Penned in Green

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further college hell

Okay, so remember when I was all gung ho and I was like “yeah guys this is it!!!! I’m getting college essays out, 1 per day for 30 days!!!!” HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA So I wrote ONE essay (and not even a good relevant essay haha) and took a turn right into the wall that is writers block. Really, top notch timing as a senior in the month (by which I mean week and a half) before early applications are due. 

So I came back here, where I always wind up when I’m super clogged and haven’t the slightest idea what to do. It’s 1:14 in the morning. I’m going to just write until I fall asleep. I’m going to write stories, poems, whatever I got to get my noggin movin’ again because oh my god this is literally the worst WHO AM IIIIIIII (@jean valjean pls help) 

But before that I’m going to come up with a plan, to try and limit the amount of further fuck ups in my path, because they are as countless as the cracks in said path. 

So, I have between now and virtually the 27th of October, because I want to make the November 1st deadline for most of my colleges and I have work from like the 28th, to the 1st which is just fab. That’s eight days. Between now and Saturday, I want my common app essay done. That gives me three days, but I’m going to get a bunch of first drafts ready by Friday, so I can show them to someone for their opinions, to choose the best of them. Then, Saturday, I’m going to make final edits to the essay, and put it da hell into dat app!1!111 

Then, I’m going to dedicate three hours of Sunday to filling in sections of the common app, and the rest of the day writing up my supplementals. Then Monday, I’m going to ask the same person (honestly, they’re easily the best teacher I’ve ever had, god bless) if she’d be willing to review them. And then Monday, I’m going to put those in as well. Now theoretically, by this point I’d be ready to send them in but I’m a fucking mess honestly. 

Now this is hella cheesy but I should probably make some commitments here. 

Okay #1. I’m not going to go easy on myself. I do this thing where I’m like “oh shit there goes the time welp thats done” NOOOOOOOO. It sucks haha. I’m going to hold myself accountable to getting this shit done. 

#2. I’m not going to get overwhelmed by all the shit I have flying around right now, because that’s another thing I have a tendency to do. I’m going to stay on top of it all.   

Alternative plan in case plan one doesnt work out: 

-Just write nonstop between now and Sunday morning at 8am, so that I have all of saturday to write. 

-Use sunday to get my supplementals written. 

-Give them to said awesome teacher on Monday. Spend monday evening just kind of filling in all of common app 

-By this point it’s the 24th, so I should be in tip top shape. 

Aaaaaaaaaaah. 

Also can I just say this itself is over 530 words, the hell cant the common app essay be that easy to knock out. Goddamn it. 

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Song For Alaska

 Lying side by side,  Captured in the beauty of your bright green endless eyes, Sharing bottles of pink wine.  Radiant mystery,  Lurking in your secrets, flirting with insanity,  You’re in all my favorite memories.  Run, run, run, run,  Leave me with a million questions,  Forget to give me all of the pieces,  To your puzzle, I’m trying to solve,  Could I have helped you stay strong?  I would walk the world for you,  But I wish I’d just held on to you,  Out of the blue, you’re gone.  And I’m on my own,  Singing Alaska’s song.  Took my hand and my heart, and with it my breath,  I love you still like I loved you then.  Your drunken breath, in my mind, still remains fresh,  I’m looking, I’m looking for you.  Wish you’d chosen the labyrinth.  Was it real at the very end? Straight and fast, was that how you went? And you and me- we’re only in my head. Run run run run, Leave me with a million questions, Forget to give me all of the pieces,  To your puzzle I’m trying to solve. Could I have helped you belong? I would walk the world for you, But if I’d only held on to you. And suddenly, you’re gone. And I’m on my own,  Singing Alaska’s song.  

So this too is a part of the Great Phone Exodus, I wrote this in 2012, maybe 2011? It was right after I read the book and I remember being so taken by it, and I guess it inspired this? It was such a long time ago, it makes me sad that I barely remember the book anymore. Because of that, even though my writing has definitely evolved since, I haven’t really changed anything, because I dont want to inadvertently change the meaning. I hope if you’re reading this (and unlike mine, your memory span is greater than that of a spoon) that you got some of the references holed in there! As always, thanks for your time(: 

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Unfinished

I learned from you.  

