Category: feelings

Growing Up and Avocados

maydaygaskarthLeave a comment

I’ve always walked a fine line of being perfectly healthy and utterly unhealthy.

I never drink soda, energy drinks, or coffee. I don’t like donuts because they’re too sweet for me.

However, I do have impulses to eat any and all food in front of me without any self control to stop, especially when it comes to binge-worthy snacks like chips or cookies, though I rarely buy them on my own. I always got excited for random road trips where we stop at McDonalds for McFlurries or fries. I never liked vegetables as a kid. I liked the basic ones like corn and carrots, sometimes peas or green beans, but I would be repulsed at the sight of an avocado back in the day.

But, lately, something has changed.

My family always said it’d happen eventually, that I’d eventually start liking the vegetables. I’d always say no to them when we’re out at restaurants and laughed at them for thinking I’d change. Vegetables were disgusting, weren’t they?

But the last several times I’ve had fast food, I’ve felt sick to my stomach and just thinking about having it makes me sick. I bought snacks today, but just a couple bites made me put them back in the drawer and I’ve had no desire to bring them out like I usually do. I’ve said no thank you to ordering desserts at restaurants and haven’t had anything else to drink this week except water and half a strawberry lemonade.

Photo Credit: delish.com

Then, there’s the vegetables. Brussel sprouts have become one of my top favorite vegetables and I get excited for them when they’re at restaurants. Whenever I go home and my uncle asks me what I want for dinner, I get more excited about asparagus than anything else and lately I’ve had a strong craving for guacamole, something I used to cringe at the thought of.

I guess it’s weird. I didn’t imagine the day I’d like avocados – or any other vegetable for that matter – would ever come, but it did. It might just be my taste buds changing, but I guess it’s just a part of growing up.

The C-word

mycountrythoughtsLeave a comment

“Easter-worshipers.” What does that even mean?  Yes, we were at church on Easter, but, no, that does not mean we are Easter-worshipers.  It means we are the scary C-word.

We did not go to a service to worship Easter, we were there to worship the day Jesus Christ did the unthinkable, unimaginable, impossible, and rose from the dead.

I did not sit in those pews to talk about the Easter bunny and think about the Easter egg hunt I would be helping out with later.  I sat in pews to talk about and worship my savior.

Those people whose lives were taken from them did not go to church that day planning to worship Easter.  They went there to hear about Jesus Christ and how he died on the cross for our sins.  They were there because they were the C-words or at least interested in learning about the C-word.

The C-word is not a bad word and I am tired of feeling like it is.  True C-words are the most loving people.  We are taught to love everyone and forgive everyone like God does.  Yet these past few years I have started to feel as though being a C-word is wrong and I am a horrible person.  And this past week, holy week, has made me scared about my future as a C-word with all the attacks on C-words.  The media can’t even say the C-word.

We are Christians and proud, so don’t be afraid to call us what we are: Christians.

The Other Night

localdreamerwithapenLeave a comment

I woke up under the stars the other night. There were so many and, though I couldn’t nearly see all of them, it reminded me of how pretty, plain beautiful our universe is.

I woke up on a slick rock in a canyon in Utah. I woke up a couple times that night, the rock was pretty slanted and not that comfortable, but I didn’t mind. Everything around me was too beautiful to mind being awake.

I woke up and my nose was cold. Aside from that, I was cozy in my sleeping bag, but the breezy fresh air made my face all cold. But, once again, I didn’t mind.

Photo Credit: farm3.staticflickr.com

I always forget how much I love camping. But then, when I go, I fall in love with it entirely. I love hiking for hours and watching the landscape change around you. I love having nothing to worry about other than making a good fire and finding water to filter. I love to not set foot into a building for days and I love waking up at night underneath the stars, being reminded of how pretty our universe is.

Of course camping can be stressful sometimes, like when the blisters on your feet are burning and you know you still have miles left to go or when you’re wearing all the layers you can possibly wear, but you’re still freezing in your sleeping bag. But, again, I don’t really mind those things all too much. The freeze-dried food, the soaked shoes, the farmer’s tan, it was all worth it once again. Because, the other night, I got to wake up underneath the stars in Utah and it was so beautiful.

can’t write

mycountrythoughts1 Comment
Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

I’ve written so many drafts trying to talk about this, but no matter what I write nothing sounds right.  This is not something I can write in one sitting.  The words have to be perfect.

It seems like no matter how many times I write it, it still sounds horrible.  I can’t even write this post where I don’t say what the other post says.

I can’t bring up what is in the other post because just bringing it up is not right to me.  Everything about it has to be perfect.

It will probably be the last blog post I write because that is how long it will take to perfect.  The thing I want to say is probably one of the hardest things I have ever written.  I don’t know how to not sound naive when saying it.

I hope that I can actually put it into words and that it is enough for him.

A While

localdreamerwithapenLeave a comment

It’s been a while since we’ve all been birds,

since we’ve embraced our cold grey skies,

photo credit: ak9.picdn.net

flapped our wings,

chirped a song,

scattered across the horizon,

with no care but its infinite existence.

It’s been a while since we’ve been wildflowers,

since we’ve sprouted with the spring,

mismatched our colors,

photo credit: cdn.pixabay.com

and lived within that beauty of simply living.

It’s been a while since

we’ve shot our birds

and mowed down our flowers.

