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Thursday, November 29, 2012

Delving Into My Mind


I’ve just been thinking about writing a lot lately and how as a writer you want to write down what goes through your mind. Otherwise it’s constantly there trying to break free of your mind to be on paper. But that’s not always enough, sometimes it doesn’t stop until you share it with someone or put it out there for several others to see. This happens a lot with me because I want to know what others think of my writing. If I go back to read it, the words still paint a vivid picture of what is going on or being said. But I sometimes wonder if that’s how it is for others who read it. If it isn’t, I want to know so that I can become a better writer and be able to captivate them in that way.
           
But then we come to the issue of what if some of the stuff I write is considered inappropriate or offends someone? I know that there are some stories that are supposed to get some sort of emotional response from the reader. That is to help them feel connected to the story. But what about a piece that is maybe a bit risqué or even very opinionated? While I may write it down, I don’t know that I would ever feel comfortable sharing it with others.

I have also heard that writing is supposed to challenge the writer. Believe me, this has challenged me immensely. Growing up, you learn that there are certain things you do not share with others or say. But what about when it’s running through your mind and begging you to write to share its story? How can you say no to something that makes you wish you could say yes? To feel as though you will cry and mourn if you turn such a story away? To share that emotion, that level of intensity through words is the ultimate goal. But how do you deal with people, even people who may be close to you, that would feel offended by it? To have them tell me that I cannot write about that which moves me the most is like telling me not to feel the emotion it calls forth. To block out the intensity that requires a level of self-control that I lack. I choose to lack though because if we restrict our writing, we lose the creativity that sparks the imagination.

In a sense this also shows how strongly I feel about the need to read and the need to write. Those two aspects are the motivation I use to complete my training to become an English teacher. I want to be able to share that passion with my students, and even greater than that I want my students to feel the fiery passion that such reading and writing requires. Somewhere between high school and elementary we as educators drop the ball and are responsible for the students’ loss of interest in being more than just literate. I know that I cannot help every student rekindle their love of words and stories but even if I can only help a few students a year that is enough for me. I will be making a difference in their lives that they can carry with them throughout their careers and their lives. Not only will they see my love of reading and writing, but they will also see that it is possible to enjoy my chosen career. Hopefully that will inspire them to choose the path that leads them to a career that will bring them just as much joy. No one said it would be easy, but if it was, it wouldn’t be worth the risk.

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Your Little Girl

Just to give you some background, this post/short story today is based off of this saying: "Abortion does not make you un-pregnant, it makes you the mother of a dead child." I'm writing from the viewpoint of an unborn child. Solemn words make a solemn story.

Mommy? I can hear you and Daddy talking about me. You say I'm a mistake, that I will mess up your lives. I know you're scared and you didn't mean for me to happen. But even though we've never met, I love you and Daddy. If you just give me a chance, I know you'll love me too. 

I'm scared because I can hear you and Daddy arguing about me. I don't want you and Daddy to fight. I'm hurt because you keep talking that you don't want me and there are ways to make it like it never happened before it's too late. Too late? It's already too late!! I feel, I think, I love, I'm alive. And even though you don't want me, I still want you. Just give me a chance. God has shown me what our lives can be like. All the days, good and bad, that just make our love stronger. The day I graduate high school, we both cry because we're both scared of the unknown. The day you and Daddy meet my boyfriend. A couple years after that when I'm graduated from college, you and Daddy walking me down the aisle to my soon-to-be husband. He and I having a child of our own. I want all of that, and deep down inside you must want that too. Please, please let me live. 

Now we're at the clinic. The nurse is telling you what is going to happen. Mommy? I'm scared. I don't want to die. I haven't had the chance to live yet. I just want that chance. I know it's too late though. I wish you could hear me. Even though you don't want me, I love you. The nurse puts something sharp in your arm. I'm starting to feel tired and sleepy. I can feel myself slowing down. 

But it's starting to burn. Mommy, it hurts. Please make it stop. I weep softly knowing that this is the end. The end before the beginning had a chance to start. It hurts too much Mommy. But suddenly God is there, holding me in His arms. He tells me that we will one day meet again. Please start going to church with Daddy. Then we really will meet again and by then I will have forgiven you. Before I go, Mommy I want to ask you something. Why was it so terrible that I live? How could you do this to me, your little girl?

That was very hard to finish. I stopped several times because I could no longer see my screen. Human life is sacred, even from the moment it is conceived.
I want to take this moment to thank my parents for never even considering murdering their children. No words can describe how much I love you Mom and Dad!!

The Clock Winked At Me

So I randomly looked at writing prompts today, and I found this one that I think perfectly describes my whole week. The prompt is: "The clock winked at me." So here it goes.

I jerk awake as I look for whoever is now yelling "Hey! You there, you there! Hey! You there, you there!" It takes me a moment to locate my cellphone which has decided that burying itself in my pillow case is funny. I unlock my phone to silence it and look at my phone. I'm not kidding you because I was fully awake when this happened. My clock winked at me. I gasp as I drop my phone in panic only to grab for it before its bounce takes it over the side of my bed. 

I don't know how to explain this but it looked like my phone. It said 8:30 am and all of a sudden it winked at me. I don't know whether that means something positive or negative. It is Wednesday so that could mean Time will be nice to me and go by quickly. As much as I would love that, I'm starting to dread that means Time is going to be going slowly just to spite me. 


Which of course, the latter wins. My day dragged on and you would think that would give me more time to get a bunch of homework done, right? Wrong. Time that drags makes me tired. Being tired makes me not want to do anything which also means after I finished what I could stand doing for homework, I sat around bored. So bored I was that I took time to watch a season 3 episode of Pokemon. You know, the episode where Ash and Pikachu have to defeat Dragonite? But that only took up approximately twenty-thirty minutes of Time. I'm not saying that's a bad thing, but to go back to season 3 rather than try to catch up on all the new series. Aren't they all the way up to like season 14 now?


I can't believe I'm saying this, but even TV got boring. But don't tell anyone that because that would be considered blasphemy in about 47 states (just kidding but seriously). It's like Time is messing with me. When I have nothing to do, I have too much Time. Then when I have a lot to do, I have no Time. When I'm at school, Time knocks me down and slowly drags me through my week. Then when I get to enjoy the weekend at home with the ones I love, Time throws me over its shoulder and sprints through like its life depended on it. Only rarely do I ever get a day where Time decides to be generous and give me plenty of itself to get a lot done. Maybe Time will one day stop being so bitter because people waste him all the time. 


Hope ya'll enjoy that. I found it actually pretty fun to write :) Till next time fellow Wordsmiths!!