Tag Archives: writing

I fell in love with a book today

It might have been because the day is gorgeous today. Even at 9AM when I was walking to church, the sun was high and warm, and the surroundings were just… lovely.

It might have been because of the sermon today. I’ve been praying for God to give me a love for His word, and the message talked all about how precious and powerful and wonderfully good the Word is. The resonance of truth really stuck with me as I began my walk back to campus.

I do believe it was because I felt God told me to slow down. Just on my way back home I was thinking about all the things I should do, and it was if His hand fell onto my shoulder and just, halted me. I looked around and noticed anew how beautiful the day was. To my left was a bench in the sunshine, and I decided to sit, and just be. Continue reading

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Forced to Write

One of the downsides to choosing to double major with Creative Writing so late, is the requirements. After taking the amazing advanced writing classes that inspired me to pursue it even more, I now have to take the introduction classes. It’s these classes, or this class in particular, where I find the reason why so many people knock on MIT’s writing program. Today marks the day that I can no longer stand up for my department.  Continue reading

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Tired Already?

It’s strange, but I think I’m done with this now. This… school thing. Maybe it’s the effects of coming back from a magnificent spring break (the details of which I’ve been meaning to write down… I shall do so eventually, I hope), but all in all, it’s disconcerting just how much I don’t want to be here anymore.

I’m used to not having any initiative to do my work. That takes time, but it’s not impossible to overcome. I’m used to hitting a wall. Again, difficult, yet I’ve done it before and I can do it again. But this, this is new. It’s not that I don’t have initiative, it’s just that my heart is pulling me elsewhere. I don’t want to be by myself in lab doing research, I don’t want to be by myself doing psets, I don’t want to be by myself… at all.

I want to write. To disappear into my own little world which, honestly, looks so much better than this one, if only because it’s almost real. I want to keep writing and re-writing, and sharing with my friends and reading and thinking and learning to write. I want to sing. I want to run, I want to shout, I want to laugh. I want to love.

Now that I think about it, I was doing all that and more just last week.

So now I see it – I just miss it. I physically, emotionally, spiritually, and mentally, miss New Orleans.

 

But what can I do about it?

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Shock #tbt

It’s been a while since I’ve written, and while I know that no apology is necessary, I almost feel as though it’s compulsory to give an excuse for my absence. I don’t yet have the words for it, but I will do my best to try. Later.

In the interim, I stumbled across a short musing I had written early last semester. It’s wordy and written in a voice that I no doubt integrated from a book I was reading at the time, but it’s true nonetheless. That was a time that I quite enjoyed writing down what was going on with me. It is probably an exercise that had kept me sane back then. I know this because the throwback was enough to make me return here, as I’ve been trying to make myself do for the past few months. Perhaps that’s an indication that God has something to do with this – plus, it’s Thursday, the official day of the week for pensive throwbacks.  Continue reading

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Double Major

“I’m double majoring” is a phrase that gets automatic raised eyebrows which may be either impressed or worried, depending on the student in question. As I’m going to MIT, the difference isn’t necessarily because of me but rather depending where I am. If I’m at home or with my friends and the words slip out, I get the frown or raised eyebrows (depending on the person) of worry or surprise. If I’m talking to random people it’s often the raised eyebrows that show they’re impressed, or sometimes that they’re confused. Though that may be because in English (as opposed to MIT talk) my double major is quite long.

“What are you double majoring in?”

The answer for MIT kids: “2 and 21W.” Response: concern and/or surprise.

For everyone else: “Mechanical Engineering with a focus in Nanotechnology and Manufacturing, and Writing primarily focused in Creative Writing.” Yeah. I get the confused face a lot.  Continue reading

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Words

“Swearing is just a societal construct,” he told me.
“All it does is put words in categories.
Aligning diction with propriety
is just another mode of censoring
the forms I use in expressing
my thoughts.
Isn’t this what we’ve been taught?
That our freedom of speech cannot be bought
or cast aside because it’s ‘morally wrong.’
Besides,” he finished with a shrug.
“They’re just words. Why should I give a flying firetruck?”  Continue reading

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The Lost Beauty of Words

“I don’t like reading. I prefer watching the movies.” Probably one of the most unfortunate things I’ve ever been close enough to hear. I’ve heard it several times, and every time it pains me in a way that I couldn’t truly describe. At first I thought it was just the sadness that comes from someone saying that your favorite pastime is not worth much to them, and at that moment you suddenly feel ostracized and alone and you react by either defending the integrity of a good read or simply shrugging it off and moving on. But after reading a beautifully penned story by one of the students in my Advanced Fiction Workshop, I realized that it’s not the pain of finding yourself in the minority, but rather the pain from seeing someone, knowing someone, who will never understand the beauty of a masterpiece painted with words.  Continue reading

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I want to be a writer.

I’ve always wanted to, in fact I’m sure there’s a post somewhere in the not-so-deep depths of my archives that talks about this (whether on this blog or on the other four blogs I started in my youth (“in my youth.” Now there’s a funny phrase for someone my age to say)). Last January I went on a retreat that changed my outlook on my life, and confirmed for me that writing is going to be part of how God moves through me in my life.

Cool. So now what?  Continue reading

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Called – A Testimony, A Poem

(This is meant as spoken word, but until I get the courage to actually perform it, it’ll remain in text. Perhaps one day, but it’s something I’d like to share.)

Father God, I stand before you in the midst of my inadequacy,
A breathing contradiction, the battle within me the only consistency.
I know You have paid the price for me, I know I am free,
Yet still I sit with these chains draped over me. Continue reading

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Anew… Again

I recently had an odd conversation with myself, one that revolved around why I was a Christian. It stems from my recent search for who I am, for who God is in my life, and all that kind of existentialist crap that I thought I’d never have to get myself into. Or rather, that I hoped I’d never have to get myself into. Yet it’s a hard question to avoid, especially as a sophomore in college not yet quite sure which direction her life is turning and yet ever so scared of missing a good turn. But that’s a tangent. Continue reading

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