Category Archives: Thoughts

On Writing

I started this blog back in February of 2015 in my freshman year with a transformative Creative Writing class. The class itself wasn’t all that transformative, yeah I learned good writing techniques and words for things I was already experimenting with. But I was transformed. I learned that my words were important. That people wanted to understand my perspective on life whether that was my Grandma or people from the 122 countries who have visited my words.

When I first started I was writing literally every day with multiple pieces per day. I joined the NaPoWriMo movement in April where you are, supposed to, a write a poem per day for the whole month. I ended up posting 50 pieces on my blog that month. I was always scribbling in one of several notebooks or typing a free verse up. I loved how I felt having finished a poem, the satisfaction that occured.

I continued on at this level for a couple years. In the process my poems and creative essays were published nine times and I had my play produced by a major university. I posted at least 3 times a week. Sure it was difficult to keep to the schedule sometimes, but it was worth it.

I made some great connects with fellow bloggers, some by their words and others talking personally. I follow so many other people’s lives no matter whether it is told through poems, pictures, or write ups about their day. I have found a great community here on WordPress.

But last year my Junior year of testing, huge academic stress, and personal issues hit and my urge for writing slipped. This wasn’t a writer’s block, I’ve dealt with that many times. This was different. To be honest, for the past year almost all of my posts have been saved from years ago that I dug up to have something to show. Sure, writing still gave me pleasure and release, but it wasn’t as much needed as before. I yearned for it’s satisfaction, and yet somehow I didn’t feel like something was missing.

A spark of inspiration would hit that a year ago would have taken a good 250 words to explain, but it would pass before I could get my fingertips to keys. No matter how hard I tried no logical form of letters would escape my keyboard. (You can read a poem about this here)

It’s been over a year since I’ve written my novel. In a year’s time I’ve written only ten poems. I’ve written two short stories in a year. That’s it.

It’s sad.

But I’m accepting it.

However during this time, I have also written a play that received high praise and discussed options for touring. I also written another play to try to see if a third piece can be performed at the major university to break the record there for amount one person’s work has been performed. But my motivations were different for these. I wrote for others, not for myself.

I’ve been writing all my life (read a piece about it here) and have continued to keep a journal for five years. I still have been doing this and have no intention of stopping. It’s fitting though that the journal I’m writing in its cover says, “My Journal: The Original Blog”. Sometimes I just record what I did that day, a funny story, a perceptive. Other days I write lengthy opinions, prayers, parallelism to my life, poems, frantic thoughts.

I don’t want to say good-bye to this place made up of ones and zero and yet which is so so so much more. This has been my life for four years. I’ve written so much. Honestly, sometimes I stumble upons a piece that I completely have forgotten I wrote. Like the words are new to me and they came from my brain only a year ago.

I miss writing poetry the most, a form of expression that I thought was silly years ago. It is true thought captured on a page. (I explain what poetry is to me here)

I will continue to be here. And my blog will continue to be here. But my blog and I will not continue to be here together.

This send off is hard. It’s heavy. It’s thick. But it’s not messy. I knew it was coming for a time.

Writing is still and always will be a major part of my life, but it will depend which part. Writing for everyone and anyone, for a small group of readers, or simply for me.

So I’ll still be around, writing and wandering. But this blog is going to be static for a while. I don’t know how long a while is, but there are 432 other pieces of mine to read.

See me later,

~MavelVarietal

Think of You

I can’t not think of you

when I see a sunrise

I can’t not think of you

when I see Phineas and Ferb

I can’t not think of you

when I hear a sneeze

I can’t not think of you

when I see a lamb

I can’t not think of you

when I hear “Let Her Go”

I can’t not think of you

when I see white with cream

I can’t not think of you

when I see an elephant

I can’t not think of you

when I see a card game

but isn’t that the way life is suppose to be?

Filled not only with things and experiences

but with people

to define those things and experiences.

And so I think of all the people

that fill and define my life

with a smile

because that is what each of you

make me think of

California_High_Desert_Sunrise

Wikimedia/Jessie Eastland

Memories’s Magic Act

When the world seems too much

When the weather in my mind is rainy

When that familiar ache in my heart whistles its melancholy tune

When I miss you

Then I will think of this moment

I will think of it briefly and sparingly

Just enough to see the sun and change the melody in my heart

Because the more I relive a moment

The less its potency

It fades until the smile it gives

Is only a marred reflection

Of smiles past

How sorrowful it is indeed

That our favorite memories

Disappear

But that just means that we have to make new ones

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user:Unsplash

Role Models

I have found that

role models that I’ve never met in real life

aren’t role models at all,

only people who I think are good at what they do

but no one I should model myself after

because they are good at what they do

and I should be good at what I do

not at what they do.

I have found that

role models that I see everyday

are the best role models

because they are not only role models

but they are people who care about me

and I care about them.

I can see their daily struggles

and not just the ones the camera catches.

I can talk to them and they can talk to me

So I want to thank you

all my role models,

but especially the ones

who know me and love me personally

because you have had a personal hand in making me, me

so thank you for being you, the real you

Plans, Tears, and the Creator of the Universe

I was having a hard day some time ago, neither my day or my future seemed like it was going to plan. I was heavy hearted and disheartened, but I couldn’t let the signs of it show.

