Category: Passion Blog

This is the last passion blog I will write for RCL, and sadly, I am at a loss for words. I wanted it to be a bit special and memorable since this class and year in general has truly meant a lot to me. Getting to know all of you, whether this was done in a small way, like blogging comment sessions, or a big way, say through a video project that you spent wayyy too much time shooting and reshooting, has been a blessing (:

I took two tests today, and did a lot of other homework. The semester is quickly coming to a close, and although I am excited, this isn’t the way I thought it would end. Instead of getting to spend the summer with family after attending school everyday, I am already hidden away, starring at a screen, just like I would probably be doing for part of the summer. I don’t get to say goodbye to my friends from school formally. There won’t be any sort of last hurrah, a yay we made it through our first year at PSU!! Instead, I’ll have to pat myself on the back from the comforts of my own bed.

In an effort to keep this blog as low-maintenance as possible, I’m going to share some poems with you that I have written previously. I hope some of them will be topical and pertinent to the current situation, whether it be due to these capricious circumstances, or not. I’m going to begin with a poem that can be interpreted in many ways. Maybe it’s about breaking the barriers in one’s own mind and reaching success. Maybe it’s about grappling with anxiety and depression. Maybe it’s about coming to terms with a part of one’s identity. Or maybe, it’s about breaking free of a physical restraint or uncertainty, like the coronavirus:

Display

View me at a distance like a museum display 

Be thankful that my painted smile has no choice but to stay

For the world I sit up tall, a strong and slender silhouette 

So poised and picturesque, for a moment, I almost forget

When the lights dim down and the esteemed critics go to bed

I let my shoulders slouch, and the memories flood my head

They’ll all be back, I know, the moment I awake

And I’ll have to be ready then, but now, make no mistake

I am remembering and regretting and plotting my revenge

All while piecing together the best way to make amends

Attempt to retire my heart with feelings put on hold

So I can play theirs like the winning hand, first spades, hearts, then fold

And when the lights come up on that fateful day, when I’m finally ready

I’ll break right out of my display, head held twice as steady 

For then, my smile will widen, no need to hide in plain sight

And home is where I’ll go, home to bed, that glorious night

This next poem is one I wrote in preparation for high school graduation, but I think it is also worthy of sharing here. It states a lot of truths about my classmates as a whole that I can sincerely say also applies to all of my classmates in RCL:

Alright

We are hello

We are goodbye

We are who we are

And that’s alright 

I must depart 

We all diverge

And I can’t tell

Whether it will hurt

But maybe now 

We’ll find ourselves

When we are forced 

To walk alone

And maybe now

We’ll find ourselves

In love and loss

We’ve already known

But maybe that’s 

What life’s about

Change is tough

But we tough it out

I learn to be strong

I learn how to fight

I learned what was wrong 

But I know what’s right

We all wake up

We all lay down

And I don’t know how

But I’ll surely find out 

All that’s left

Is to silence my mind

Silence my heart 

And hope to do fine

Cause you and them

And they and I 

Are capable

Worthy 

Strong 

And bright

I’ve seen it before 

And that makes it

Alright

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you enjoyed those poems, and you have an amazing rest of the school year, and an even better summer. Remember to be safe, but also remember that you are capable of the world, and given the opportunity, when this is all over, we will conquer this and many more challenges to come. Thank you so much for reading this post, and as always, until next time (:

The days are truthfully all starting to blend together, and many days I feel almost shackled to the floor in my grandparent’s basement, more specifically, to the bed, which has become both my sleeping space and my workspace these past few weeks. I’m actually a bit relieved that nobody will be reading this blogpost, as I don’t really have anything new and exciting to add that I haven’t already mentioned. It’s interesting how fast and slowly time can seem to pass, all at once.

