The First Draft

"Write drunk; edit sober."

Coffee Shop Vibes

First, I apologize for the typical Millennial title. I just went with the first gut feeling.

A small local-owned coffee shop is one of those places where reality seems slightly altered.

As I looked down at the leaf design in my frothy latte, I couldn’t help but get lost in the world around me.

We chose a seat by a giant mirror with the words “The Chamber of Secrets has been opened enemies of the heir… beware.” Obviously, any Harry Potter fan would have a ball with this place.

My caramel-and-chocolate-flavored latte satisfied both my taste buds and my soul.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the future.

What would happen if I looked for an extra job for the summer?

What would happen if I said, “Screw it,” to everything and just adventured?

How hard do I have to work for my dreams to come true ASAP?

The world is full of so many possibilities. It’s hard to find things to add to your plate that won’t push you over the edge.

It’s like when you’re a child, and everyone asks you what you want to be when you grow up. And the possibilities are endless.

And then you grow up and cross off 90 percent of those things because they’re unrealistic.


What if they aren’t?

I’ve reached a second part of my life where everything seems in reach again.

I can travel the world and blog. I can be the editor-in-chief of some high-class New York magazine. I can continue my education for as long as I desire, regardless of cost.

Each day brings me more opportunities. I am surrounded by individuals who inspire me and support me. I am surrounded by people who also believe they can leave this place and go anywhere.

Who says we can’t?

We are the future. And though we’re currently stuck in 8 a.m. lectures and spending our free moments studying in coffee shops, we will be the next CEOs and presidents. It’s undeniable.

The world is here for us to make our own.

And we will.

But first, I’ll finish my coffee. I have a long ride ahead of me. I’ll need all the caffeine I can get.

Fuel the fire

Fuel the fire within you.

Let it burn. Let it rage.

Let it lead you to marvelous things.

The world is full of so much hesitancy.

Do it. Don’t think. Just do it.


Fuel the fire with love and passion and emotion.

Spark the flame that creates an inferno.

A hint of light won’t do.

Fill with flashes of yellow and gold,

Until it bursts out of you.


Then watch as your fire spreads,

Creating a domino effect of expressive voices.

Can I live without you?

Can I live without you?

Of course I can. But why would I want to?

I could go on with my life, attempting to forget that you were ever a part of it.

And I would still be me.

But I would not be the me that I am when I’m with you. The better me. The happier me. 

It’s such an ugly thought, to go on without the thing that gives you joy.

Yet sometimes the mind wanders there. Only to remind you to never let that person go.

To remind you to value the things in life that mean the most to you.

So, can I live without you?

Of course I can. But why would I want to?


Half-written drafts.

Unfinished thoughts.

It’s so easy to feel,

But so damn hard to write.


Take in every flower

Take in every flower.

Every butterfly.

Every smile.

Every ounce of passion.

Absorb the happiness.

Reflect the beauty. 

Become the good in the world.

The one

Find the one that breathes a sigh of relief when they see you.

That says, “Finally. There you are.”

That hugs on to you tight, so you’ll never be separated again.

Half a lifetime has gone by without one another.

Though I suppose life only begins once you find the one. 

So rest. Hold on tight. Happier days are ahead.

What I learned at the top of the parking deck

Thursday. 10 p.m.

It’s been a long day/week/semester, and quite frankly I’m beat.

My roommate and I ventured from our room for food to be greeted by mountains of clouds in the distance. Dark, deep gray with a layer of even darker and deeper gray behind it.

The clouds soared overtop of the horizon.

And just at the edges shown a hint of pink. The kind of pink that seems fluorescent against the gloomy sky.

After the rain, the atmosphere filled with the smell of wet pavement and the feeling of wholeness. It’s the calm before the storm.

The dark clouds and light sprinkle only warned us for the storm rolling in over the hills.

Eager to get a better look at the sunset, we went to find higher ground. Somewhere the buildings wouldn’t get in the way of our view.

The parking deck. Perfect.


It doesn’t sound as poetic in words, but at the time, it did the trick.

Leaning against the railing, I could feel the wind in my hair. The wind that would normally frustrate me as a part of Indiana, Pa.

This time it felt different. It was calming.

For a few moments, I could forget about my hectic day. I could forget about my work that I have to do tomorrow and my exams that are coming up.

For a few moments, I could just focus on the simple pleasures of life as I watched a flash of lightning light up a small section of the clouds.

The lightning accentuated the pink. Complimenting it. One, a soft ray. The other, a destructive force. Both beautiful.

For the first time in a while, I was able to leave my own body. Forget I’m a person.

I could stand on the parking deck.

And watch the sun set.


Pretty little package

Once there was a pretty little package,

Wrapped in fine paper and tied with lace.

It resembled all things beautiful and pure.

But no one thought to look inside to see,

The sad little girl inside the pretty little package.

For no one looked past the first glance.

They saw a soft smile and shiny blonde hair,

All must be well.

But one look into the eyes told otherwise.


Maybe the sun doesn’t shine when you’re all alone,

And rain drops fall from a clear, blue sky.

Sometimes birds don’t sing their song to you,

But hush their flocks when you walk by.
Each day drags on. Each second. Each hour.

Darkening, decaying, slipping away.

But what you encounter, the same for the flower.

Although it still blossoms every May.
When your world fills with darkness and gloom,

Remember the daffodil suffered winter before it could bloom. 

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