when i write...

When I write, I hope that my words can keep up with the multiple thoughts jumping into my head. When I write, I try to remember why it is that I loved writing when I was younger, and why now I never feel like my words sound good enough, strong enough, or thought out enough.

In 3^rd grade, my teacher pulled me aside one day and demanded that I admit to having plagiarized my book report. I didn’t even know what the word plagiarism meant, but I knew I was in trouble, and I knew I had done nothing wrong. I honestly denied my guilt, but even after a conference with my mother she was not convinced. The writing contained too few mistakes and grammatical errors, and had a ‘voice’ strong enough for a much older student.

In 4^th grade when I turned in my first written assignment, I was not accused of plagiarism. Instead, I was moved into the 5^th grade reading and writing class. When I write, I try to remember what motivated and inspired me to write in the past, and I attempt to bring that feeling back to life again, but I rarely succeed.

At some point during middle school, despite encouragement and enthusiasm from my teachers, writing lost my interest. I went from carrying a journal everywhere, to only picking up a pen when it was mandatory. Then people stopped pushing me to write, so I stopped pushing myself. By the time I realized I missed writing, I felt as if I had fallen out of it completely. The strong writing ‘voice’ my teachers had discussed so frequently, seemed to have been lost amidst everything else, and I never took the time to even rustle some papers around in hopes of finding it.

Suddenly, I want to find it again. During the day, hundreds of thoughts shoot into my head in the form of paragraphs, books, and articles. Unfortunately, they seem to jump out of my head, just as quickly, before I even get the chance to pop off my pen cap. I often wish that I had a voice recorder taped to the inside of my brain, to record every one of these thoughts before they disappeared into the black hole of my head. If that were the case, I would probably have at least 10 novels written by now. I am trying to learn how to catch these sneaky thoughts before they disappear, hoping that one of them will contain my ‘voice’ and lead me back on track.

I never draft or outline as suggested when I write. Instead I try to let my thoughts flow freely onto the paper, ready to be rewritten and edited later. In my mind, writing is like watching a waterfall in action. My hands like the water spilling across the rocky keyboard. Outlining is like creating an obstacle course for something not meant to be contained or controlled. I find it much easier to filter it out once its reached the end, rather than interrupting the flow continuously during the process.

When I write, I grasp onto anything running through my brain, and then attempt to follow it through to the end without stretching it out to far, or letting it get away to soon. I try to let my writing speak for itself, and to let everything I know and am learning, find its place somewhere in the passage.

i love...

i love symbolism. 

sometimes, i just can't stop thinking about it, as my friends will constantly complain. 

symbolism seems to give me reason to find depth and meaning in coincidences and mistakes.

 like what i imagine faith would feel like. 

it provides something to believe in. 

something i can use to prove to myself that the cycle of life does in fact prove a purpose. 

i love movies based on books.

i always read the book after i watch the movie.

(if i do it the other way around, im usually disappointed)

i like to see how hundreds of peoples interpretations of one book, combine to create a million pictures that you watch flash before your eyes as words are brought alive.

then, i like to read the books, to see how one authors imagination created so many different and complex ideas. 

its like a huge puzzle in my head, and all the peoples opinions are the pieces. 

then i can take ym own opinions and interpretations, and fit it in where the pieces from the jigsaw are missing...

and suddenly everything makes sense.

A View of the Sky

Recent high school graduate

A shopping mall

After a thunderstorm has passed

Reminiscing on how things have changed

The assignment was to use the character/ place/ thoughts/ etc. and write a short story around what was provided. I decided not to plan it out at all, not that i usually do, and to just see what happened. this is what happened. 

You know how the sky is after a huge thunderstorm. The clouds drift in their own directions, splitting the sky, and surrounding everything with a deep blue glow. Sometimes it looks as if heaven were opening up right in front of you. I wish I could be sucked up into it, heaven I mean. Not that I want to die and go up there, but the sky just looks so inviting, as if a pair of arms is about to reach out and grab me to bring me up, and I wish they would. I could stare up at a sky like that for hours, just waiting hopefully for those arms. Well its one of those nights tonight. But I’ve decided to not waste my time staring at the sky, since those arms have never showed themselves, although once I swear I saw an arm hair glittering off the sun. So instead, I’ve stuck myself somewhere where I can't even be tempted by the sky and all its temptations. I’m sitting in shopping mall, specifically in the food court. I often worry about the people who willingly decide to go to shopping malls. No silence or peace, all chaos and commotion. No privacy or space, and definitely no fresh air. Every other corner smells like crappy Chinese food samplings or receipt ink. And there’s never a view of the sky. I’m here because I'm worried that if I'm anywhere with a view of the sky, I might just attempt at jumping into it. After all these years of temptation I’ve been able to hold back, but its getting harder and harder. Especially now that I have nowhere else to go. Well, that’s not completely true. I’m not homeless or a runaway. I have a job (part time) but since graduating high school (as of two weeks) and still not having any idea what I'm doing with my life now, jumping into the sky sounds like one of my best options. I guess it’s a bit of a hyperbole to say that malls have no view of the sky. I just realized that I've sat myself under one of the few skylights in the food court here. I guess no matter how hard I try to separate myself from temptation, the sky will always find me. On the other hand, I'm the one who sat down here, so maybe I'm the one who’s always finding the sky. 

at my fingertips

i decided to start this blog because i wanted to start writing again. when i was younger i was writing constantly. you wouldnt be able to find me without a notebook at any point in my life up until around 8th grade. i guess i sort of fell out of it. got bored with the mundane and fruitless creative writing assignments assigned at school, and my own mind seemed to filled with other tasks to be able ti even squeeze out a sentence let alone a journal entry. so i started a blog, thinking that since im on a computer half the time anyways it would be easier. i didnt realize that it wasnt about whether writing was easy or not, it was just about motivating myself to do it, which seemed impossible for some reason. but now i think im finally feeling some motivation. 

keyboard at my fingertips; nothings stopping me.