05.20.15
My happy place is ever changing. Negativity often swallows an environment that once made me content but I have found that is just the natural cycle of things. At the moment I am content when I sit on a bench, alone or with close friends, around the river bend from a small fishing cove, tucked behind a veil of greenery.
On occasion, a close friend of mine going to school in the city comes to join me here, coffee in one hand, a burning cigarette in the other. There is no awkward small talk necessary which is unbelievably gratifying, and I don't feel the need to say anything if I don't want to. We go early in the morning or late at night, but most often at dusk, when the sky is a gentle tangerine orange with wisps of lavender. The perfume of blooming flowers in the spring in combination with this scenery is serene and overwhelmingly calming. Cool gray smoke unfurls and spills out from his lips, spiraling down and outward into the air. He recants his latest experiences and accomplishments which I listen to with ease. I'm always happy for him, always proud.
These brief fleeting hours in which I get to be in the company of someone I care about deeply always brings about a profound appreciation for the people in my life. Unfortunately many of the people close to me are actually very far away. My best friends fled to California and New Mexico at the conclusion of their high school careers. The distance has given me the opportunity to gain a strong understanding for always letting the people who love you know what the mean to you, especially when they physically cant be there with you. I found that on days when nostalgia begins to take over all I want to do Is let them know I love them.
At this point im kind of at a loss of what else to say on the topic, so tozz says I should talk about college. college seems fun but my dream school that I have fallen in love with is extremely unlikely that I will get in. I'm hoping that disconnecting myself from New Paltz will help me deal with change better then I do know. I'm going to go for cultural anthropology or peace and conflict studies in hopes of learning how to help others in a substantial way. I might sound annoying for wanting that (because somehow that can be an annoying thing these days) but honestly I'm just giving it to ya straight.
Friday, May 29, 2015
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Blueberries
05.14.15
I loved blueberries. still do, actually. My ability to recall my childhood is unimpressive, but I remember the blueberries. My dad wasn't around a lot. not because he didn't want to be there, but because he had to be to provide for us. when he was home I can remember sitting in front of the french doors at a table built for someone my size at the time (about 2 feet). despite the insanely tiny chairs and surface area of the table, he would sit with me and eat a colander of freshly washed blueberries until we left it as an gutted carcass.
13 years later and the irony slaps me awake. He quit his job to spend time with us when I was about 14, and for the first time I saw him break apart for me, momentarily. I had resented him as a spiteful preteen for never being around for me, and only after seeing salt water stain his cheeks did I realize all he sacrificed for me. he loved me and my siblings unconditionally, and had to leave say goodbye to us hundreds of times for work. I cant handle one goodbye, and he had to do it every other week? I cant imagine the heartache he experience leaving his 1, 3, and 4 year olds so often until the were 12, 14 and 15. I saw his heartbreak in divorce. I saw him fall apart from the stress of his job. At 14 he opened my eyes to the genuine hurt that everyone, even those who seem the strongest, experience.
He fuels my passion to do something substantial with my life. everyday he drives me to be happy. He is not a man who sugar coats anything. He taught me the value of the dollar by never allowing me to expect anything. He had the resources to give us anything we wanted, but he didn't. not even close. no handouts. work for what you want, that's what he taught. nobodies ever going to just hand you what you want, so why would I let you grow up thinking that? "give your kids enough to start something, but not enough to do nothing" he says. He taught me how to be a self sufficient person, how to fight for what I want, and to never expect a thank you. hand in hand with these harsh lessons he taught me to be a good person. you cant be an a**hole and get away with it. Continuing to support me in whatever I'm driven to do, he lets me take risks if I am passionate about what im doing. That is my father, my best friend. There are a lot of gaping holes in my memories where he wasn't there, but when he was around he made an impact, and what he could to shape me into a decent human being.
I loved blueberries. still do, actually. My ability to recall my childhood is unimpressive, but I remember the blueberries. My dad wasn't around a lot. not because he didn't want to be there, but because he had to be to provide for us. when he was home I can remember sitting in front of the french doors at a table built for someone my size at the time (about 2 feet). despite the insanely tiny chairs and surface area of the table, he would sit with me and eat a colander of freshly washed blueberries until we left it as an gutted carcass.
13 years later and the irony slaps me awake. He quit his job to spend time with us when I was about 14, and for the first time I saw him break apart for me, momentarily. I had resented him as a spiteful preteen for never being around for me, and only after seeing salt water stain his cheeks did I realize all he sacrificed for me. he loved me and my siblings unconditionally, and had to leave say goodbye to us hundreds of times for work. I cant handle one goodbye, and he had to do it every other week? I cant imagine the heartache he experience leaving his 1, 3, and 4 year olds so often until the were 12, 14 and 15. I saw his heartbreak in divorce. I saw him fall apart from the stress of his job. At 14 he opened my eyes to the genuine hurt that everyone, even those who seem the strongest, experience.
He fuels my passion to do something substantial with my life. everyday he drives me to be happy. He is not a man who sugar coats anything. He taught me the value of the dollar by never allowing me to expect anything. He had the resources to give us anything we wanted, but he didn't. not even close. no handouts. work for what you want, that's what he taught. nobodies ever going to just hand you what you want, so why would I let you grow up thinking that? "give your kids enough to start something, but not enough to do nothing" he says. He taught me how to be a self sufficient person, how to fight for what I want, and to never expect a thank you. hand in hand with these harsh lessons he taught me to be a good person. you cant be an a**hole and get away with it. Continuing to support me in whatever I'm driven to do, he lets me take risks if I am passionate about what im doing. That is my father, my best friend. There are a lot of gaping holes in my memories where he wasn't there, but when he was around he made an impact, and what he could to shape me into a decent human being.
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