I think my biggest takeaway, the more I feel I am forced to hunker down and work, sleep, repeat, is how similar these times are to my state of mind a few years ago, when life felt directionless. By no means am I in a depressive state, I am very happy and I feel safe here, it’s just that I can see some striking similarities between the two that are hard to ignore. I am in bed most of the time, my mind is blank besides what I have to get done. I am anxious about completing assignments that seem arbitrary in the grand scheme of things, and I am waiting for an epiphany; a moment where all of this is somehow explained by the universe so I can be at peace.

I’ve been trying to stay away from the news, and strikingly, away from conversations (and consequently, people) who tend to only talk about the virus. It’s not that I don’t recognize the gravity of the situation, or that I’m in a state of denial, I just don’t feel the need to hear the newest update, or the latest person who died. It gets to be repetitive, overwhelming, and simply unnecessary negativity to consistently take in. I realize this may be a controversial opinion, but that’s just how I see it. We can’t cure it right now, we can’t prevent the spread (beyond social distancing) so why does society insist on torturing itself with information?

The other day, I accidentally deleted all of my old emails, which without my knowledge, also deleted many of the notes in my note’s app, which just so happens to be where I write a lot of my poems. Thankfully, I have copies of a lot of these elsewhere, but still, the notepad feels sad and empty. I miss brimming with ideas and being unable to contain my urge to write something down, but it seems this state left me somewhere over the years, along with my childhood enthusiasm, and I would like both of those back, thank you very much.

I’m sorry if these posts seem more like a rant than an inspirational monologue nowadays, but don’t our minds operate that way naturally? If anything, I think it’s imperative to drop eloquent language and just let whatever you type fall where it may. It’s the only reason I ever have anything to say in these posts. I think I don’t, I sit down and begin, and what do you know? I do.

In the spirit of wanting to be young again (and I know I’m 19, and that’s still young, but hold on) I wrote a poem about youthful enthusiasm that I think all of us experience at some point. My time to be young felt especially short considering how fast I seemed to mature mentally, and it’s crazy how what once was can seem so far away. I hope you enjoy the melancholy state of remembrance as much as I do:

Welp, it’s official!! I’ve moved into my grandparents house and will likely be here until the end of the Coronavirus reign. I can’t say I have much new to report on beyond the fact that it’s kinda nice down here, away from other distractions. Like I said before, the introvert in me is loving this peaceful alone time, but let’s hope that’s enough to sustain me for the next few months.

The way my grandparent’s house is set up is actually perfect for a situation like this, because the basement is basically an entire mini-apartment without a kitchen. There are three beds all lined up; two fulls and a queen in the middle. I would’ve chosen the biggest, but for some reason I prefer the one closest to the far wall (maybe because it has an outlet and a nightstand nearby).

We’ve slept over here plenty of times growing up, mostly when our parents were out of town (we being my brother and I). I have good memories spending one or two nights here, upstairs eating ice cream on the couch watching TV, or playing family games at Christmas and Easter at the dining room table with all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins. Even now, the faces of all of these people watch over me from the walls as I sleep. My grandma keeps a collage of family photos on the wall, right next to her collection of Polish Pottery.

While it does suck to remain isolated except for a short excursion to a drive-through to get food (we had KFC the other night) or to go to work, I have found ways to make the most of my time. I went for two walks this week, one with Gino (my grandma’s adorable Yorkie) and one without him. It was nice to just get out and breathe some fresh air. The fact that it’s getting a bit warmer out always lifts my spirits, even if we’re mostly shut inside.

In case whoever’s reading is curious how life working at a supermarket during these crazy times is, let me tell you, it’s twice as tiring. Wegmans has implemented a ton of policies to keep everyone safe, which includes spraying the conveyor belt down between every transaction, telling customers to stand back (usually more than once because they forget) and letting them come forward only to pay. There’s also a limit on certain items and a lot of people don’t read the signs. Being a cashier is already a demanding, labor intensive job, and now it is even more so.

