maybe I’m having an epiphany. My mind is racing, that I can’t keep track of all of my thoughts. I’m sure that it will show in this post, since this won’t have any logical order. It’ll just be pure thought. Stream of consciousness? Probably so. Virgina Woolf, it seems you have rubbed off on me. I can’t get out of my head it seems.

Another reason to live? Education. Doing something/majoring in something you love. I know I complain a lot about school. I want to be done with it like all of my friends who are just a year older than me (if I was only born one year sooner!!!!), but I’m not. I should take advantage of my last year and make the most of it. I had a midterm today about 20^th century writers and theory; after studying about all these dead writers, I realized I wanted to be one of them. Not dead, obviously. But a writer who matters. Who did something. Was a part of something. Anything. I always say I HOPE to be a writer, never having faith in myself or my abilities; but today I thought to myself, I WILL be a writer. I may not be the best, but damn I have a story to tell, and someone’s going to want to listen. I will be published, and if someone is moved by what I wrote, then that is success to me. That’s a life lived if I made someone’s life a little bit better by my words.

This week I’ve been constantly thinking about the future. Daydreaming and hoping. Well that’s enough of that, I’m gonna make it into a reality. Just you wait. For a while I wondered if I could really do it, write all my life… I thought of the long process of writing and editing, all the heartbreak that I would endure being rejected… but yes, I want it. All of that. The heartbreak, long hours of writes and rewrites. Words are eternal. I’m gonna get my words down.

I’ll have my own studio and library to create my books with big open windows… Yeah, I will.

So what brought this on? Well I’ve been obsessed with James Franco. Like seriously obsessed. My role models have always been my family: my mom and my sisters for all their strength and support; but now that I have committed myself wholeheartedly to writing, I had the urge to find a role model for my career. Which is…. JAMES FRANCO. He seriously does everything. I want to do that too. I won’t limit myself to just writing. I’ll do it all. Screen writing, directing, art. I admire his passion for education. It reminds me that I am lucky to learn. The grade doesn’t matter, only the knowledge that I get from the class. I don’t need a 4.0 GPA to write. I need to live life in order to write.  I want to and I am going to live life. I'll be the female version of James Franco (without the acting part).

One day James Franco, we’ll have coffee and discuss books, movies, music, literature, everything. We will be talked about when we die. We’ll make an impact. 

I love my major. Seriously. Writers are so cool and interesting, not to mention we’re just so weird in an awesome way.

I think of all the people I’ve met in class this past year and I realized… We are the next generation. Let’s fuck shit up (in a good way) and change the world. I may never see these people again, but knowing them for a little bit has changed my life. I want to remember everyone. Like Nich, one of the US bank protesters who gave me a hug right after we met (no one does that much anymore, I wish people did; and he totally looked like Will from Parachute), Olivia who I met this quarter in Telemark (having a good conversation, telling me about the senior thesis, and about herself), even the guy Orion who’s in all of my classes (who I find pretty intriguing), and everyone in my workshop class, like Summer, Ceaser, Ted, Lindsey, and Katie (to just name a few). Best of luck to all of us.

Now the most important thing: I’ve finally found a story idea for my first book. Something that I will commit to (not like all my other stories where I write a few pages and quit). The whole story idea came to me today in bits and pieces as I was running during my workout and walking to the ARC for a work meeting. I need a story board STAT!!!!

Life is amazing. And no, I’m not on drugs right now. :]