It's Been A Minute
Wow, it's been a minute.
I feel like my life has been a whirlwind and I'm just now getting my feet back on the ground. Within the past month, I've taken a 10-day trip down to the sunny state of Florida, did a complete clean out of all my old clothes and nick-nacks, started my summer classes, applied to the school I'm going to transfer to in the spring, among other messy things. But to be honest, I've missed this little blogging space. All I've wanted to do for the past month has been to sit down and write. So right now, I'm sitting in a Starbucks -- sipping on a tall green tea -- making the time to sit and focus on getting some words down on the page.
The only thing is, I've sat here for a good ten minutes and I'm stumped on what to write about. Writer's block has gotten me good and I'm not quite sure how to break out of it. So I thought I'd ask you, my readers. What would you like to read on this little blog of mine? It's time for me to make a regular commitment to writing again and I'd like to write posts you'd like to read.
Shoot me an email at hello.meganelaine@gmail.com or comment below. I'm looking forward to hearing your comments and suggestions.
Poetry & Such
the cool, icy
breeze
kisses the
skin of
me
__________
I told him
“no”
yes, “no”
I told him
“leave, go”
but then he said
"wait"
"wait"
I was his
“home”
__________
there is this feeling of pain,
we’ll call that X
then there is you
we’ll call you Y
when you say the word
that starts with an “n”
and ends with an “o”
X equals Y
4.14.17
Life has gotten to me again, but today, I’m stopping it all and taking a moment to enjoy the weather, iced coffee, a book, and the greenness that has flooded my back yard. I haven’t been able to write these past few days so getting to take the time to sit and type a few words is a nice thing.
I went and bought a fern, a cactus, and a few succulents today. Lowe's was as busy as you would expect it to be on a sunny spring day. People clamoring like ants around the herbs, potted flowers, and hanging plants. Some trying out the outdoor cushions and couches. I went straight to the sea of green. All the plants and grasses and succulents make me feel at home and full of life. Green is my favorite color and that’s one of the reasons why.
It took me about 10 minutes to pick out which fern I wanted. There were big ones and small ones and one that looked like they contained a small jungle under the leafy greens. I picked one that was sort of in the middle, small enough to hang on my hook at home but still had the jungle likeness to it. I picked out a flowering cactus and a few succulents, too.
After I made it through the checkout, fought traffic, and make it back home, I realized I didn’t have any potting soil, so I had to go back out again. This time I went to Menards, which was a good choice because compared to Lowe’s, it was completely dead and the soil was cheaper.
The second time I pulled up into my driveway I was ready to tackle the task of putting the succulents in their pots with the potting soil. I forgot how much I love potting plants, making them a little home to grow and bloom. The soil got under my fingernails and made the palms of my hands black as cole. It was soft and moist and pure. It was reliving, sticking the roots of the plants down into the soil, giving them a chance at life and a new surrounding. Planting seeds are the same way, only you’re waiting and praying the little seedling break through the topsoil with little green leaves. Growing up towards the light, higher than high.
That reminds me of when I was little. I used to love plants but I was never able to have them. I always thought that if I was just about to get the seeds, then I could take some dirt from the garden out back and use the pot I painted for school. I remember once I tried to use the seeds from a fruit. I can’t remember what fruit it was, an apple, I think. I extracted them from the core and the rushed up to my room to get the pot. Inconspicuously I when outside and collected the dirt I needed, then slowly, I placed the seeds down into the soil and watered it with tap water.
The seeds didn’t grow like I hoped they would. There were several things I did wrong. I planted the seeds too deep in the soil and I used our softened tap water. It was then I learned that soften water is never good for plants. Once my mom figured out what I did she and I went out to the store and bought a packet of flower seeds and then she helped me plant them the correct way. The flowers poked through the soil grew little sprouts and turned into colorful blooms. Now that I’m sitting here thinking about it, I’ve always had a love for plants like that, in all their greenness.
________
Sitting outside listening to the birds' chirp is a nice way to end the evening. My dog is running around getting into mischief every now and then. She’s so curious and full of wonder. When you’re only four months old, the world is a whole expanse just waiting to be explored, even when the world is just your back yard.
“I’m headed home with three plates of food and two bags you can’t look in, easter is coming you know.” - my mother to me while talking on the phone.
Life As I Know It
I should really be studying, or writing the paper that's due at 11:59 pm tonight. But you only get these days of fresh air and the ability to open the windows and breath it in while you sit inside on the couch writing, once. Once as in, like once a week if you're lucky. The weather can be bipolar. So I'm resisting the call of assignments due and instead, sitting in the sunlight, trying also, to resist the insecurity and lack of words that is my writing.
___________
The tree outside in our neighbor's yard is beautiful this time of year. The spring buds bloom into purple flowers. I wish the tree was in our yards so I could photograph it better. At least I'm able to look out at it when I drink my coffee in the morning.
The tulips are also in bloom, meaning it's officially spring. The fact that Easter is next Sunday is crazy to me. It's crazy how time flies by so fast. I have so many things to get done anymore, my to-do list is never ending, that I never have time to stop and smell the flowers.
___________
About half of the photos on my camera nowadays are of my pup, in all her glory. She likes to walk around the house and sneak our slippers or socks when she can find them. Once she has them in her grasp she likes to run all around the house until we catch her, which may take up to 15 to 20 minutes. She's a fast runner and knows how to escape from sticky situations. Good for her, but it makes it harder on the person who is trying to get their shoe back.
note to self...
Write. Don’t write about your longing to write, just write. Don’t think about it too much. Write about the dreams and the hopes in your soul. Write about the days that seems to never come. Write about the days that have come. Write about the things on your heart, the things pegging your mind. Write about the raindrops on your windshield and the swear words you mutter under your breath. Write about the way their eyes look when they're excited about something, or thinking about something deeply. Write about the four old ladies sitting in front of you in the theater. Write about the feeling of the keys on your fingertips. Or the pen in your fingers and your hand on the page. Write about breathing, about feeling, about loving. Write truth. Write the raw, harsh truth that comes with living life. You only get this time once.
Go write.
Open Arms
Normally change is a quiet, slow-moving person. Normally it creeps up and around in the most mondain ways. Only when you look back into the past, can you see how it worked. But right now, I can feel it. I can feel change coming. I can see it on the forefront, shifting day by day. Moving like the wide, deep ocean.
Change it coming. I can feel it, I can see it.
And I'm welcoming it, with open arms.
smudgy ink
I have a mess of thoughts in my mind that I can’t collect into words quite yet. There is an exhaustion of pages and smudgy ink that I have toiled over, again and again. Trying to etch down my thoughts, but they haven’t come like I hoped. The words wont run smoothly on the page just yet. I think they need more time to soak in the vast light that is not the written page. I’ll give it a few days, then I’ll come back again and try again. Maybe they just weren't meant to be smooth and elagent, maybe they are just supposed to be the truth.
Un Poème en Français
L’amour de Vous et Moi
La vie est dorée.
Vous et moi
nous
sommes sur le seuil
de ce commencement l’amour.
English Translation:
Life is golden.
You and me
we
are on the threshold
of this beginning love.
off to neverland | poems
i.
The steam from the pot rolled heavy across the air.
He played with my hair, fair
but not.
There is something about the way he holds me
tight, but not so.
I’m still cold.
ii.
I walk out onto the street, to meet
with him
again
off to Neverland we go
or shall I think
blink
right before my eyes everything flashes
Neverland turned into never-turning-back.
iii.
I stair into the abysses of this cold, empty space
It’s not what imaged to face
This whole thing,
I created it in my head,
a fairy-tail, a happily-ever-after,
turned dead.
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