Another thing that makes these interactions harder is how on edge everyone seems to be. I find myself wondering what the customers are thinking, if they are afraid I have the virus, or if any of them have it. I try to be courteous and I always ask how their day is beyond the circumstances, but it is hard to sustain small talk quite like we used to, especially when we have to enforce certain rules. Nonetheless, I love my job, and it has given me the opportunity to get out of the house and see other faces, especially my coworkers, who help keep me sane.

About two nights ago, not going to lie, I had a mental breakdown for seemingly no reason at all. The whole day, I felt overwhelmed, I couldn’t bring myself to do my schoolwork, I felt miserable and life seemed hopeless, even though I knew it wasn’t. I think it’s important to keep in touch with one another during these trying times, and lift each other up, rather than being worried or wary of others, try to see them as a human, not a potential threat.

I’m very guilty of staying quiet, and letting others come to me, but in times like these, I realize that it is in reaching out that we are able to remain connected, lighthearted, and strong. I encourage whoever is reading this to tell someone today how much they mean to you, out of the blue. It will mean more to them than you know, and probably make you feel closer to them and happier, too.

Unfortunately I don’t have a poem for this week, but hopefully some inspiration will hit me soon. This free time may be the perfect opportunity for it to strike. As always, thanks so much for reading, and I hope you have an amazing rest of the day (:

Well, this week I don’t have to worry about having nothing to talk about, or no time to sit and write what’s on my mind. Right now I’m still in my pjs. I didn’t wake up until 10 am, and didn’t start schoolwork until an hour ago (it’s now almost 3pm). While the introvert in me is loving all of this downtime, and it wasn’t hard for me to transition since I already live at home, I can assure you, life has been anything but smooth sailing. On that note, let’s address the elephant in the room: the coronavirus and the feelings of stress, loneliness, or even panic that comes with it.

As many of you know, I work at the Wegmans in State College, which is deemed an essential business, since everyone needs food to survive. So far, my coworkers and managers have been trying to stay optimistic about coming in to work everyday, since we really don’t have any other choice. I’ve been working there for over a year now, made some close friends with other cashiers, spent countless hours earning my way through training to cashier in different departments, you get the picture. I even recently applied for a four year scholarship through the store that would help immensely paying for school (fingers crossed on that one).

Needless to say, I don’t want to quit my job. I’m one of those people that settles in somewhere and stays until it isn’t an option anymore. I like to build up loyalty and trust and remain reliable for those I care about. I value stability. Some might think it’s silly that I’d risk going in during this outbreak for around 10 dollars an hour, but it’s much more than that at the end of the day.

My mom has decided, however, that if I continue working at Wegmans, she doesn’t want me to live at home until this outbreak clears out. So over the last few days, I’ve packed my bags and I’ll be living at my grandparent’s house until further notice. It’s been a bit hard for me to respect their decision, as I view it as irrational and overbearing. Sending me away to individuals who are older does not seem like the best decision, seeing as those are the people who are most high risk. My mom is afraid that my brother, Tyler, who has Crohn’s disease and is therefore immunocompromised, will catch the virus from me if I were to get it. So I guess, in a way, I am being pre-quarantined by my own family.

The media is certainly good at telling us not to panic while preceding to shove the information down our throats and make it hard to ignore, which results in panic. I am by no means minimizing the severity of this issue, I take it very seriously and I will be doing everything I can to stay safe during all this, washing my hands, using hand sanitizer, and taking a shower when I get home.

I don’t know how long I’ll be away from my own house, possibly a few months, maybe more. I’m writing this and putting it out there for you all so you know that if your family is also panicking, you aren’t alone. Things aren’t always black-and-white, and sometimes there isn’t a right answer, but we will get through it.

This poem is kind of random and isn’t entirely related, but in the spirit of getting more sleep, or the freedom to stay up later and sleep in (in my case) I’d like to share a poem I wrote a few years ago about that blissful, quiet state when you’re snuggled up in bed, just before drifting off. I hope you enjoy (:

Restless

What is sleep?

