Writing is a superpower

As I'm venturing out beyond 'journalism' in my writing, I've realized something about myself - it's not about the "job", it's about the passion I have for the work I do. Writing is a way for me to leave my mark on the world, a way for me to impact enormous amounts of people (someday) by what I have put on paper.

I am actually at peace with my writing now - not stressed out about what my bosses are going to think or what the repercussions of dropping an F*bomb may be. I love writing because of what I can accomplish with it - I can preserve a memory, I can stop time. How many other activities do you get to have a superpower?

Sammy-isms

If you can be nice, be nice.
If you can be calm, be calm.
If you can kick him in the nuts, refrain until there is a crowd to watch him pee himself.

Ommmmmm.....I feel more at peace already

Tell me a story

I walked out of Hazen Hall into the Quad today. Today, all that was left were three crows playing on the grass were the only living creatures apart from myself in the square - you may not think crows play but they're quite jovial animals. I walked past them and they just stopped and stared, as though I didn't really belong there. I was invading the territory they had taken over.

The sound of the flags snapping in the crisp wind and the dry leaves being swirled across the brick path were the only sounds I heard. My heels echoed sharply against the cement walkway as I moved across this deserted area, an invader within my own home.

It's a discombobulating feeling, knowing that only a few weeks ago students were racing through the paths, across the grass to class, sitting on the bench enjoying a coffee and cigarette, laying under the tree for a quick break...and now, it's totally empty, drained of life. Slightly haunting.

These areas that are supposed to be loud, supposed to be active, have a feeling almost visible in the air when deserted. It's almost as if their energy knows there is supposed to be activity, commotion...anything. It's just waiting for something to happen but in the meantime, the buildings, the benches, even the grass just wait anxiously for that spark that will ignite them, wake them up from their dormant slumber.

January is coming and with it, the renewed energy of students hustling to smoke faster, not be late for class, and hide their faces against the sharp attack of the winter wind. January is coming but for now, winter break is upon us.

It's just a writer thing

On the 19th at 8:30am, a time I rarely bother to wake for, I'll be heading back into the halls of hell known as high school. As EIC of The B, and a writer in University, I offered to drop by and explain what my job is, how it works for me and how doing it opens doors...and here's what I can't tell the eager young minds I'll attempt to mold.

-Drinking is a coping mechanism. Angry? Hungry? Exhausted? Bored? Writers block? Have a shot or two and call it a night. Yes, people say drinking shouldn't be a coping mechanism but really, my favorite thoughts come from a whiskey-soaked brain at times.

-People do things in your office that would make a CSI team giggle with excitement. Enjoy those thoughts and break out the Lysol.

-You will never get paid enough when your writing is harshly criticized.

-You'll never be the best. Strive for better than most.

-You may attempt to inject coffee into your veins. Also, your IV bag when you do this will have some sort of stimulant.

-You'll consider doing drugs...you may or may not reconsider.

-You won't have time for a healthy relationship.

-Smoking is not really optional...you want to believe it is but at 3am on a production weekend, sobbing over an essay that just isn't getting done...do whatever.

-You'll never trust anyone fully and you'll be able to spot even a tiny lie from a distance.

But the one thing I can tell them: If you love it, none of this crap matters.