From February, 2018

Too Much To Ask

Wrapped around my heart is a string of knots. Each knot is specially tied, one of a kind. Sometimes they are untied, and sometimes new ones are put in their place. And sometimes old knots become undone, just to be retied a year or two later. It’s been said that I never do something without reason, and it’s true. When I decide its time for one to come undone, my heart cracks just a bit. And my mind goes in circles, wondering. It doesn’t like losing knots, especially those that become weathered with time. I’ve gotten better at the untying…

Two marshmallows and an oompa-loompa walk into an Icelandic bar

It’s the second Friday since we arrived home from Iceland, and Emma, Maguiña, and I are eating dinner together. We also did this last Saturday, but with the addition of Emma’s boyfriend, Julius. Anyways, we’re sitting there eating, and I get hit with a question from Emma asking when I’m going to write a blog post about Iceland. I cringe a bit because of how corny the situation is, but then Maguiña echoes her question too. In fact this is the second time I’ve gotten this request from Maguiña. So here’s to you two cheeseballs, dying to read my mind…

Sherlocking through life

Les bons moments de la vie me font sourire ainsi que les souvenivs–Alexandre I’m sitting at my desk, and I’m reading my yellow Journalism textbook for class. Portugal by Walk the Moon is playing, and I’m just itching to become something. Say something, write something. So I set my book aside, and start. I think I’ve decided that I am a storyteller, and that’s my main drive for my fascination with journalism lately. I love listening to other people’s stories, and I like telling my own, clearly. And it was a few days ago that I’ve put a few puzzle…