I love the silence

Never dream anyway

The thoughts I keep

Acts of defiance

Finally slip away

Woe is me

Alone in the dim

Under the starry sky

Covers are free

Out on a limb

Kiss my worries goodbye

Weight of the world

Lift with vengeance

Seek solitude and peace

Pages unfurled

Solace, presence

Tell me

What is sleep?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wishing you all a smooth sailing time at home, not only with your family, but with yourself and your own thoughts. We can get through this if we seek to be supportive and loving as opposed to divided and panicked. Also, not sure who will be reading this, but if anyone wants to talk (: let me know!! Thank you so much for reading and as always, see ya next time.

Well friends and classmates, we have arrived at the last class before spring break. This is the last assignment standing between myself and lying in bed for a week and a half guilt-free, perhaps finishing Pokemon Ultra Moon, (finally) and definitely sleeping in every single day. Also, I’m telling myself I’ll make it to the gym almost every day as well, but we’ll see how that goes.

Ironically, when I first sat down to write this, I couldn’t think of any monumental week events. Everything sort of blended together. Then I went to my calendar and started writing down what I did this week and oh boy, let me just tell you, it was a lot. I selected one particularly chaotic day, Tuesday, to recount and hopefully provide some insightful commentary on.

It started off simple enough, with Statistics class, followed by my last test before break, which happened to be for Criminology class, and then a walk to the Hub to kill time before my last class of the day. As soon as I make it to the Hub and sit down, however, I realize all of the cards that usually reside in the stick-on wallet on the back of my phone had fallen out of not only the wallet but also my raincoat pocket. This isn’t just my student ID we’re talking about here, this is a debit card, my license, my medical insurance card, everything.

So I do what any sane person does, and retrace my steps from the Hub to the testing center not one, not two, but five times. I also go into the testing center and ask the ladies at the desk (holding back panicked tears) if anyone has turned them in. No such luck. By this point I am having an internal anxiety attack, but I keep my composure.

My last class is fast approaching and eventually I give up and show up to that class, my mind wandering to who has all of my information. In the middle of my sulking, I get an email on my open laptop from an unfamiliar email address. The Hub information desk lists all of my cards and says they have been turned in and I can pick them up anytime. My anxiety subsides almost as quickly as it had rushed over me. Moral of the story: get an actual wallet, lol.

Tuesday night my family also went to Penn State’s last men’s home basketball game. I endured a torrential downpour to walk from central campus to the BJC, without an umbrella, but it was worth it. The team ended up pulling far ahead in the first half, then losing steam and ultimately succumbing to Michigan by a few points in the second. However, getting to spend even a few hours with my family after being so busy with school is always a win.

After the game, my little brother, Devon, and many other first to fifth graders who participate in Hoops, a basketball program run by my old elementary school, OLV, got to scrimmage on the Penn State court wayyyy past their bedtimes. I was even yawning profusely at that point, but it was super cute to see them all having such a good time getting their jerseys signed by some of the players, and pretending to be just like them.

My mind wandered to how full-circle this moment was for me, seeing my little brother follow in my footsteps and participate in the same program that sparked my interest in basketball for many years, while sitting in a seat at a Penn State arena, a school which I am now old enough to attend. Time is flying by so fast and it’s these little moments that make everything leading up to this point, even losing my entire identity apparently, worth it.

Maybe I’ll never get to return to when life was simple, but perhaps I can ensure the life I’m living is one I want to live instead. Mindfulness is a scientifically proven psychological technique that helps not only calm anxiety, but remind us of what truly matters in the present. Here’s a short poem about savoring the moment to hopefully kickstart your spring break as well as mine:

My Path

I wanted my path to be linear

Didn’t account for twists and turns

Forgot to plan for when the wind blows

And the fire forgets to burn

I wanted the road to be smooth

Wanted to feel out every bump

And avoid every blockade

Before it even came up

But reality doesn’t allow

Perfection for perfection’s sake

Reality wants you to capitalize

On victories as well as mistakes

I found myself stuck in a rut

Blinded, thinking ten steps ahead

I should’ve been smelling the roses

I should’ve been living instead

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now go out there and have a fantastic spring break!! Remember that you deserve time off from your work, you are not wasted space when you take time to yourself, and you will come back twice as amazing once you’ve taken some much needed time to rest. P.S. those are all things I needed to hear myself, so I thought I’d pass them on to you too (: And as always, thank you so much for reading my post, and see ya next time!!

