you can't move when there's honey all over you!

(Please forgive the title of this post...it will all make sense soon enough, I promise.)
So. It's 11 at night and I'm sitting outside my dorm room with my laptop, feeling oh so very college-like. It's kind of great, actually. Jared (my roommate, by the way) has an 8 AM tomorrow so he's asleep, and I don't have to be up until 8, so I figured I would let him sleep and do my socializing outside the room. I know, I know. I'm an awesome roommate. Also, it gives me a great space to observe dorm life. For instance: Girl down the hall (who shall remain nameless for the sake of her good reputation) has had three male visitors come to her room in the span of literally 30 minutes. Which isn't against the rules or anything but it definitely looks sketchy to me. Her roommate just walked in and said, "Oh, wow. I don't know these people." And she left looking really freaked out. There's a guy in the stairwell Skyping his girlfriend. Awwwww. Except he doesn't have headphones in so I can essentially hear his entire conversation as it reverberates throughout the hall. Sigh.
Boys.
Because I don't have an infinite amount of time to type this (I would like to try and get as much sleep as possible), I won't go into a whole lot of detail regarding my past few days here at Elon. Basically, move in went well; my roommate is exactly like me; my hall is amazing; classes are stressful but good; orientation was essentially a weekend designed to keep us as busy as possible; and I'm now taking more hours than I had originally planned, including a Chorale class which has me so excited!
So, the title of this post:
We had a hypnotist here last night as a way to kick off the school year. His name was Tom Deluca and he was...beyond amazing. I wish I had been able to record the things he did because it's truly not something you would believe if I told you. So I won't. Okay, so I'll tell you one part but only because it explains the title. He essentially hypnotized this one guy and told him that whenever he heard the word "Elon," he would become the school's biggest cheerleader but he wouldn't know what our mascot was. So the kid woke up and, sure enough, when Tom said, "Welcome to Elon!" the kid jumped up and started screaming, "Yeah!! Go Elon!! Go...Elon...go?" and he seriously had no idea what our mascot was (it's the Phoenix, fyi) and so then he just made up one. So we became the bears, randomly. And he started screaming, "Pour honey on 'em guys!! Bears go pour the honey! We'll kill the other team because you can't move when there's honey all over you!!" And it was one of THE funniest things I've ever seen. So yeah...one of those inside jokes that won't make any sense to anybody except Elon kids but I thought I'd share.
Moral of the story: Life is good.

just came to say goodbye, love

I leave for college in two days. TWO. I'm so full of emotion you'd think I was about to embark on some sort of new journey, leaving everything I know behind to dive head first into an unknown future...
Oh, wait.
In so many ways, I'm ready. And in so many ways, I'm not. I'm packed (mostly), I've said my goodbyes, and I'm essentially counting down the days to Elon.
However, I've yet to finish my beloved summer reading, China Road. Saying goodbye has thus far royally sucked. I'm absolutely certain I've forgotten something...these are the ways in which I'm not ready.
I guess, in essence, it all comes down to trust. Trusting that Elon will be everything I've built it up to be, that the people will be as welcoming, the classes as exciting, the experience as life-changing. Elon has a lot to live up to.
Then there's trusting that those I'm leaving behind will be okay. I know my mom cries on a regular basis, and that's with me still here. Other people who I won't mention...I will miss them more than I think they know. Will they be okay--and if not, how can I help from so far away?
Lastly, I have to trust someone called myself. That's the hardest part, I think. Will I make all the right choices? Did I make the right choice by picking Elon? Will I live up to my own expectations?
Trust. It's a weird word indeed...a noun and a verb, a thing and an action.
Do I have it? Or, more importantly, can I do it?

"We're never so vulnerable than when we trust someone--but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy."

on labels...

Because it's currently almost 4 in the morning, and because my brain isn't functioning enough to create a fully sound argument, this will be a short post. I just need to get this idea out of my brain:
Why are we as a people so obsessed with labeling everything we see? It's simply never enough to just have something or to be something or to know something. We must categorize, create a hierarchy, divide, point out nuances, label label label until our little label makers are broken and screaming, "NO MORE!"
For example: In today's world, it's not enough to just be "a Christian." No no, my Jesus-loving friends, you must be more than that! Are you a Methodist? a Presbyterian? an Episcopalian? a Lutheran (and if so, which synod?) or are you, heaven-forbid, a Catholic? because Catholics are different, you know, they aren't exactly "Christian." It's ridiculous to the point of actually being divisive. We spend so much time labeling and dividing that we end up creating factions that ultimately tear apart the very thing which we originally sought to be a part of.
In politics, you aren't an active member until you've chosen a Party. Why? Why must I associate myself with one narrow-minded group that really only functions to yell across the aisle? I don't want to be a Democrat or a Republican or a Libertarian or anything of the sort. I'd like to just be an American, please.
In a nutshell.
We like what we like, we love who we love, we are who we are.
Label that.

from the archives...

As I went about the process of clearing out my flash drive for this upcoming semester, I stumbled upon this lovely composition. It was written on a whim during my summer at GHP, and I was fortunate enough to read it at Coffee House. It's not perfect, but it's me :)

I am dissonance—

rising, falling,

intertwined in my own

confused paradox—

harsh, jarring, unresolved—yet

beautiful in my own

juxtaposition of sound and

Truth.

