if poetry could seep from my veins like blossoming kaleidoscopes of intellectual and spiritual manifestations. colors would surge reflecting the beauty my mind's eye sees.. because beauty has that tinge of melancholic abandonment. because what you realize can only be attained through its momentary acknowledgement, then the idea fades back into the universe of dreams until it is tapped again by you or another.
but what else can i do, do, do. i always crave new horizons but i fragment my energies by forgetting that i was building a bridge in the first place, you know?
i know you know. know how it feels. to be floating on an ethereal plane of disconnect. and no, it is not negative or sad or fearful. just inspired and unsure.
we all float and blossom
continually
infinitely
entirely
and yet the cursor still blinks with anticipation, dancing to the metronome of my contemplation.
my pulse dances with it, harmonizing with caffeine and the warmth on my wrists, keeping my fingertips warm with joy and the anxious plead for enlightenment.
one being.
the light floats.
the heart flutters
the mind rises
drifting
finding
peace.

writing: early march

her eyes were tired from the light of the day. the projected emotions of imperfection cast through her like haze on an old window. there weren't any enchanting smells, ideas, or even an arid breeze to displace the loneliness from her individualized entity. lost in the waking dreams of her aspirations, clouded by the ideals of others. will she ever really be in the driver's seat?

the only refuge to her internal detriment is the relief of writing. somehow when she releases emphatically visionary poetry to the universe of the internet- for no one and anyone to read. usually a snippet of convoluted intellectual diatribe, but always harmonic to the healing of her soul. today she writes:

   "what thoughts have i extrapolated toward the universe to deserve this karmic negativity?   please, this frazzled energy is killing me.   pinching freshly cut grass blades, wondering what God has bestowed upon me.   sticky residue on my fingertips.   lonely thoughts trace my lips."

as well as:

‎"if the world went mute and sounds meant nothing, if letters were numbers and numbers were colors, how would you feel about right now? would your thoughts and emotions become more singular than a portrayed sentence?"

the westerly afternoon light is now in her eyes, her wrists sweat, her stomach gives sensations of hunger. but she feels unaccomplished and underserving of a hearty meal... taking without giving, consuming without replenishing... why? she wonders...

until tomorrow..

Prospects For the Future of My Blog

If you've ever run across my blog, you've seen my sporadic posts have consisted of creative writing ramblings. However, I desire to make my blog a little more serious on environmental issues as well as a journey of my life as I set out to accomplish goals I've set for myself. Of course, I'll continually be pouring out ideas and perspectives on issues I find interesting but don't see it as a path for my particular future.

As for a little background about myself: I'm currently 20 years old and an undergraduate botany major in the United States. My geographical and social history is rather broad and my intellectual curiosities infinitely deep. After graduating highschool I attended a small private university in Philadelphia where I studied Biology. I decided after just one year to transfer to a University where I could earn a Botany degree, for some reason within me I find it very important for me to do, although I absolutely loved my education at SJU. Where I want to take my degree? Well, that seems limitless at this point, but that's a part of the reason for this technological time capsule.

Anyway, I'll keep this rather short because each day there are a million things to reference and project on.