My thoughts on life.

Archive for the category “Panic”

Do I Really Look Good?

Insecurity is something that every person faces. Sometimes it’s a man worried about his bald head, and other times it’s a woman worried about her weight. However, what I am discovering about my own insecurities is that they come from a place much deeper within my psyche than I ever imagined. After a few things have happened to me in my life, I have a great fear of abandonment. Usually, I handle it quite well. But here recently, it has stepped up to the plate and keeps hitting inside-the-park home runs.

Insecurity, for me, is the worst internal conflict to go through. I am an extremely confident person who has worked very hard for everything that I have and everything that I stand for. So to be crushed like a little girl (no offense to any little girls who read my blog) by a single statement, tweet, or text message always gets to me; it slams me down to the ground.

“Each one of us requires the spur of insecurity to force us to do our best.” -Harold W. Dodds

The thing that bothers me the most is that I was an extremely insecure individual for my first eighteen years of life. I monitored everything I said, how I talked, what I wore; I was always conscious of how I was coming across to others. Enter college: I finally had a chance not to worry about what others might say or who they would say it to. So I let go of those insecurities; I was myself.

Now being back home for the summer, not being around all my amazing friends, getting thrown back into an environment where I feel like I have to fit a mold, those same insecurities I buried are starting to resurface; I hate it. I am determined to be me. Plain and simple, I will continue to be myself and if doesn’t make everyone happy then that’s fine; it’s my life anyway, right?


My Imaginary Friends Are Mute

I have some tragic news to tell my handful of followers. It is something that has haunted me for months now…writer’s block. (Dun Dun Dun)(Camera quickly zooms in on a woman who is unknown to the audience sporting a confused and scared face.)

Yes I have fallen, yet again, to the monster that lives in my blank word document; it seems to be a recurring theme for me. This pattern of having a month of strong ideas, creative characters, interesting and diverse scenes to only be pushed aside by two months of nothingness is starting to get old. I mean, seriously, you would think that creating a piece of fictional magic that envelops the reader in the world of the author would be easy, right?

Since November, I have wanted to write a novel. One that would incorporate a character going through immense changes of self-discovery, treacherous emotional warfare, experimental love, and finally a huge cathartic release of the soul. However, it is much easier for me to describe the type of book I want to create rather than the book itself. I have had at least twenty of thirty complete story ideas and have written pages upon pages of dialogue, scene, and character descriptions only to be left wanting more.

I think I have built up too high of an expectation. I have created this idea that there is an American classic sitting somewhere in my head, and that it is my job to get it out. However, nothing I write is living up to my own harsh critiques. As a result, my entire creative process has tuckered out from exhaustion like my ten year old dog that has hip dysplasia.

Hopefully, by the summer’s end, I will have more of a focus, more of a vision, as what this book will involve, and I can begin my writing and kill this writer’s block.

The Morning Run

Today I decided I would post a short story I wrote in the beginning of the semester for my creative writing class. It’s only a page and half in length and the requirements were that two or more characters had to find something. Hope you enjoy!

The Morning Run

As the morning fog was lifting from the tree littered hilltop, the rhythmic beat of footsteps gained momentum as the popular running trail had a brief moment of decline. Between the panting of breaths a Yellow Warbler could be heard as he sung his refreshing song. The hues of purple perpetuating from the lilacs on the forest floor gave warmth to the cold, sometimes unforgiving, ground. The sunlight hitting their foreheads made the beads of sweat glisten and twinkle. The beating hearts soothed their souls; it gave them an escape. It was the perfect day for running.

“Stop,” yelled the lanky girl with thick curly brown haired pulled into a tight ponytail. Her demand was successful as the drumming of sneakers against the dirt came to a sudden halt. Standing only a few yards in front of her was her partner, a boy, whose physique resembled that of a professional athlete. He did his best to hide his longing for oxygen. Sweeping his sweat drenched hair to the side of his face, he blurted mockingly, “You tired already?”

“Not as tired as you are,” she snapped back with a smile.

The boy started in, “Well, aren’t you something special.” His tone oozed sarcasm. “Just because you have an award…”

The boy was interrupted. He glanced at the girl as she let out a gasp that laid a blanket of silence over the woods. The girl was peering into a thistle bush as the boy approached her to investigate.

“Look here,” she grimaced as her hand immerged from the gnarly branches. She was holding a running watch. It was all black with great design and light as to not be bothersome for the longer distances.

Before the boy could mutter a response, still holding the watch, the girl began to cry and those few droplets transformed into a surge. She fell to her knees as the salty tears flowed from her grieving eyes. She was struck with guilt.

In that moment, the boy out of insecurity snatched the watched from her hands. As he examined the watch, he knew why the girl was crying. He had seen a watch like this before. He remembers how its twin sits on the girl’s dresser, memorialized by the picture of her deceased father. Her father taught her the secrets of distance running. Her father wore that watch with its eerie similarities to the one found.

“Give it back! Give it back to me,” she pleaded. “Give me the damn watch!”

As the boy, struck with anguish and helplessness, reached out with watch in hand, he couldn’t help, but begin to grieve with her. The girl whose sadness overwhelmed her now grits her teeth in anger. She seizes the watch and with all of the strength in her feeble arms pitches it into the air. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she does her best to repel the memories, the sorrow, but mostly, to repel the guilt.

