Completeness

The person you go to,

to talk about everything.

The person you go to,

to make sure that you are OK.

The person you go to,

to just be with.

The person who,

without, you wouldn’t know what to do.

The person who you trust with every fiber of your being.

The person who means more to you than anything else in the world;

who brightens even your darkest days;

who will always be there-

even if you are miles apart.

            Nothing comes between you and this person.

You are so alike,

you just know how that person is feeling by looking into that person’s eyes.

And when frustration passes between the two of you,

you feel like you might throw something because you don’t want to be upset with that person.

You feel utterly alone when the tension is high,

but neither of you do well with confrontation,

and you know that the only thing you can do is just

cool off.

            It’s the purest, most unconditional love around.

It’s the feeling of being home when you are in that person’s arms,

no matter how far away your house is.

It’s the ache,

deep in the pit of your stomach,

when you have to be somewhere that person isn’t.

It’s the feeling you get when you remember how you felt

when that person picked you up from the airport after the week

when you were on the other side of the country.

It’s knowing,

that even in the hardest times,

that person will make you laugh and forget what is stressing you out.

            You owe your life to this person.

Without this person,

you are nothing.

Without this person,

you literally would not be you.

Half of your genes-

yep, they are her’s.

Her genes are my genes.

She is my mother.

My best friend,

and biggest fan.

She’s a super hero in fabulous jeans,

and she is all mine.

She’s my chauffeur,

my personal chef,

and my biggest role model.

            My mom is so incredibly important to me. I feel empty if I don’t know what she thinks about everything I do. I work my little booty off to make her proud. And I know that I don’t tell her enough, but I appreciate everything she does for me. Without expecting anything in return, she just does what needs to be done.

No matter how hard I try,

she will still be there for me-

to coach me,

carry me,

or just let me vent whatever worries I have.

            She is the greatest,

most beautiful

and strong willed woman I’ve ever met.

I am so alike to her,

but I could never be her.

She is my sunshine,

and she will forever be my best friend.

A View From The Higheway

      Scrambling cars zip over and under, finding their winding path from Canada to Mexico. I am The Highway. I am engineered to withstand rain, snow, sunshine and you, and I never see a dime of your taxes. And I see the changing seasons, growing trees, birth and death. I live and breathe and do nothing all day and night to make sure that you get where you are going. I know what it’s like to live.

      It’s wet, and it’s cold, and yet you keep driving. I wonder if you are going someplace warm. The trees are all changing, and the horizon looks like a glorious bouquet of burning leaves. Commuters zip back and fourth- Salem to Portland, Portland to Salem. Yakking on cell phones- texting a friend. I see the crashes, and I hope and pray for every car I embrace in my wide-open arms that you get where you are going. I know what it’s like to live.

      It’s dry, and it’s warm, and the rain will be coming soon. But the hills are still burnt from the blazing sun and wild fires. This part of my road is a sad and barren place, stretching from the north end of California to the south end of Oregon. There aren’t any sheep, no cows or farms to be seen. There are only hills of nutrient deficient soil. A few birds might give me something to watch, however those bright blue skies haven’t seen the birds in a while- they haven’t started migrating yet. You might even be something interesting to watch if you weren’t a snoozing little kitty in this relentless, natural, basking sun. I may be as bored out of my mind as you are, but I’m here, doing my job to get you where you are going. I know what it’s like to live.

      It’s smoggy, and it’s hot, and people are always moving a million miles a minute. On a good day, you can see the hills, but it’s incredibly difficult to see them today. There are business people, families, and movie stars zipping around L.A. They hop on for a few miles, headed to Anaheim, Beverly Hills, or Hollywood. The children bounce in the back of those mini vans from out of town; they are going to see Mickey today, you know. High-powered executives, who needed whatever they were given today done yesterday, are impatiently, aggressively, audibly passing my other passengers like they own the place. There are plenty of things to see when you slow down a bit, but I know that you won’t, for you need to get where you are going. At least I know what it’s like to live.

      It’s breezy, and it’s warm, and there are plenty of people out enjoying the natural wonders of the beach. The hills and the water sparkle in contrasting greens and blues, respectively. The paths around the home of Shamu seem to be crawling with people who just want to go out and get a good jog, roller blade race, or bike ride in. I sit, and I watch, and I hope that the hundreds of pounds of power cords don’t fall down on my precious cargo. The Seals are “storming the beach”. But you mustn’t worry about them; the Navy knows what it is doing, and will keep you safe. They are getting to where they are going, and so are you. And I know what it’s like to live.

      It’s foggy, and it’s chilly, and there are boats in the bay if you look hard enough. The bridges and the islands are all visible from here, and I can see that you admire them. And what isn’t there to admire when you know that thousands of tons of metal stay perfectly in sync, withstanding huge ocean gusts, the frequent earthquakes of San Francisco, and the metal decaying sea air. On the shining hills to the east, I praise the “green thinkers” who have constructed the hundreds of windmills. Energy in its purest form; that’s what will get you where you are going. See, you are learning what it’s like to live.

      It’s dark, and it’s hard, and you will never be anywhere without it. I am The Highway, and I see everything. I appreciate the natural, honest, brutal changes that are displayed before me. And I wonder if I will ever be the headline of the local papers for something that is good. I see the death of young, stupid, innocent adolescents, and I hope that they didn’t die in vain. I hope that they got to where they are going. But the most that I ever hope for is that they truly learned what it’s like to live.

Creative Nonfiction

This is, I know an extremely random post today. And I know that I havent't posted anything in FOREVER! And I apologize... Yet, I am writing today to fulfill a class requirement. In my Creative Nonfiction writing class, we have been working on a lot of different essays. One of our final projects is to publish on of our essays. But I wrote a couple of really good papers, and so I am going to share them with you! =D 

However, they are both very long essays, so I am going to post them individually... A View From The Highway I wrote first, thus you may want to read that one first... and then Completeness I wrote later. I really hope that you enjoy them, and I would love some feedback on them, if you want to comment! =D