It’s been a while since we’ve figured that

there’s a different way to live,

with scary grey skies and plain flowers.

It’s been a while since we’ve forgotten our ways,

our happy freedom and

our beautiful purposelessness.

It’s only now that we realize that

there’s no going back.

Warr;or

mypetlobster1Leave a comment

I think semicolons are beautiful.

The definition of a semicolon is a punctuation mark indicating a pause between two main clauses.

Semicolons are useful in writing and are taught in English class, but, to me, they are much more than a punctuation mark.

A semicolon is a moment where a writer could have stopped, but they decided to continue on.

I am the writer and life is the sentence. I write a semicolon because I could end, but I will choose to keep on going.

I have struggled in the past with self harm and this metaphor helped guide me through it and become the happy and healthy person I am today. Although I no longer struggle with the impulses to end my life, the semicolon metaphor still applies to me more than ever. The semicolon is most commonly equated to mental health, suicide, and depression. To me, this symbol can be applied to everything.

In life ,I strive to be the best I can. The best athlete I can be, the best student I can be, the best person I can be, the best friend I can be.

When I’m on a run and want to stop, I picture a semicolon. I have the power to stop, but I have the power to keep on going. I will keep on going.

When I see a person who is sad, I picture a semicolon. I could just keep walking, but I can help them. I will help them.

When debating between taking the easiest route or the route that is harder but strengthens you as a person, think of a semicolon and always remember:

You are the writer and life is your sentence. Embody the meanings of a semicolon and keep on striving forward.

 

Photo Credit: Dictionary.com

To a Stranger in Brooklyn Heights

faithfulomnivoreLeave a comment

Dear stranger in Brooklyn Heights,

I don’t know much about you, but I can infer some things.

I think you are someone who cares about your belongings.

Like your copy of Spoon River Anthology, for example.

Photo Credit: pinterest.com

I think you care about it because you stamped it twice – once inside the front cover and once inside the back.

Maybe you just didn’t want to lose it and for it to be returned to you if it ever did get lost. But, if that’s the case, how did it end up in a used bookstore in a town 3,000 miles away?

I would want to know which poems are your favorites, but it seems like you never read them. The pages are nearly perfect, despite being printed in 1962.

I wish I could ask you some questions.

How old were you when you bought it? How old are you now? Why didn’t you read it? How did it end up with me?

I don’t know who you are, but I want to say thank you. Your book that was originally sold for 95 cents is now my book that was sold to me for three dollars.

And now I have a story within a story, thanks to you.

I’m not sure if you still live in New York or if any of my assumptions about you were correct or if you’re even a person at all.

But just in case I was right, once I finish the book, I’ll send it back to you.

 

Cheating

mycountrythoughtsLeave a comment
Photo Credit: Pinterest.com

I sat in my chair sitting not believing what I had just heard.  Another student had just told me that you cheated on me the whole relationship and he’s pretty sure you left me for her.

I know it’s been a year and I happy in my current relationship, but for some reason, it stings a little.

Actually, it stings a lot.  I am no longer in love with you and still wonder why I ever was, but I still can’t believe it was all a game to you.  You were the first person I gave my full heart to, the person I trusted everything with, and the person I was ready to do anything for.

I wish you just told me so I didn’t find out from someone else or that you left me before you cheated because honestly, that would have hurt less.

If I would have found this out before I found my current boyfriend, I honestly don’t know how I would have been able to trust anyone again.  I am happy that I moved on and my current boyfriend taught me how much better men can be, but it stings to think about what you did and it’s going to be something I will carry with me in every relationship.

Although I am beyond happy now, I still feel that hurt and betrayal from you, like you stabbed me in the back.

growing pain

underwaterismyflyzoneLeave a comment

you’re either the one getting hurt or the one doing the hurting

when you grow apart from someone

such a weird thing

photo credit: pinterest.com

all the years of memories and love and

all the time spent together

suddenly condensed into a single moment when you realize

“we’re so different now”

“we want other things”

“we’ve both changed so much”

or condensed into the single moment where

you realize you simply just don’t see each other anymore

when you don’t have the time you used to for the person

when the reminders of them in everything become reminders of other people

all of the hours, months, years spent together

condensed into the single moment when you realize that you’ve grown apart.

A Place Behind the Hills

localdreamerwithapenLeave a comment

There is a place behind the hills,

behind the deep-dark forests and rocky roads,

Photo Credit: maureenness.com

where the trees are bright and the flowers purple.

There, storms are a pleasant breeze,

and the lakes are so clear you can see all the happy fish.

There, the sun rises at 5:30 every morning

and goes to set when you’re ready.

There, there are no downsides,

except for the cows’ bellies that swing as they walk.

But, to get there, you’ll need to run.

You’ll need to hike and climb and swim,

Photo Credit: jeremybatesbooks.com

but most importantly, you’ll need to run.

There are tall monsters and mean witches

waiting for you to stop and catch your breath,

waiting to hold you by your legs and arms

and never let you go.

So don’t catch your breath, not now.

Now is not the time, but the time will come.

Now, you must run past the monsters and witches,

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through the forests and along the rocky roads,

past the dark shadows that are hunting beside you.

But then, believe me,

there is a place behind the hills,

where the trees are bright and the flowers purple.

Where the only shadows will be of the lazy cows in the sunset.