“Why do you do this to yourself?” A question I hear quite often. My go-to answer?: “Because I’m a closet masochist.” Which, while somewhat accurate, is not the entire answer. What is this that I do to myself, you might ask? One word. Procrastinate. I am a textbook procrastinator. One…
Can you tell me, what’s it like?When everything lines up just right?Reaching out and grasping a hand,Being pulled from the sea onto dry land, Can you tell me, how’s it feel?To know you’ll never have to steal?Never have to ask yourself “how?”,Your struggle is something they won’t allow. Can you…
Businesses are struggling. This has become common knowledge over the last few months. Restaurants and businesses can’t find workers, they’re being forced to shorten their hours, and some are even permanently closing their doors due to their inability to find reliable staff. The question I’m wondering is…who is to blame…
What ever happened to “Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”? Or even the old crowd favorite…”I’m rubber, you’re glue. Whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you!” I mean, c’mon. We all heard these growing up. And yes, when we…
This was my final submission for my interpretive essay for Introduction to Literature. I received a 239.65/250 and some great feedback from my professor. Sometimes, less is more, alas I was a huge fan of this story and got a little bit excited when writing about it. If you haven’t…
I debated on just copy/pasting the entire essay but that would be….a ridiculously long post. So, instead I figured out how to make it a clickable document. I scored 200/200 on this paper, below is the prompt we were given.
You pick me up so you can push me down,Just to see how long I’ll stay on the ground,You pull me in just to shut me out,Your illusions are crushed by the weight of my doubts, This back and forth is a game to you,It’s a shame we’re through,I’m not…
How do you maintain connections in a world that’s so overly, superficially connected that it’s actually completely disconnected? This is an honest question, and one I find myself struggling with regularly. The feeling of loneliness when I pick up my phone is utterly pervasive. I want to reach out to…
“Start writing again” he said. As if words are like well trained dogs, That come when called and know when you’re sad Or happy or need love or distraction If only. If only words were that simple, Or that well trained.. “Start writing again…please.” The “please” is a nice touch,…