One thing that you should know about me is that I plan. I plan and scheme and layout my life on an Excel spreadsheet (literally, I’m not joking). I have contingency plans for contingency plans. I stay up late, laying in bed, planning my future so that nothing takes me by surprise.

It’s not that I don’t like surprises, I just like to feel in control, I like to feel safe and know where I’m standing and know where I want to go.

And so when it seemed like my life was not going according to plan or any contingency plan, I felt powerless. I felt lost and helpless and insecure.

I wanted to cry (because that fixes everything (I’m actually joking this time)), I wanted to scream at the world to put itself back in the little box I put it in, I wanted to dream up some plan to fix all this. But my heart was in control and not my head. Oh, the horrible and wondering things that can happen when the heart is in control!

So I walked through the halls holding my shattered plans in my hands and holding my tears in my eyes.

Two of my favorite quotes popped in my head, “The first casualty of any battle is the plan of attack,” by Cory Doctorow and “If plan A doesn’t work, the alphabet has 25 more letters,” by Claire Cook. But I wasn’t in the mood for inspirational speeches especially if I was the one giving it.

So I finally get to my locker and look up at the Cross magnet I have on it, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” [Italics added] That is God’s work right there. I change my magnet every couple of weeks and it was just by chance that I had Jeremiah 29: 11 up. I was lamenting over my broken plans and the verse used plans three times. God knows the plan; His plan is never broken; He is never caught by surprise; He is always in control. I am secure in His plan. I was upset over my plan when God said that He would give me one of His plans. And I’d take one of God’s plans compared to one of mine, anyday.

The conflict isn’t completely resolved but it is looking better. God said that His plan gives me hope, and it sure has. My heavy heart is now a happy heart. I don’t need my head to be in control when I know that God is in control. I don’t need a plan to make me feel safe; I have faith in the Lord Almighty. And faith is much better than any plan.


“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

2 Corinthians 12:9

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Pixabay/bykst

To Be Celebrated

Some things are meant

To be celebrated

With a flurry of handshakes

Or kind words of “well done”

Some things are meant

To be celebrated

With group hugs

Or pats on the back

Some things are meant

To be celebrated

With hurried phone calls

Or squeals of joy

Others things are meant

To be celebrated

With thankful prayers

And silent, smiling hearts

celebrate

In That Moment

It was one of those moments

where it seemed to stretch on forever

because it does.

I will carry

that peace

that excitement

that serenity

that safety

that bliss

that openness

that fun

that freedom

that love

forever

because I have chosen

for that

for this

moment

to never end.

Life may take me

hundreds of miles aways

and scores of years past

but that moment

this moment

will live on

as long as I do.

In that moment,

I felt an overwhelming

gratefulness for my life

and for the people who

make it worthwhile,

oh so much more than worthwhile

It is truly a blessing

to feel the love of life,

and I did

and I still do

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user:Unsplash

Trapped

You used to come so easy to me,

and now I can hardly get a phrase out.

I string together a few letters

and a gust of wind blows them away

higher than any kite in the sky,

but I can still see it.

I yearn for the writing high,

that ache filled.

I crave the feeling of accomplishment

when finishing a piece

and having nothing left to exhale.

It seems like I can’t even

breathe out anymore

with how much my words are trapped.

And it hurts

me

it hurts

to not be able to write

something so simple

and hugely complex.

I miss it.

I’m trapped:

Ask me to write a scholarship essay,

I’ll have it to you in 20 minutes.

Quiz me on Gutenberg printing press influence on the Protestant Reformation in a short answer essay,

I will provide exquisite details bringing a tear to any teacher’s eye.

For my own pleasure,

write a poem or chapter in my novel.

. . . nothing . . .

If I didn’t know better,

I’d think I have forgotten how.

And the little inspiration

I have had

d

i

s

a

p

p

e

a

r

s

Select Few

How is it that something so magnificently gorgeous

has become mundane?

How is it that beauty

no longer stops the world

just to stand in awe of it?

How is it that splendor

became normal?

How is it that a fly

is something you swat at

and not wonder at?

How is it that the letter  “T”

is in almost every sentence

and we do not hold it in reverence

whenever we cross those lines?

How is it that sharpening a pencil

does not astound us

in its incredible feat?

How is it that God created all the world

but we only revel in the glory of a select few?

California_High_Desert_Sunrise

Wikimedia/Jessie Eastland

The Moon, My Friend

The moon, though, is a different matter entirely

Forever bolstering a light not his own

His limited and frugal glow

Barely enough to see by

Compared to his older sister

Who laughs unbashedly

And flings wide her embrace

At every chance meeting

Moon lits up not the sky

But just a path

Not enough to see the world by

And sometimes not even him

He promises to be by my side

Then leaves after a couple of days

He smiles wide

But it is pock marked and grey

No where near as joyous as his sister’s

He is always hiding something,

Never telling the full story

I would call moon a fickle friend

Not necessarily entertaining when he’s here

But at least he’s strong enough

To bare and show his scars

And maybe he shines just enough

To illuminate the important things

As for his inconsistent presence

Ever thought to wonder if

He wants to leave?

Supermoon, September 28, 2015 (UTC), Osaka, Japan.

Supermoon, September 28, 2015 (UTC), Osaka, Japan.