Writing.

I have always loved to write. When I was a kid I would write short stories, usually consisting of a girl (me) embarking on some adventure with an animal or two. By no means were they good, the grammar was appalling, but my imagination was so vivid and expanding, I would create multiple tales.

 I can still remember how I would clearly envision the sequence of events to the point where it it felt as though I had lived it. I would get so excited just thinking about my story coming to life that I wouldn’t stop until it was finished.

However, my childhood innocence has since disappeared and real life has been experienced.

While my passion for writing has never died, my willingness to do has. For writing brings things to life and there are some things that I would rather leave dead. I am scared to write certain things for the sole reason that once the words have escaped my mind they are no longer safe. Not only from prying eyes but from myself.

I want to be able to write uninhibited; fearless of what my hand will scrawl onto the paper. In short, I want to tell my story but I am not ready to read it.

 

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I am starting to get on my own nerves

I have been “writing a paper” for the past couple of hours, and still I haven’t accomplished anything. It’s not like I am not trying to write this paper, it is just that every time I begin to focus on one aspect of this piece of literature I find another aspect that I could write about. Then when I have finally found what my focus will be, I know what I want to write about but I can’t seem to get the words out. So then I think about it and convince myself that I need to find a new focus point and then the cycle beings all over again. I don’t even realize I am doing it until I glance at the clock and realize that I have wasted an hour or two.

I have all of these great ideas swarming around in my head. But as soon as I put pen to paper they all want to escape at the same time causing my brain to go on overdrive and then just completely crash.

IT IS SO FRUSTRATING!

 

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Going Back to High School

This semester I am completing my second field experience, meaning I will be going into a school and observing a class (teacher and students). I have been waiting to find out what school I have been assigned all week. Today, I finally saw the email I was waiting and when I opened it up I was shocked to find I was assigned to good o’l Albert Einstein High. The four years I spent there I can honestly say were the worst four years of my life. I never though in a million years that I would ever step foot in that god-forsaken place again. But here I am, assigned to go back. Life is funny that way, you finally leave the place were you spent four miserable years of your life only to return there nearly 5 years. I like to think that everything happens for a reason, and maybe the reason for this is to prove to me how far I have come and remind me of why I have embarked on this journey to becoming a high school teacher.

Where Did All the Fun People Go?

I am so tired of talking to someone only to have them constantly check their phones and answer with the occasional, “mmhmm”. Oh, I’m sorry. Am I interrupting your social life by trying to hold a face-to-face conversation with you? Why even bother leaving the house if all you are going to do is be glued to your phone instead of acknowledging the life that is happening around you? There is so much more to life than keeping up with what is happening on social media, but we are just too worried about how many people like our pictures or how many people follow us to actually enjoy and appreciate everything this world has to offer. Adventure and fun is out there. So put the phone down for a while. Talk and engage with the people who are in front of you and just experience life!