I learned words from you. I learned to walk from you. I learned to run from you.

I couldn't run from you. 

I've had this on my phone for a while but it never felt quite finished enough for PIG but I've actually grown to kind of like that, I think. I suppose it kind of fits with what the thing is getting at? I'm going to be periodically putting old stuff on here over the couple of days, because I have no storage on my phone so I have to delete everything. So the format will probably periodically just be a mess, I cant technology. Thanks for your time!

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Fire (song)

You’re just a new face to miss, And I told myself, I wouldn’t let it come to this.

From the moment that I knew, Oh I told myself, That I couldn’t fall for you.

When did the warning bells stop ringing, When did I open the door?  When did the firemen call it a lost cause,  And let the fire just roar? The sand collected at the bottom of the hourglass,  Just as I foretold, And oh how I wish I had never known.

I had it right at the start, When I promised myself, I would hold on to my heart. But you swept me off my feet, And now I’m haunted, By your memory.

I’m shelving boxes I thought that you’d checked off, And all the things, I left your mark on, And all my favorite places invaded,  How am I disappointed, when I was without expectation?

When did I say this time would be easier, When it was time for goodbye? When did I mark this down as wasted time, And let it just slip by?  We have our places in separate worlds, That do not intertwine. Yet suddenly, you’re in all of mine.

You’re just a new face to miss. And I told myself, That it wouldn’t come to this.  

Goodbyes really suck haha

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I’m really over you. That’s weird. 

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Tick, tock, ring

A pounding in my chest,  Uninvited is your knell,  Avast avast, toll no more,  Me, but a beast that you abhor, And whip bareback until I find  My insides are no longer mine,  An inky hue within me spreads,  Unleashes tornadoes in my head,  I beg, unshackle, hear the pleas,  Which you drown out so heedlessly , Relentless peels in staccato,  Avast avast, toll no more.  

This is basically me freaking out because college + deadlines + commitments aaaaahhhhhh  

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#1- Clarity

Clarity. People define this word in a million different ways. Awareness. Realization. Serenity. To a huge extent, each of these definitions is a mere extension of the last, so truly the shaping of such a word is limitless. But does shaping that which is without limit not, in itself, bear paradox? A logical fallacy, spawning the loss of awareness, realization and concurrently serenity- obscurity and clarity chasing each other in circles.  Or rather, do these circles represent the cusp where we must choose between consuming or confronting the chaos? Is this where, when faced with interminable fragmentation, we must either integrate with the confusion or become inimitable? For perhaps the paradox begs deeper exploration. Perhaps amongst fragments of chaos fleetingly flutter moments of clarity, yearning capture. And perhaps despite being unable to straighten the circle of chaos and clarity, it is in separating out the latter, that we grow into who we are. 

I found my clarity on the track. And I was lucky- as I followed the circles, I fell in love with the chase. I joined my high school’s track team at the end of my freshman year, a year which exemplified chaos, for I was in the crosshairs of two profoundly different cultures, having recently relocated from India back to America. But by the end of the season, whether instrumented by the diligence that running demands or exacted from sheer exhaustion from way too many (but never enough) miles, the turbulence was replaced by an unshakeable passion for running, which has only grown from there. Whenever I lace up my sneakers and set out for a run, by the time I find my rhythm, I have found whatever it is I’m chasing after- awareness, realization, serenity- clarity. 

I have been running for three years. I have run three seasons of track and two of cross country.  My personal record for a distance of 5K has improved by ten minutes since I started running. These are measures that I can count. But I have circled the track too many times to count. I can’t count the number of miles I’ve run. I can’t count the number of races which left me frustrated, and that which filled me with accomplishment. I can’t count the infinite memories that running has given me. And it is in all of the unmeasurable that I have known clarity. So perhaps clarity doesn’t need to be defined. Perhaps it just needs to be felt, for the paradox to be unpuzzled.                                

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30 Day Essay Writing Challenge????

