Sometimes, I think that I may have lost the beat that inspired me. Five years ago, I wouldn't have known what I meant if I had that thought.

When I was a child, I had some sense of stability in my life. Stability in my hope that life could improve, and within its core, life was meant to be beautiful. I don't know if I believe that anymore.

I think life is supposed to be hard. People are meant to struggle. People are meant to build themselves back up. But why? When do you lose that hope and the drive.

Teachers and adults would always applaud students for projects that benefitted others. As if, that all disappears when you reach a certain age. You can't find hope or you know better than to be tricked into thinking it exists. I see colleagues and professors and classmates who think like this. Everything is a circle-jerk. Then why are we here? What are we doing this for? If you honestly believed that, wouldn't you just give up and call it a life? Or do you live just to feel the few moments of bliss that happiness can bring?

I'm not sure that I know the answer, but I know that feeling empty isn't it.

I'm knocking on your door today. Answer, please.  Beause I have been standing on your porch for hours. When I got here I felt lost. Lost- I couldn't even feel my legs, and my mind was full of empty thoughts. Can God fix lost? How about confused?

God, I'm knocking. Isn't this your door?

This morning was a struggle to get out of bed. But I did. 

I went to Lakeside Middle School and interviewed the last child on the CASA case I am working on. Today, I decided to take the 44 to the law school. On the bench, I met a man who had just lost his wife and was trying to sell me a bottle of wine. 

But then, I got on the bus and I sat across from someone whose soul spoke to me.  It was practically screaming at me.... I just wish that I knew what it was saying. 

Wooden Deceit

The wind was blowing softly, and I sat down on the neglected wooden swing in the backyard. Green leaves popped out of the decaying section of the next tree. Swinging back and forth, I thought about what we would all write on your headstone. My words seemed harsh and unnatural- perfectly fitting for  a concrete memorial to a young life full of regret and pain. But I didn't want my words to be fitting. I wanted my words to left you up to everything that I knew you could be. As if words in death could re-write life. 

Let's re-write life with drawn out adjectives and over emphatic verbs. Let's infuse the drab misgivings of yesterday with a colorful fire that strangers would be envious of. Let's deceive ourselves with the beauty of language...

Jersey

Jersey this is what I miss about you:

1. Climbing up on Life Guard Stands to have serious conversations
2. Summer dried salty curly hair
3. Garden State Parkway Signs
4. Driving around late at night
5. Best friends and trouble
6. Wawa
7. A gaint excuse to have an attitude
8. Recording thunderstorms

............ and maybe that's it.....

My connection to you still allows me to be teased by by Constitutional Law professor. Every. Other. Day.

Whoah Flashback

In 2012, I started this blog when I first decided that I would spend a year traveling in Europe. That did not happen. I think that was largely to do with my struggle with mental health and a broken heart. My writing used to be so rich. I reminisced about experiences and positively strode on and on about adventures that I had. 

I am so glad that I wrote about them, because I can't remember them nearly as clearly today. However, that makes me think that I should keep blogging. Despite being quite boring this year, I have had experiences that I would like to recall and grow from. 

Can I make a new vow? Yes. I will. I will try to blog at least every other day. This summer I will be in Birmingham, Alabama for an internship so there should be some really interesting material to write about. 

However, I decided not to take the bus to the deep south this summer. I will be flying I will also be making a trip to Boston.. and possibly NYC. 

Judge Me, Because I am Judging Myself

I judged myself today when I dropped my phone on my toe.
And the entire screen shattered.
I cried. The real salty kind of tears.

Perhaps yesterday was a more apt day for judgement,
when I drank tequila silver alone while lying on my bedroom floor
over a criminal law textbook.

Or maybe today..
My brother called me collect from prison
I wonder how much the recollection of his crack induced burglary will cost
Or coaching him through the GED process
As I pushed my law books off of the table