I had plans last Friday, Valentine’s Day, to spend the evening alone in my room, eating chocolate I bought myself, watching Youtube room makeover/beauty videos, living my best life. For many people, myself included, this day brings that slight twinge of loneliness all single people feel to the forefront, and to mask that, I like to treat myself to some me time.

It was a somewhat stressful, busy day at school. I had arrived home from my four classes on edge, very eager to relax and spend time with the family before my time to myself. My mom always insists on getting my brothers and I small gifts, normally just chocolate, but this year it was something else. My little brother, Devon (8), had also expressed interest in playing a family game.

My friend Greta from high school that now also attends PSU had invited me to go out with her to a party that night. Not much of a partier to begin with, and mildly exhausted already, I was thankful I had an excuse to turn her down. She enthusiastically responded that family comes first and to have fun, and I thanked her. Had I known what would happen next, I may have thought differently.

It all started when my grandfather called to ask if I had my tax forms that my mom had been saving for me. No big deal, the deadline is April 15th to file, but I was worried that if I didn’t ask my mom for the forms now, I would forget to and miss this deadline. So I rush downstairs to the kitchen and ask, and my mom becomes mildly agitated that I popped the question when she was busy cooking dinner.

On top of this, she asked me to drive my cousin, who also attends PSU, to my grandparent’s house for a family dinner they were holding that we would all attend for his birthday next week. I tell her I will not be able to make it there on time, as my classes end at 4:30 and the dinner starts at 5. I park all the way in the commuter lot, so it is a trek just to walk to the car, much less pick someone else up. We are all tired and mildly annoyed, and naturally, this starts a huge family fight.

They tell me I’m being unreasonable and never want to help out. I tell them I just want my tax forms and that their expectations of me are unrealistically high. This is all done in not so nice words as opposed to the eloquent language I’m using now. You get the picture.

Fuming, I go upstairs to take a shower. I decide I’m not going to stick around for a family game. I’m going out. I text Greta and tell her I’ll meet her downtown. I expect my mom to be overprotective, even more so now that she’s mildly upset. I start to plan in my head how I’ll sneak out.

I’m in the shower, and I hear a ping from my phone. I ignore it until I dry off and get dressed in something a bit out of my comfort zone. In the back of my mind, I’m hoping I meet Prince Charming or Princess Jasmine and run somewhere far away to live happily ever after away from all worries. I know we’re going to a house party and its understood there are casual hookups only and my dreams are futile, but still. My mind wanders.

The message was from my mom. She apologizes before I do. The text says “I’m sorry, can we be friends?” I rush back downstairs, wearing a coat to hide the low-cut shirt I have on.

I give her a hug and I apologize too. I never got my gift because of this whole ordeal, I hadn’t even eaten dinner. Devon and my mom watch as I open a brand new shirt with matching earrings. I heat dinner up and eat it. My mom asks where I’m going and she just tells me to be careful.

I had been expecting the absolute worst, but I felt the reigns loosen. I felt the love return. I went out with Greta, met some drunk people she called friends. Still hate parties, but just talking with her, even surrounded by strangers, improves my mood even more.

I drive myself home that night and arrive at around 1 am. I have work in the morning at Wegmans and I know I need sleep. I never did get to watch Youtube in bed alone. I didn’t eat a single piece of chocolate. I didn’t even play a family game. But I was not alone on Valentine’s Day. It was nothing like I pictured, and oddly, it was better than that.

Despite the flaws I may face in my everyday life, it continues to surprise me. I realized that I don’t need anyone else to fulfill some desire for attention, but I am also not alone. I learned that I shouldn’t always expect the worst, because what I anticipate is likely far from reality. Living life spontaneously may get you into trouble, but it is absolutely essential sometimes.

