My life this week was filled with intentional action. It feels good to be off my feet for once.

One thing, is that, I don't get involved with the campus cultural pursuits all too much. Strange because I am a person filled with passion for cultural things, but I don't partake in a lot of things that go on at my Campus (I guess one reason is that I sometimes feel like CNU is a joke anyways. But in fact, the students and faculty have been stepping up lately to make it a better place.)


So where is this bringing me to? I submitted some of my work to Currents, the campus literary magazine. Something I never thought to do before this semester, even though I love to write. Yesterday, even before the deadline, I found 3 poems that weren't too confessional (as every piece I write is either confessional or uber confessional), and then, inspired, I wrote another. I submitted four them. Even if they don't make it in, I still feel good about engaging myself in the campus arts culture. I hide too often in the christian sub-culture here.


I guess my free verse always shows that not much time is put into my piees. But I can't help but the love the fluidity of free verse so much more than imposed structure. Someday, I'll get into the pattern of rhyme scales, sonnets and iambic petameter. It's called English 353 (poetry writing) and it'll kick my butt.

With that said, I wrote this yesterday. In 10 minutes.

Here I am,
At last!
All alone.
The constant noise
of people flittering about
has now past.
Here I am.

What to do now?

When I’m with people
I talk
and listen
express
make jokes
share stories
share heartaches
play.
free being who I am
with everyone
but me.

now here I am.
alone again
free from the
social anxieties of the day
but wait.
anxiety is still a person
and here I am.
all alone.
a voice from within shouts out
“Stupid! Stupid!
You are stupid filth.”
I tremble,
and I cry,
and cry out
or I feel nothing at all
the pain is numb.
when I cry, I know I’m alive.