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Sorry, My Brain Just Farted

Have you ever been sitting on a bus, next to a very attractive person, when all of a sudden you smell something awful? You try to avoid the smell, you really do. You desperately want the smell to go away because that girl/guy was perfect until you smelled them. You smile, and put on your best poker face trying not to let them know that you smell the remnants of his/her lunch. However, no matter how hard you try you have to distort your nose, hold your breath, and shift to a position with your face as far away as physically possible. Sometimes though, even with your best effort, the persons next to you realize that their secret has been discovered.

Yes, what I am describing to you is a brain fart. You know, that awful thing that happens when you’re in a conversation with someone perfect and you have something so great to say, but in the middle of thought your mind goes completely blank. It is an embarrassing thing that leaves the stench of stupidity. You want to run, but you sit there and do your best to fight through it.

Question: If you could live forever, would you and why?

Answer: “I would not live forever, because we should not live forever, because if we were supposed to live forever, then we would live forever, but we cannot live forever, which is why I would not live forever,” – Miss Alabama in the 1994 Miss USA contest.

Why do we call this slip-up what we do? Brain fart. I would like to know who was in conversation one day saying, “Oh, yeah I know. I can’t believe that………um….um..Sorry, my brain just farted…whoopsie.” What was the reaction of the person on the other end of that conversation? How is forgetting a memory anything like passing gas from your body? It scares me that someday archeologists will dig up some piece of our history and find out that we used the phrase “brain fart”. I can only imagine futuristic scientists huddled around their lab benches trying to figure out how this blob of tissue could have gas exchange through our skulls.

“It isn’t pollution that’s harming the environment. It’s the impurities in our air and water that are doing it” – Al Gore, Vice President

Brain farts haunt college students constantly. Their lack of sleep, poor nutrition, and high caffeine intake make college campuses reek of forgetfulness. Often, while taking a test and sitting in a crowded auditorium, the college student will have an idea of great potential. This idea would not only ensure a passing grade, but would revolutionize the entire learning process. These ideas can be understood in fractions of a second, however, they can leave the mind one hundred time faster.

The worst part of the brain fart is the bombardment of information back into your brain hours, sometimes days, after it was needed. It is a slap in the face, as if to say, “Yeah, I know the cure to this disease, but I’m not gonna tell you.” Why brain fart? Why do you pick on me so?

If I ever address a problem in theses blogs that I personally struggle with, I will always try to give the best advice I can on how I solve the issue or justify it. I don’t think that brain farts can ever be prevented; they happen. No matter how much we don’t like it, it happens. However, I think that, for the majority of the time, we can play it off as part of the conversation. Also, try Gas-X. If it helps at the bottom, it probably helps at the top.

“If we don’t succeed, we run the risk of failure.” – Bill Clinton, President

I Deserve A Break

Um..I think I am just going to write this blog later. I can always work out tomorrow. I could probably wait a couple of days before I NEED to start studying for the exam. I deserve a break. These thoughts, or thoughts like them, run through my head all day now that I am on my own. Procrastination is something I think many people struggle with in their day-to-day lives. So much so, I am pretty sure the American Medical Association declared it a disease(Don’t quote me on that). Whether or not it is a medical issue, doesn’t seem to dampen our moans and groans when it hits us in the face; when it cause us to stop everything we’re doing.

“Procrastination is something best put off until tomorrow.” ~Gerald Vaughan

So what are the symptoms of this silent killer, you ask? At first you are extremely motivated, in fact, you would never know that some evil was lurking around the corner. However, once you are content with actually doing the work it is too late for it is nothing but a lie that your body believes. Second, while starting the project, you start thinking about how long it will take to actually finish the task in its entirety. After working very hard for thirty minutes, you decide that you should reward yourself for putting your name at the top of the page and remembering the date without looking it up. So, the social networking sites grab your attention and hold it for ransom. Two and half hours later, once you’ve found out Theresa’s baby’s name, the type of tattoo Jimmy got, and the color that your aunt chose to paint her living room; you can move to picking out the “right” song to help you work faster. As if  John Legend is really going to help you solve the Calculus problems. And so, the cycle will continue and continue until there seems to be no hope.

Children, you can stop crying. Random woman in the street, you can stop screaming. Mob, holding pitch forks and fire, you can get back to other mob things because I found out the secret thing preventing the procrastination monster from making you another victim in its path to world domination. The trick is to fight fire with fire. Although, water with water would work too. We need to procrastinate procrastination.

Whether you or I like it or not, we are nothing more than our minds and our will power. So if procrastination takes our will power, our aimless minds are left there to fend for themselves. So procrastinate procrastination by allotting the same amount of time you would normally visit the social sites, watch T.V., trim your fingernails, or whatever else you would do. However, do it all at once after you’ve accomplished your task instead of taking “breaks” throughout. That way you still get want you want, and I find it relaxes you right before bed which translates to more sleep.  It also helps when you’re not stressing about all the things you failed to do because you were to busy looking at what J. Lo was doing on her Wednesday afternoon.

I am no doctor, but I believe this tip will help you; I can say this because I have applied this trick to my life. Although, I am writing this blog at 4:30 in the morning instead of doing a Biology lab due later in the day. After all, I do deserve a break.

“Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.”~C.G. Jung

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