So the time has come for me to write college essays, and I have absolutely no idea what to write about. To combat my utter ineptitude, I’m challenging myself to write an essay a day for thirty days. Each of these essays are very rough drafts of what I potentially will use for my final essay (aaaaaah). At the end of those thirty days, I’m going to ask a few of my friends to choose their favorite essays (if they’re still my friends after I force them to read thirty essays during the summer)  and then I’m going to work on those, and hopefully use those. If you follow PIG, please please feel free to brutally pick apart these! Honestly, I have no idea if this is going to work or not, but hey, it’s a start, right?  Here’s hoping I stumble across the one?! 

~J

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Little wave, little wave

I marked a rock with words unspoken  And threw the etched rock into a puddle. 

A muddy puddle, betrodden puddle, What a puddle, what puddle?  Ripple, ripple!  Did I foresee? Oh no, what is this  Woe is me,  Where did this little wave collapse?  And this little one here crash, Into a domino from yonder? Oh woe is indeed me!  What a puddle, what puddle  Were you not insignificant? But, This little wave to a shadow, Inject life haunt haunt!  Where now have you gone?  This little wave, travel through the entrails, Nuts, screws, scatter scatter!  This little wave woe, oh woe Flood me! 

But puddle, trifling puddle,  Is your water washed with spite, Must you malign me so, oh woe, why why?    Then the fault- is it but mine? 

A rock- etched- what negligence! Fool! Dare you append, then be so blind,  To let it take you by surprise  What a puddle, what puddle,  Muddy betrodden delicate puddle? Envelop unstated engravings? Ha! Ripple to raze! Folly, mine, Woe, me.  I should’ve left the rock unetched. For, etched, inscribed catastrophe.   ___________________________________________________________

So for a long time, my life hasn’t really been going the way I’ve wanted to. Things are falling apart, left right and center, in varying degrees, and I’ve encountered loss to an extent that I haven’t really been exposed to before. And really, at least on one face of my prism of problems, the root was one mistake. One small lapse in my judgment, that opened the door to heartbreak, betrayal, confusion, dormancy, but worst of all, complacency. Amongst other effects of all of this mess, is my inactivity on this blog- this is the first writing I’ve done in months, because of how clogged I’ve been. So this poem is about throwing a rock into a puddle that’s just kind of your everyday puddle, it’s just there it’s muddy, nothing out of the unusual. But then all of the water jumps out and spreads into every facet of the narrator’s life, wreaking havoc and driving the narrator to a state of confused paranoia. Finally, the narrator realizes their folly, in burdening the rock with their words before casting it carelessly into a puddle, and realizes, too late to amend the situation, that everything that has come to pass is traceable to this one moment of foolishness, to one mistake.  Thank you for your time! Hope you’re having a fantastic day wherever you are! Please stay tuned!! 

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Wings

You can’t take my wings For I have none, I lost them feather by feather Under a million changing suns I’d give you my light, If it vanquished your dark But dimmer and dimmer it grew, Till it wasn’t there at all. But I collected my feathers, In a jar made of light, Strung them together, To see if they’d take flight. Weighed down by loss They fluttered then fell And with them, So did I.

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c r a c k e d

Tie a noose around my broken dreams, Hang them from an old willow tree, A heart of glass, shattered in half, By an arrow laced with tragedy. Hear this eerie melody, Whittling its way through the trees, Love that’s been lost, memories long gone, And a pantomime of what could’ve been. A well worn trail cutting through the woods, The emerging cliff, there she stood, T’was bare but the willow, sunset in slivers, Nearing the edge, down below she looked. In giant waves the ocean heaved, Roaring and crashing in symphony, Over she went, with a ragged breath Echoing the sound of finality. In all the time that came to pass, All that remained of she, A poisoned arrow, a heart of glass, In shards by the willow tree.

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Disjointed

The world was not constructed with a paradigm of perfection to behold.

We are just little puzzle pieces, strewn across this expanse, itching to find a niche we don’t know exists. The flaw in this plan is that we assume that the world is made of collisions, when really, so much of life is asymptotic.

You are an enigma. You make me yearn to know you. You are possibility. You are electricity. You are not mine. You will never be mine.

So much of life is asymptotic.

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When The Fish Forgot To Swim

There is an oath that I’ve heard said, A million times ‘fore, In whispers from the darkest pit, And echoing from the shore.

Since I was a little ‘un, To the day I learned to fend, And no doubt till the day I die, Again, repeated.