No, I didn’t live a fairytale. No, it wasn’t everything I wanted. But at the end of the day, I felt loved. And that’s all anyone can ask for on a day like Valentine’s Day.

First and foremost, take care of yourself. Stand up for what you believe in. Life and love will come to you. It may take time. I know I’m still waiting. My relationships, romantic or not, are imperfect, but they are strong.

In the spirit of spontaneity, here’s a poem I wrote a while back. It seems this is a lesson I’ve been relearning throughout my life, and I truly may never get over, being a hopeless planner. But anyways, I hope you enjoy (:

Wonder

Wouldn’t it be nice if I didn’t have to wonder
Where I’d end up and if it was right
Then I could relax and focus on success
And get exponentially more sleep at night

Wouldn’t I be happier if life was a gift
To unwrap, with a silver bow
And I had it, right here in my own hands
No questions asked, I’d just know

That everything was made for me
Exactly to my tastes
Without having to find what they are
Without any time to waste

And I’d travel and see the world
Just as I’d pictured it’d be
A part of the breathtaking beauty
Foretold in the magazines

Simplicity is easily
What everyone dreams is theirs
But if life was mapped out for me
There wouldn’t be a reason to care

And as much as I love getting up
At 11 am to a schedule- free day
There’s a certain wonder and excitement
In mystery and making a way

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you enjoyed reading about my chaotic Valentine’s Day fiasco, and it possibly made you feel a little better about your own. I know I had fun recapping it, lol. As always, thank you to whoever took the time to read this, you da best (: see ya next time!

We’re almost a month into school, and time has flown in my opinion. I have already taken my first Statistics exam (which went well by the way, but I anticipate the class getting much harder) and I have three, count em, three, exams next week. Psychology, Criminology, and another Statistics exam. I expect to be working hard in this class too, I’m excited about the topic of stem cell research and designer babies, because I can genuinely see the argument from both angles and I’m not exactly sure what I even believe, so I’m excited to research further and see what our team comes up with.

School aside, everything has been pretty chill at home. My brother’s birthday was February 2nd and I ordered him a birthday present from Vineyard Vines, but of course, they sent me the wrong thing so I had to call and get it corrected. The correct package should be arriving soon. On top of this, my brother recently gave his senior speech to the entire school at assembly. It’s a reigning tradition at St. Joseph’s Catholic Academy, where the total student body is about 200 students, for each of the around 40 seniors to give an 8-1o min speech about their time there and their future plans. It’s a big deal, nerve racking to say the least, and no one wants to mess it up. I’m proud of him for doing so well, and I’m also proud that we went to the Waffle Shop afterwards, lol. Instead of a birthday gift, Tyler (that’s his name) always asks to take a trip to King of Prussia Mall with the family, and I’ve already taken off work at Wegmans that day to make sure I can go with everyone on the 16th. He’s an adult now, so I told him he has to be more responsible, but we’ll see how that goes.

In other news, my aunt and uncle just had a baby (: A little background: my mom’s brother, Uncle Mike, as we call him, and his wife, Aunt Amanda, have been trying to conceive for some time. My aunt had breast cancer and beat it a few years ago, and she was told to wait about a year after remission to ensure the treatments didn’t harm the baby in any way. However, when they did start trying, they discovered that it was hard for her to conceive despite their best efforts for other reasons. It took three rounds of in vitro fertilization (IVF) for Nico to come into our lives. During her entire pregnancy, we were told that he could die at any time. The fact that he survived the entire term and is now happy and healthy and theirs is a miracle. Our family is planning on going up to see them in St. Louis during Spring Break and I can’t wait (:

