Monthly Archives: November 2014

Run Over, Drug Down

I smoked a ciggarette,

Lit up the night alone.

Smoke filled the air,

Another rolling stone.

I breathed in deep,

As the weight fell strong.

No time to weep,

As I died alone.

I thought of the smiles,

The tears and the crimes.

The light faded slowly,

And thought of these rhymes.

Death was well suited,

I accepted it well.

I let it flow over,

And knew it was Hell.

I accepted it fully,

Knowing you had come too.

I took you down with me,

A final screw you.


It’s Been A Minute

It’s been a while since I’ve really felt like writing.  Things have happened, but nothing really that I felt very strong about.  I’ve worked a lot and I’ve thought a lot about where I need to be and where I need to go.  I think as a young wife with no children (which I hope to keep it that way, but that’s a story for another day) that I should be focusing on where I want to be as a human being in this vast world.  So I’ve pondered quit intensely what I need to be doing to get to where I need to be.  My one dream in life is to be a writer.  I want it more than anything else in the world yet here in Wyoming I feel often that it’s like trying to grow a garden in Greenland.  In such a small area with little to be desired in the realm of arts and literature I fear that maybe I’m fighting a losing battle.  And yet I don’t want to move.  I love my home; I’ve grown up here and have so many memories, both good and bad, that I can’t bring myself to even consider moving.  So how can I keep my life as one instead of trying to divide the two sides?  One arm is pulling me home while the other is pulling me into my passion.  I just can’t seem to find a way to keep it all together.  So, alas, I have settled for a hard drive filled with short stories and novels and a blog overflowing with an explosion of emotions and thoughts and dreams.

Lately I have been focusing on what I can do to make my dream come true to become a published writer.  I have studied the few local writers who have been widely published and become what I wish to be.  I’ve found a few publishers and agents that I have tried to contact.  I’ve had a few ideas on who to talk to and what to say.  I’ve even considered going back to school (a thought that I have ultimately decided needs to be permanently pushed to the back burner).  I’ve slaved over ideas that I feel are essential to my happiness in my personal life.

Yet I still feel like I’m a million miles behind everyone else in the way of careers and livelihoods.  I fear that my patience may be a weakness and that if I don’t, in lamens terms, get a move on it that I may wind up so far behind that I can never catch up, not to others, but to myself in my own mind.  And with every passing season I worry that it’s too late.  At 23 years old I worry that I’ve spent my life incorrectly and while I have so many amazing memories and experiences I still feel as though it’s not enough.  Will I regret my life in the future?  Am I beginning to regret my life now?  Have I wasted too much time or was it even wasted at all?

I’ve pondered these things to an extent that I worry I have become obsessed.  Only time will tell if I’ve done it right or if I’ll need to ask for a “do-over”.  The only thing I know for sure is that one day I will have the answers that I desperately need.  I can only hope that one day comes sooner rather than later and that the answers I receive are the ones that I’ve been hoping for.  Until then, all I can do is think.