Maybe in another world, An honest life I’d live, With a family I could call my own, Till death fill these gills.

But from this path, I did diverge, I looked to make my own. So now I swim, fast as I can, A fairy tale far from home.

Now the stars are my only friends, Their reflections go with me, I follow the path that they have set, To wherever it may lead.

But still the oath rings in my head. It circles with it’s wings, “Once this lesson, you have learnt, You’ll never forget how to swim.”

I suppose then, my question is, what if I want to?

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I was in a coffee shop studying the other day, when I was distracted by a miniscule movement to my left. Over at the table next to me was a young boy and his father. The boy was crawling all over his dad, and the dad was smiling. They were both smiling. There was something so innocent about them, how untouched, how uncomplicated their relationship was. I looked to my left, where a couple sat drinking coffee and making small talk. Their hands were not intertwined. They sat half a table length from each other. They had no contact, save for their crossed ankles. The simplicity of these moments was inspiring. I don’t profess to be an artist, far from! But this was a moment I wanted to remember.

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The Broken Home + The Broken House

The Broken House

I made my way up the winding path, For atop the hill, my broken house sat, The walls were crumbling, the floorboards creaked, And when the sky sobbed, in the rain seeped.

Though our house was broken and cold, Happy were we, for our family was whole, So we lit a fire and gathered around, And mother sung till magic did abound.

T’was joy that chased the demons away, And kept our house standing another day, For within these walls had love not roamed, T’would be but a house, and never a home.

The Broken Home

Once our house was happy and whole, A place I proudly did call home, But now I walk with a heavy step, To a broken home, a spiritless shell.

Our magic faded away with time, Our hearts were no longer intertwined, The crumbling walls didnt matter at all, For our fragile flames were all but gone.

These too are poems that I wrote for a freshman year english assignment, with the theme of innocence and experience. The first poem surrounds the idea that happiness can exist if there is love, even if there is nothing else. It’s how my house was for a long time. The second poem is about how when you’re growing older, it’s easy to grow apart from the people you love. Its harder to tell these people that you love them. And stress builds up and anger follows. And there’s not enough room for love. So go tell the people you love that you love them before you cant(: Thank you for reading! 

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The Curtain Will Fall

Upon this hospital bed, I lie, My time has come, the end is nigh, My candle will flicker and then burn out, But I’ve lived well, without doubt.

I’ve crossed the world, fought the right fights, In different lands, I’ve seen the sun rise, So let me breathe my spirit far, Even after my curtain falls.

I wrote this poem for a high school freshman year poetry assignment, with the theme of Experience. It was really late in the night and I was running out of time, and honestly, inclination, so I picked on one of the easiest topics to write on- Death. A life well spent and at the brink of ending was the epitome of Experience in my freshman eyes. Thank you for reading! 

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Running Home To Me

Along the forest edge you run, And chase after the deer, I lay neath the setting sun, And watch you disappear.

Seasons change but I remain, Watching, so it goes, Leaves fall followed by the snow, Till the sky is crystal clear.

A love so strong, it keeps me warm, It holds me through the raging storm, I hold to you, when you are gone, Knowing you’ll come home.

Passed am I, by all of time, A passenger at my post, Old trees fall as new take root, You’re still my ticket home.

Seasons change once more, I wait, From my eyes, tears fall, then freeze, I know not when, but sure as sun, My love will come running to me.

Come home, honey, I’m withering now, I’m wasting away without wasting a second, Come home, honey, in all of these years, I’m cold for the first time ever.

Let me sleep just a little while, Lay my head down on these pillows, That twine around me, and I dream, One day your arms will rest round me.

You part the tall grass as you run through, Shout “Love, I’ve returned, please dont mind my delay”, It’s taken many a long year to find, Our perfect forever where together we’ll stay.

You find the place you left me last, With a kiss, with a promise you’d be back, Now locked am I, in eternal dreams, But darling, you’ll always hold the key.

I knew you’d come running home to me.

About “Running Home To Me”

“Running Home To Me” is a song I wrote a while ago. I can’t for the life of me remember what inspired the song, but I remember grabbing hold of a pen and a paper next to me, wide awake at 1 am and staying up to finish writing it. Thank you for reading this!