There’s a lot more going on than I thought, and it kind of nullifies my next poem, but my mind is still in the same place. I’m so thankful for everything I have, but I think deep down, everyone is searching for something more, and sometimes we don’t even know what that something is. I’ve had this nagging feeling in the back of my mind off and on for several years, and as the poem describes, I’m not sure it will ever go away, or if what I’m looking for is even attainable in life, or a figment of my imagination. Let me know if you’ve every felt this way or what comes to mind when you read this, I’m curious to see:

All I Know

There’s something that I’m looking for

I don’t know what it is

Admiration

Validation

Something close, but left unsaid

I push it to the back of my head

I have things to get done

Places to be

People to see

But when I’m through

Answering to

Everyone

There’s something I wish

Was left for me

A little piece of certainty

It’s so rare

That feeling of content

That self-satisfaction

It’s almost like we’re not meant

To be quenched

By living life alone

And that is all I know

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m super excited though, truly, cause last week I had mentioned I haven’t been inspired to write a poem in a long, long time, and even though this poem is about internal conflict, it is still something written on paper that I’m proud of, and that is a lot more than I could say I’d done a week ago. I know I sound like a complete nerd, and I am. Until next time!! I hope whoever you are, you enjoyed at least some part of reading this and you have a fantastic rest of your day! See ya soon (:

Hello everyone, I’m back again (: Since I don’t know who will be reading this blogpost, I’ll give a little synopsis of my formatting. It’s very simple, very informal, and normally consists of a short recap of a certain portion of my life along with an embedded message of some kind. I try to be inspirational, but sometimes, if it’s a hard week, I won’t shy away from honesty. Luckily, this week, even though school is picking up again, I’m feeling optimistic.

The New Year has me thinking about a lot of things, one of which has been to start working out again. I haven’t been as on top of this since high school and organized sports (I did track and basketball) and I find it much harder to strike up motivation when I’m not part of a group. However, my friend and I have started going to free PSU workout classes in the White Building and that’s been nice. We do HIIT which stands for high intensity interval training, or a bunch of short spurts of different exercises with very short breaks, for 45 mins straight. It can be pretty intense, and I’m always sweating afterwards, but it gets the job done.

For me, anything that brings awareness to my body or forces me to engage and interact with the real world instead of starring at a screen (I know it’s cliche, but bear with me) forces me to examine my relationship with myself. And to be honest, it can be painful to do that. It’s much easier to get caught up in the white noise buzzing around you, news headlines, other people’s drama, an interesting Netflix show or Youtube series. I distract myself from myself 24/7 because it’s easier. Therefore, I’m left feeling cold, empty, isolated, confused, or all of the above.

My New Year’s Resolution was to workout more, as many people’s tends to be, but I don’t think it was ever about body image as much as it was about self- awareness. As a creative person, I want to be inspired, to have spunk and passion and a zest for life, and I remember a time when I had much more of that and was churning out my own creative content almost every day. Now, that same inspirational spark is on a hiatus, and has been for longer than I would like.

Anyone who makes any form of art can attest to this, if you lose your sense of self, your direction, your vision, you lose everything. Nothing makes sense to you as the creator and it is evident to the reader. If you try to force yourself to sit down and write a poem, it comes out as incoherent rambling (and some of you may be thinking, “like you’re doing now?” I rest my case).

There’s a silver lining to this, I promise. Now that I have identified that I need to focus on myself more, my direction in life, and what I want, I am free to redefine myself in 2020 and throughout this new semester. It may seem like a simple revelation, but I want this to be a launching point for something bigger than myself. Don’t know what that is yet, but I’ll get back to you on that (:

I want to leave you with a very short poem I wrote a few years ago. It isn’t my best work by any means, but it’s relevant to the topic at hand. I intend to start incorporating my poetry into these posts, since it is a cornerstone of who I am and a reflection of myself, which I am still trying to find. Here it is:

I’ll Fly

Nine to five

Makes me wish

I wasn’t alive

Early mornings

Crush my spirit

My best work is at night

Deadlines

String me out

And suck my creativity dry

But leave it be

Set me free

And I promise you

I’ll fly

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You may be thinking, “did you really just create an entire post about how you don’t know what to write about?” And the answer, my friend, is yes, I absolutely did. As always, thank you so much to whoever took the time to read this (: Hope you have a fantastic rest of your day, and see ya soon.

