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To Bumble

Whenever I’m confronted with a new daily post topic I always go straight to the dictionary definition just to see how else the word is accurately perceived. Obviously, when i saw ‘bumble‘ I couldn’t help but think of a busy bee, flying around, searching for honey in pink flowers. The poor thing! Blissfully unaware of how the humans fear it so! But then I looked at the word in terms of a verb: to bumble.

bum-ble (verb): to move or act in a confused manner.

This is when I realized: if bumble bees have received their name because of this very definition, then those honey-sucking terrors are not so different from myself.

Currently, I am moving through life in a confused manner. But if you have followed my blog these past few months, I suppose this isn’t news to you. My best friend Jamie describes it as being stuck in the “in-betweens.” Being in the in-betweens means you have a steady boyfriend but nothing too serious because you’re too young for marriage, you have a steady job but nothing to serious because you have just graduated college and this job is not in your field – only for experience, you also have a steady home… except it is with your parents and you’re desperately trying to be treated as an adult. It’s a rough stage. Nothing is settled. Everything is up in the air. And everybody around you keeps saying to enjoy it because “the 20’s are your best years” but how?

I’ve always had trouble with uncertainty.

Sincerely,
The Bumble Bee Sympathizer (I feel you, bees)

Blog

The Art of Pursuing Words

When I hear the word pursue, I commonly think of two things: careers and people. Then again, why wouldn’t I? What is more important than pursuing a career you love and/or someone you love? But if you look up the dictionary definition it literally means “to follow (someone or something) in order to catch or attack them,” and suddenly I’m wracking my head for a better word to put on my resume. Suddenly, I’m thinking about stalkers, predators, lions in the jungle pursuing their prey. Suddenly, I’m searching for a better word to describe the boy down the street who I thought I wanted to pursue but now; only want to know. I was going to say “have” but how possessive?

Isn’t it strange how words, something so concrete and definitive, never really come across the way you want them to? We rely on them so much and yet, they’re never really there for us the way we hope they’d be. The way we meant for them to be.

Poems

maybe i don’t fit into you the way i thought


i changed
my locks for you and put the keys under
your mat, you promised

they’d be safe but i haven’t seen them
since you invited me into your grasp

did you lose them inside of yourself?

i tore one out of my rib cage and
the other out of my side, the last one
came straight from my chest

i had to pick at my skin and scratch
underneath the surface but i felt
alive and my blood was

on fire with hurt and happiness
all at the same time for the sake of that
safety i so graciously gave away

to you so perhaps you should dig
deeper, check your hands and your hips and maybe
even your collar bones, check in all of the places

you have been hurt
before and if you find
that you are empty know

you have lost a part of me
while you were searching
for yourself

 

 

Blog

A Blogger Fueled by Emotions…

Recently, I was told I think more emotionally rather than rationally. It was a realization that was always there, I suppose, deep inside that explained a lot of things. Like why I never think before I speak because my feelings are immediate, why my writing is always fueled by sadness, and why I act irrationally when my emotions aren’t satisfied the way I want them to be. I never understood why, most of the time, I have regretted a lot of my actions and the things I say to people I care about wherever emotions are involved. But looking back on it now, after hearing that take on myself, I realized it was because I never had the time to think rationally. Because it’s true. Maybe I don’t think rationally at all.

It’s not a bad thing. But I’m taking it negatively because of how many times I seemed to have lost my mind when things were not in my control. I could blame it on my parents for giving me everything I have ever wanted growing up, but how cliche? This is my fault. This is my own fucked up thinking. This is my problem to fix.

This month is going to be really hard but extremely important. I have always viewed myself as a mature person but I have a lot of growing up to do these next few weeks. I need to learn how to be okay, behave reasonably, and more importantly not drag anybody down or push anybody away (even further than I already have) just because things are not in my control. I can’t make people feel the way I do, and I shouldn’t except them to. I have always been ashamed at how intensely I feel things whether it be love, dislike, excitement, etc. and now that I’ve figured out why that shame exists, I have to push it all away. I have to be rational in this pivotal moment.

 

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Where to Begin – For Someone With Minimal Talent

Where to Being – For Someone With Minimal Talent

Lately, I’ve been especially struggling with several different aspects of my life. I say especially because although I have struggled before, it was never with things as important than this, or at a time more imperative than this one. Career, relationships, discovering what makes me happy in general, you know, typical worries for a 22 year old to have and that every adult swears will “sort itself out if you are patient.” Here’s the thing, though: I am not.

If I told you how many times I’ve tried to start a blog, a journal, a short story, really anything to do with writing for that matter, you would laugh in my face and probably tell me I am just not passionate enough. If I was, maybe I would’ve finished something by now. Maybe I would have kept up with that journal or finished that story or just flat out did anything I said I was going to do. However, not only am I impatient: I am a wanderer. Not in a dreamlike, romanticized, kind of way. I’m usually very present. But my passions wander constantly, taking a pit stop and different destinations until it becomes too comfortable or scared and has to flee.

I want to be a writer. I want to publish books. I want to take pictures. So I do these things on a whim and then I stop. The destination didn’t get old for me, I just didn’t feel good enough for it. So here’s me expressing that I am going to get better. Everything still terrifies me, I still don’t think I am creative enough to over come it, but I am going to try.