Unfinished.

My dad used to say he couldn't keep up with me. As soon as I'd get a job or declare a major or make any career goal, I'd change it by the next time I saw him. That's how my writing is going about now. I have drafts collecting dust in my Notes app and Wix folder. When I think I've figured out what I've wanted to say, something else happens that needs to be written and shared. Then again. Then again. Then again and all of sudden it's been 6 months since I've published something. Audience (and I know there are a lot of you, I check my stats), if you could be as so kind as to pick a prompt and put the number in the comments, I'd be forever in your debt. Until then, I'll continue working through my Sudoko puzzle book and getting progressively worse at knitting.

#1 Southwest Flight 1532 - draft February 16th, 2023

My worst habit as a novice writer is drawing inspiration from an event where someone wronged me. I never cared to document all the "rights" that have been done by me because what lesson can you learn if you're already nice? In the past 30 flights I've taken this year, I've met generous people who have not wronged me. Their stories, the Good Samaritan deeds they've done for me, are worth noting. Afterall, I'm about to graduate with a MFA in Writing -- I'd hardly call that novice.

"It's Been So Long Since Someone's Needed Me."

I sat in the middle seat with a lonely empty nester to my right and a 20-year-old son who'd just lost his dad to cancer to my left. The plane dropped leaving my stomach suspended longer than it's the typical amount of time. Instinctively, I found the empty nester's hand and squeezed it. After my stomach had resettled to its appropriate place in my body, I went to pull my hand away and apologized for the involuntary reflex. She squeezed my hand tighter, unwilling to let it go and with tears in her eyes asked me to keep holding on because "it's been so long since someone's needed me."

#2 When Promises Become Synonymous With Lies - draft March 02, 2023

Today I woke up pissed off. The kind of pissed off that makes me shake, my vision blur, and my heartbeat out of my chest. In one of my groups in college, we were given a platform to publicly reflect on our good and/or bad experiences with the opportunity to speak both our gratefulness and our woes with our organization and the people within it. As I prepare to move to Florida in five weeks after living in Annapolis for over 18 months, this post is my graduation speech. It's full of thank you's and f**k you's. It's 500 words of abrasive thoughts that should've been spoken over a year ago. It's the blunt sequel to, the "When Your Circle Stops Clapping For You" post. I've studied the English language for five years now, going on my sixth, but I must've been absent the day we covered the definition of promise and when it became synonymous with a lie.

#3 I Stopped Being Christian a While Ago - draft December 15th, 2023

Let me tell you about this Christian post. It's everything my nosey subculture wants to read.

Clearly, I was battling a cornucopia of emotions with no real emotional regulation. So, help me resurrect one of these. Or don't, I can't tell you what to do.