Tag Archives: love

A Very Bronco Christmas

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I wrote a lot today.  I’m not one for giving gifts.  I just can’t bring myself to buy things–even if it is for other people.  So I write personal letters.  I ended up writing four this morning.  I only have three left to write.  I’m going to do my best to write them tonight; I like the idea of resting during Christmas Eve and Christmas.  It’s starting to feel a lot like Christmas.

I’m watching the Broncos kick butt right now.  This will be their 10th win in a row.  I am going to miss watching them when I am in Morocco.  I mean, the game is fun.  But it’s a great way to spend time with my father.  I will definitely miss that.  Well, 22 days to go until I leave.  I’m trying to cross at least three items off my to-do list today.  Today it went from 41 to 37.  I need to keep it up.

Here are today’s poems.  They’re getting better.

4 Waves, 1 Finger

Don’t Give a Damn

I Can

A Month Without Her

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I spent a month (Oct. 20 through Nov. 20) falling in love with a girl who lived 1,300 miles away from me.  It was easily the best month of my life thus far.  Now it’s been a month without her.  It’s been strange.  It not like I think about her everyday.  No.  That would be easy.  I find myself thinking she would make each destination in my daily life so much better–so much fuller.  Some days are easier than other–but some days are downright lonely without her.

I’m moving forward in going to the Peace Corps.  Which means another 800 days without her.  The idea frightens me.  I know I asked for this by letting myself fall in love with her so soon before leaving the country.  The thing is, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.  Period.  The time apart will be impossible.  It’ll teach us much about ourselves and each other.  It may rip us apart.  But it may make us stronger.  I do not know the future.  All I know is that, right now,  I see no other option.  The Peace Corps is where my life has been pointed for years.  With it finally on my doorstep, how do I walk away?  What kind of life will be waiting for me if I do?

The internal conflict burns inside of me as–each day–I read over more forms and learn Arabic.  It’s like I’m living two lives at this point.  At some point, one of those lives will have to fall into a hibernation–hoping to be reawoken in the near-future.  At this point, I expect that to be the life with her.  I do not like that.  I hate that that is going to be my decision.  I try every day to re-imagine what life would be like if I stayed in the states….but it’s getting harder and harder to see it.

This blog is going to transform in the days, weeks, and months ahead.  As I make the transition to living overseas, it will remain my writing blog.  But it will also take on the aspects of a Peace Corps Journal.  Although I am not legally allowed to share my specific whereabouts or doings, I will be able to share my personal thoughts and writings.  That will not change.

I have much from my teenager years that I still want to upload before I leave.  I think I need to up it to three per update.  Here’s today’s batch of poems from nine years ago:

One Thing Left

What It’s All About

Our Autumn Fall

 

30 Days Out

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With 30 days until I leave for Morocco, two things are on my mind.  First and foremost is the girl I am set to leave behind.  I know I’m going to leave my family and friends behind…but I don’t entirely regard that a bad thing.  Although I will miss my friends and family, I know they will be here for me when I get back.  When it comes to romance, life works a little differently.  We know full well that we can’t ask each other to wait.  It really isn’t sane to expect a 27 month long-distance relationship to last off of a one-month romance.  A part of me desperately doesn’t want to risk losing her.  That part want to stay behind.  The other part of me reminds me that everything I’ve ever wanted (except romance and a family) is offered by the Peace Corps.  Ambitious friend.  Helping people.  Travel.  Help towards a great job.  I can not expect either of us to wait…but I can hope.  Still, I cannot help but imagine my life if I decide not to leave her.

One other thing is on my mind.  Arabic.  I am not great at languages.  In 30 days, I will be thrown into an intensive 8-week course where Arabic and the culture of Morocco will be taught.  I need to get a good head start.  In order to get going, I am going to force myself to work on it every day until I leave.  Today is focused on skowering the internet for ideas on how to start learning the language.  Tomorrow will focus on buying a couple language books (and a tourist book of Morocco) so that I can get a real start on my studies.  I will let you know how it goes.  I may even try to write some Arabic poems or Haikus.

Here is today’s update from my teenage past.  Some of these poems are a bit embarrassing (this one included).  It almost looks like I wanted it to be a song rather than a set poem.  It sounds like a crappy pop song.

True Love

Why Haikus Make Me Smile

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I miss your eyes—and
waking up to see them there
looking back at me
–Sofia

There is something beautiful in the way Haikus work.  I’ve written poems, flash fiction, short stories, and novels.  But now, thanks to a lovely lady in my life, I am finding the beauty in Haikus.     They capture the same thing I hope to capture in all my writing–the emotion of the moment.  With a Haiku, however, we are limited to 17 syllables (5,7,5).  It is the perfect tool to force a writer to be concise.  I think it will be a great tool for me.  I have become much more precise in my writing over the past three years.  This will force it even further.