I am sunlight—

blinding even to myself—

Glaring.

A Glorious display of a

not so Glorious self.

I hide behind my brilliant light,

masking my dense inner Core.

Those who witness my intensity

probe and question, awestruck and—

I just question.

I am wind—

Wild, Untamable—

Master of my own Indecision.

I cannot be held in a bag,

O great Odysseus!

The Night comes and I settle,

rising, falling—

tying the drawstrings as I

enclose myself in a

scratchy burlap sack of

my own Creation.

I am soul—

filled with the amorous Jealousy of

the Black Ram, pushing forward,

pulling, doubting—

The Ancient clutches me in his trustworthy hands,

molding, spinning,

shaping my Truth into a

Grotesque, Distorted image of

what I Am

Not.

But I allow it, because perhaps…

I am seeker—

yearning for what my pale hands fail to

Grasp,

reaching the Pinnacle, unable to breathe—

a white haze hangs over me.

I raise my eyes, staring into the Emptiness—

my Emptiness—

and I sound my own barbaric Yawp,

not over the roofs of the world

but over the walls and ceilings of my

self-perpetuated Frustration.

I am—

I teeter on the skeletal Edge of

my Emptiness and

my Past,

knowing (hoping) that somewhere,

beyond this impenetrable self-barrier,

lies a place where dissonance—

sunlight—

wind—

soul—and

seeker

Rise up and take their place among

Truth and

Self.

I will rise up, for—

I am Wings.

all's fair in love and war...maybe

I know many of you will read this post and say to yourselves, "He's eighteen, what can he possibly know about love?" Well. To you naysayers, I simply must say that I have been fortunate to know more than my share of love, and, to put it bluntly (and a tad bit cliche-ly), it's changed my life. Forever. I won't spend time drawing out the details of exactly what I'm talking about for several reasons, but I will say this. I know how it feels to love and to be loved, and I question daily which of the two I cherish the most. Ultimately, however, I made a decision, one which haunts me to this day and which, while I know it was the "right" one, I still question. I threw away that which I had been so blessed to have, and I hurt the one that I loved more than I think I'll ever possibly understand. Forgiveness and reconciliation have proven to be tricky things to conquer, things which we're still working out. There are days when I feel somewhat normal, when it seems like my life is moving on like I said it would...and then there are days when I just know I've made a huge mistake. To put it simply, I'm working on it, and it's most definitely a process. The thing that I fear the most is never regaining the trust of the one that used to trust me implicitly. Do I even deserve that trust? I'm not sure...
Okay, so I promise that this blog won't always be filled  with my melancholy thoughts on love, but. I felt the need to express them today and I hope you'll forgive me.

Until next time, here's a little something from an absolutely phenomenal new musical called "Next to Normal."

"Day after day,
Give me clouds, and rain and gray.
Give me pain, if that's what's real.
It's the price we pay to feel.
The price of love is loss,
But still we pay.
We love anyway.
And when the night has finally gone.
And when we see the new day dawn.
We'll wonder how we wandered for so long, so blind.
The wasted world we thought we knew,
The light will make it look brand new.
So let it
Shine, shine, shine.

Day after day ,
We'll find the will to find our way.
Knowing that the darkest skies will someday see the sun.
When our long night is done,
There will be light."

and thus began his last first-attempt at blogging...

It's official: I have a problem, a phobia, a disease. I can't keep a blog to save my life. And, as I pondered this sudden realization, it hit me that maybe, just maybe, I never had much of anything to say up until this point. I've tried the whole, "Let's tell the world about my exciting high school life," bit, as well as the, "Let's do movie reviews!" thing. Neither were very successful.
I think the problem was that, as with many things in my life, I was simply trying too hard. Profundity cannot simply be forced into existence, this I've learned. It has to self-create and express itself on its own time.
So. Here we are. I start my new life at Elon University in 16 days, and I could not be more excited/scared/nervous/happy/anxious/AAHHHHHH. I'm a regular Holden Caulfield (Side Note: The English Major in me wants to throw in as many literary references as possible. Go read The Catcher in the Rye and tell me you didn't like it. We'll talk.) So far, I have high hopes for my college experience. I'm going to a school that's small, beautiful (it's a botanical garden!), and safe; I'm in the Honors Program, which could prove to be more intimidating than I'm letting on; my roommate is absolutely spectacular (theater major, essentially my twin); and I'll be in college, getting the opportunity to start over and meet new people and think deeply and truly become the person that I've started catching glimpses of here and there this year. I'm hoping that this blog will...
Actually, no. I have no hopes or expectations for this blog. And I definitely don't mean that in a negative way! I'm simply saying that, starting now, I'm choosing to let this blog happen as it happens. No themes, no musts, no pressure. Just me :)
Let's keep our fingers crossed, shall we?
One thing I would like to keep constant with this blog is my inclusion of things that have affected me, either in my past or in my present (and maybe my future). I'll end each post with some sort of...something, be it a poem or an excerpt or simply a thought that has crossed my mind.This post's something is a poem by Walt Whitman (a personal favorite) entitled, "A Clear Midnight." It's what inspired the title of this blog!

"This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson
 done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the
 themes thou lovest best,
Night, sleep, death and the stars."