creative writing?

It’s not Thanksgiving Yet Sept. 18 2023

I have applied for 8 jobs today. Maybe I’ll hear from one. Lately I’m picturing myself going down a wormhole where I’m being spit out at the same desk, same apartment, same life 30 years later. The likelihood of that being true is minimal, but being here for 3 years feels like 30, especially when I pride myself in being surrounded by individuals who are being great every day. Of course, I’m great in my own ways, but must I be great? Must I break the proverbial glass ceiling and be the smartest, most successful, most selfless? The most well rounded and balanced? Have the best roasted Brussel sprout recipe, make the best homemade brownies? Have the perfect advice to travel the world along with the budget to match, and the perfect suggestions for paint samples and art dealers?

I can’t be all those things. I don’t know if I necessarily want to be.

At the end of the day, I may not have it all. I have enough. I work at my job that gives me enough to enjoy my evenings. I did make the Brussel sprouts, and I sent a picture to my mom and my boyfriend, who seem charmed enough. I’m able to rest and turn on my favorite brain off, minimally engaging set of series: the three Girls. Gossip Girl, Gilmore Girls, and Girls. I will have a sweet phone call with my boyfriend, and an ice cream nightcap, followed by several book pages before my eyes get heavy. 

Company by LB Sept. 5 2023

What do you write about when every subject has been combed over, discussed, analyzed, corrected, critiqued, expressed, uttered, discarded—only to resurface, retweeted, emailed, texted, handwritten in cursive, handwritten in chicken scratch, put in a 5th grade diary with 4 entries, put in a 7th grade diary where the pages are bled through on both sides, published, acclaimed, awarded, and forever memorialized?

What is your contribution to a conversation where you can play a game of Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, where every topic has an intersection, an intervention, an argument, harmony and agreement, dissent, interaction within the scholarship, a crossroads that is bumper to bumper with everyone who has something to share?

Does it matter? I have experienced love, life, the pursuit of happiness, anguish, rejection, acceptance, belly laughs and cheeks muscles stronger than my biceps, crying on the shower floor at 3 am holding myself in my own arms, finding new colors in the sky, beating the moon in an all-nighter—these are the things that I’m glad I share with others.

Feeling like you are behind when it comes to your personal achievement and creativity is a disappointment. Some take it harder than others. As a girl who didn’t hear that people were proud of her enough, I am tipped toward the end of that spectrum. I may be stuck at the drawing board of original thoughts in constant pursuit of “my contribution” in the professional, academic, and creative world-- but personally I am hand and hand, cheek to cheek with humanity—what company to be in!