Today, after a shortened day of work, I am getting back to work.  I was able to write almost 1,300 words today.  I need to break the 1,00 mark today.  Unfortunately, as I develop this story, i know full well that I will not be able to share much or any of what I am writing for years to come.  That is okay.  I will continue to update my old poems and writing in the weeks to come.  It’ll be enough to hold you over until the writing blog also becomes a travel blog.  Here is today’s poem:

The Sight of You

Don’t Fret. Just Write.

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I spent a good deal of time last night wondering how I was going to write my current story.  I worried that I didn’t know how to do it right.  I worried about the order the story should go in.  I worried about this and that.  In the end, I pretty much gave up on figuring it out.  Instead, I just wrote.  It may not have come out perfectly, but it came out.  I got 500 words on paper last night.  So far this morning, I’ve already put another 500 words down.  The story is starting to come together.

Today’s poem is a special one for me.  I wrote it second semester of my 8th grade year.  I had a huge crush on a girl in my class.  I had no idea how to tell her.  Instead of gathering up the courage to talk to her, I gathered up the courage to give her a poem.  I printed it off and slipped it in her locker during the last week of classes.  She never made any mention of the poem.  But, after that, I had a small amount of courage that made it easier to talk with girls I like.  This poem is my introduction to romantic life in High School.

Speak of a Sin

 

Force Yourself to Write–Every Day

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After the long work week, I am caught up on sleep.  I spent last night caught up in a fascinating (and disturbing  conversation with one of my closest friends.  We spent more than an hour talking about what we would do if we were eccentric billionaires.  Are basic conclusion would be that neither of us should ever come into money because we would use it to create strange social experiments.

I failed to write–yet again–last night.  I need to start forcing myself.  With only 44 days until I leave for the Peace Corps, my time is short.  I want to finish the rough draft of what I am working on before I leave.  That means a 1,000 word daily minimum is necessary.  I will start this evening.  I get back from Denver in the afternoon and have plenty of free time after that.  I need to force myself to make this happen.  Here is another poem from my 14-year old self:

The One Thing the World Needs

 

More Work to Come

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I am exhausted.  I’m starting to reconstruct this website the way it should have been all along.  It’s starting to look much better.  I can’t wait until I start getting certain parts done to show off to all my followers.  By the way, we just hit 90 WordPress followers today!

I am going to go have fun for a few hours.  As a result, I will do all my writing and reading tonight.  I am going to re-implement the 1,000 word minimum to my daily schedule.  I will do that tonight.  Somehow my mind develops better prose when it is dead tired.  [As long as I am not to tired to write at all.]  I am also going to start working on a new book.  This one is one I have tried to read many times, but failed due to a busy schedule.  Homepully that is not the case this time.

Enjoy another poem:

All That Matters

End of the Work Week

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I spent the last four days in a Elementary School Severe Special Education classroom here in Greeley, Colorado.  It was exhausting  but amazing.  It looks like I’ll be holding onto the same assignment for at least part of next week.  For now, however, the work wee is officially over.  It’s long overdue.  I am sore and quite tired.  I will sleep well tonight.  But, before then, I have some writing to do–and a fun weekend planned.

I am going to work on the remodel a little bit then write for a little bit.  As promised, I am going to continue providing you with poems from my teenage year.  This one is from the end of 2003.  Most of my angsty poems will be from 2004.  Most of them are rather simple, but they are still enjoyable.  Here you go:

A Life Without Love

 

Complete Remodel

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This always happens.  Every time I think of something cool that could spice up my blog, I end up biting off far more than I can chew.  It doesn’t matter.  It will be well worth the effort.  I am redoing the site by time rather than by type of writing.  It seems to be a better way to present myself and my writing   This way, when you read poetry from my teenage years, you’ll better understand why it is angsty.  It’s also the best way i can think of that shows how my craft has improved over time.

If you are looking to read any of my work, I would recommend looking through blog updates for now.  The navigation bar is going to be pretty much useless until I finish my work–which will likely take at least a week.  As I prepare the new website, I will be updating once or twice a day with old poems and stories.  Here is one of the oldest poems I wrote.  I was 14 at the time–just finishing up my first semester as a freshmen in my small high school.

And Then

50 Days Out

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I got back from Washington about 14 hours before Thanksgiving Dinner.  Now, as the Holiday Weekend comes to a close, I find myself with a score of decisions and realizations.  With 50 days left before I am scheduled to leave for Morocco with the Peace Corps, there is plenty to figure out in a short amount of time.  For the first time in my life, I am coming to a crossroads where straight is no longer an option.  I must make a hard decision.

Although I do have more pressing matters to think and write about, the one I spent today on seemed appropriate.  I have been mulling over the idea of home for more than a month now.  I finally found the words to articulate the feeling that has been grown inside of me.  I hope you enjoy it.

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