I Remember… (Second Edition)

I remember being in a new place and feeling overwhelmed and homesick and lonely…

…I remember crying in bed because I didn’t know what else to do.


I remember being with you and feeling…so normal…so right.


I remember that locale that felt like a home away from home in a foreign place. 


I remember feeling free…and exhilarated…and on top of the world, on top of life. 


I remember how I couldn’t stop smiling, until I wasn’t–until tears were splattering down my face. Continue reading “I Remember… (Second Edition)”


“I think the scariest part of feeling is that more often than not, they don’t appeal to logic.”

Em looked into his eyes with a wry smile on her face. He blushed, quickly looked away, fearing eye contact at the moment when eye contact was most necessary.

They were thinking the same thing, of course. The difference was, he didn’t want to admit it.

Seconds passed. She could tell he was choosing his words carefully.


“So…what are you saying?”  Only because he wanted her to say it first; he knew exactly what she Continue reading “Intuition”

Word Porn, Courtesy of Victor Hugo

“A writer is a world trapped in a person”

Because I’m sitting here in Thailand trying to figure out how to write what I need to write…but the words aren’t coming.

Because this quote showed up on my Facebook newsfeed just as the vulnerability of my writing uncertainties kicked in.

Because this is one of the truest statements I have ever read.

February 21, 2015, Late Evening

I’m feeling anxious right now and I don’t know why. 

I’ve been feeling anxious most of the day.

I did yoga. It helped.

I blogged. It, too, helped.

But I’m still anxious. My chest is burning from this anxiety. 

It’s not an entirely hopeless anxious. I have so much to be excited for, really, and I am excited. Yet, I’m still anxious and this burning is uncomfortable and I don’t want to go to bed feeling this way

Maybe its because I know my world is changing. It is changing as I write this. I am not the same person I was last year, six months ago, even last week. I an constantly changing, and it’s beautiful, wonderful, amazing. 
Continue readingFebruary 21, 2015, Late Evening

This is a Rough Draft. It’s Due Tomorrow. I am Publishing it on My Blog. Okay?

This is an experiment. My lack of productivity is too real right now and I need to write the rough draft of this paper. A short while ago, I was staring at Microsoft Word for a good ten minutes without any avail. Amazingly, I was able to force three sentences of halfway decent writing onto the page. Then, my brain stopped working (okay, well, if it actually stopped working I’d be dead, but what I’m trying to say is I had no motivation to continue writing). I was at a loss for words. I had no inspiration. Instead, I played a game of 2048. I looked to see if there were any new posts on Instagram (nope). I spent five more minutes staring at the page, the three sentences I had managed to write glaring at me in disappointment; why can’t you complete us, Britta? they asked. I then complained to my friend and classmate who is sitting across the table from me about my lack of inspiration and how real my procrastination has become.

Then I had an idea.

When I am writing posts on WordPress, the words come to me. I feel inspired. Unlike the dreary and, quite frankly, depressing white space provided by a blank document on Microsoft Word, I feel enlivened when I’m writing on WordPress. Well, part of that is because I know I’m not writing for school on WordPress. Continue reading “This is a Rough Draft. It’s Due Tomorrow. I am Publishing it on My Blog. Okay?”

Writing is the Wurst

**Disclaimer** I take absolutely no credit for the title of this blog post or the visual provided below. See below for more details.

So, I’ve talking about this Understanding Writing class I’ve been taking this semester, right? Okay, well, I feel like I’ve actually been more gushing about it than anything.

You might be asking, “What is this strange and mysterious class, Britta? What Continue reading “Writing is the Wurst”

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