This is the last passion blog of the semester, and I have successfully turned this platform into my semi-public diary, which wasn’t exactly my initial vision, but I think that’s what I wanted deep inside. Aaannnddd it flows perfectly into a recap of the semester, which was suggested to us anyways. This semester in general, but particularly this class, have pushed me beyond my limits in a good way, and I feel I’ve grown because of it.

I don’t think I’ll ever completely overcome my fear of public speaking, but I gave two speeches, and improved from the first to the last. In fact, the second one I went entirely off-script, which is TERRIFYING to me as as a die-hard planner, yet I still managed to stay coherent and get my points across, which is a huge step for me.

The papers, especially the second one, challenged me as a writer in a way I’m not used to. Not to brag, but writing is kinda my thing, and even I was struggling to choose a topic and research thoroughly enough to fill eight pages. And don’t even get me started on the video project. I stared at that screen longer than any person should and I refuse to think about it again until this weekend when we polish it up.

But beyond the logistics and the assignments, I met people who I can truly say have become my friends. I think I owe it to whoever reads this to explain what I’ve been alluding to ominously every few blogs about; the events of last year (promise it comes full circle). The truth is, I should be a sophomore in college right now, and I theoretically shouldn’t even be attending PSU, although I grew up here. Let me explain:

I graduated high school in May 2018, and was all set to attend The University of Pittsburgh in the fall of that same year (that’s right, one of our main rival schools. I was a rebel, ok?). However, for a few years prior to graduation, my stress and anxiety had been building up steadily (let’s face it, eleventh grade did us all in). To make a long story short, I was in a horrible place mentally to make a gigantic life change, move away from home, and take on the world. A few months into being there, I felt myself becoming more and more isolated, and less and less motivated, and one night I called up my mom crying telling her I couldn’t do it anymore. I almost wanted her to tell me to suck it up, maybe she would let me vent and carry on, but of course, her motherly instincts kicked in, and she said she’d be there the next day to pick me up and take me home.

The perfectionist in me was absolutely shattered. Every step of the way, the drive home, the aftermath, the what ifs and the what am I gonna do nows overwhelmed me. I couldn’t help feeling like a failure, even though I knew my situation was quite common. I decided I must be weak if I was the one who decided to give up so early, and I retreated into a period of isolation and depression for weeks, crying regularly and feeling hopeless. It seems absolutely ridiculous, looking back now, seeing how far I’ve come, but I was that nervous wreck and I was at the lowest point I’d been at for perhaps my entire life thus far. It was brutal.

I hesitate sharing this story with anyone new who comes into my life, because I don’t want it to define me. It’s much easier to say “I’m Veronica, I’m a freshman, nice to meet you.” I am no longer ashamed of this story, and I no longer think of myself as weak or lesser because of it. I’m also much less afraid, and much less unsure of myself than I was before. It’s not so much about how much adversity you can avoid, it’s more about how much adversity you can overcome. I wish I had known that before, and been much more gentle with myself. My friends from high school and my family saw me at my worst for those few months, but they never stopped supporting me. And look at me now 🙂

I think it’s safe to say Penn State is my new home. It’s always been a small part of my life, living here and appreciating how passionate the alumni and students are about their school. I never really understood their unwavering devotion to it, their faces painted in blue and white, but I think I’m starting to. I’d like to thank the entire class and Professor Taheri for contributing in part to my success this semester. I’ve already made it farther than I did the first go round, and I feel like I might just be up for four years (or 6, but we’ll get to that when we get to that). And as always, I’d like to thank whoever’s reading this 🙂 you’re one of my favorites (not to be biased or anything).

Thank you, Rhetoric and Civic Life I. See ya in Rhetoric and Civic Life II. I’ll miss you all just a little I think.