uncomfortably numb

Transition is like my new home. Never able to really settle in and get comfortable, but I'm always too blessed to feel anything but guilty whenever I complain and call my life crappy.

I still do though. Y'all know this fact all too well. Me and my ragging about not being able to write while I am writing. It's kind of pathetic actually. And I must laugh at myself. It is required.

The thing is I like feeling things. I like being able to laugh at myself, my jokes and others' truly stupid humor. I like being grateful and showing my appreciation. There's something so healing about focusing on what's helping you grow—even if it's some of the stuff that makes you cry or want to kick junk. I don't like being upset though. It wracks my soul to have so much to be genuinely sad and grief-stricken over while still striving to get over it and keep going with joy in my heart. I keep at it because I know it's possible. More than possible even, it is readily available as soon as I get over the hard things.

So while I still feel "unable to write" a lot of the time lately, I am not going to allow myself to get comfortable with this sensation.

a few more days

If I hadn't written every day, I would tell you I didn't know where March went. It has flown by even with the daily task of writing these slices feeling like a big challenge. I mean, there are only four more slices, and then it's over. Crazy stuff.

I am proud of most of the slices I wrote. Because of all of the writers I've been reading, I have felt more inspired than I have in a long time, and that made all the difference. I do wish I hadn't had that day when I forgot to write and had to post-date the thing, so I could mark the events that caused me to run out of time. But overall, I am pleased with my work. But there's more to consider.

After Slice of Life is over, April arrives with National Poetry Month. That has been just as much cause for concern as these slices—if not more. Poetry must be inspired for it to do its work and to be simply decent to read! I do not want any of you faithful readers to want to poke your eyes out!

Since I haven't blogged any real poetry in several months now, I decided to begin jotting down draft work. Every time I get even a pinch of inspiration or sentimentality, etc., I stop and write as much as I can. I don't necessarily have the whole idea down, but fragments are better than nothing, and I can always develop the ideas. Another thing about this is I don't have ANY photos set aside as inspiration, and I typically use photos to support my poetic notions. I just can't seem to allow myself that luxury (I did break out of my photographic famine a few times during this slice fest, so that felt like real progress.). But who knows how it will pan out with poetry I haven't even figured out how to accept and set free for public scrutiny.

So many thoughts. When all is said and done, these things I've discussed are small potatoes. So small. However, they are important to me as I try to develop my talents and live artistically.

Here's to the few days left of this slicing party and moving onto bigger things such as writing poetry and end of the school year stress! Oh yeah!

Seeking to Become - March 2017

 Today, I am thinking about how education opens doors of opportunity but also how it can close others in the process—depending upon our choices.

Throughout my college education (and even still), I checked myself for feeling as if I am too grand or above others. I would pray for humility and understanding. I didn't like what I'd seen so far of people who decided that their faith was nothing the more they learned of secular things. I did not want to become faithless as I sought to better my lot in life.

When I was searching the scriptures for a quality to cultivate, this scripture was the one that stood out most:
"But to be learned is good if they hearken unto the counsels of God." 
2 Nephi 9:29
These words speak to my soul. It reminded me of when I would pray to be humble in my learning. We are taught to learn all we can, for knowledge and our family are all we take into eternity with us. The clothes we wear and house we live in and car that we drive won't be coming with us—just what we know and our family.

That scripture tells me that there is nothing inherently wrong with being a know-it-all even, so long as you know you don't know it all. Christ's example of learning, teaching, and sharing with others in humility shows us how to go about gaining our knowledge. We must not forget by whom we are able to learn, grow, and enjoy life itself.

I hope you will join me in seeking to become more like Jesus Christ in the aspect of how we use our knowledge for good—for ourselves and in serving God.

pulling all-nighters

Or A Word to the Wise

It doesn't happen all the time, but when it does, I pay. 

You'd think I would figure out how decidedly messed up I get after staying up all night and hence figure out how to intelligently stop the harmful practice. But, no. I am a glutton for self-punishment. One thing I must admit is I know how to have fun. This can be quite an accomplishment. I can't remember the last time I could honestly say I was bored—there are just too many important, entertaining, and valuable things to do 24/7. Maybe I see things like this because I'm from Las Vegas. Who knows.

Reorganizing and deep cleaning projects are a catalyst for lost sleep, as well as work that I truly enjoy and writing and so forth. More of my nocturnal habits include watching movies, reading books that are too good to put down, so they do the opposite of putting me to sleep, and photo editing.

My latest and greatest source of joy and lost sleep is my volleyball hobby. The people there have become such a happy part of my life—and a torture. We stay up way too late! Another funny thing actually is some of my favorites have come up with a nickname for me: Angry Laura. I wonder if they've secretly been following my rants on Twitter.


“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” — C.S. Lewis 
Walking the streets of a small town is like my heart. Little shops here and there that are careworn but well loved. Empty spots where the tenant has vacated or been evicted, but still there is an empty place where they once tended to business. There are cracks along the sidewalks, yet there is a charm in every walk down the lane. Walls have crackled paint but are all the more endearing for their wear.

I love the love I've offered and given in my life. While I have also cried more tears than I wish to admit, I do not regret letting myself care as much as I have and do. But I have one thing that has been pressing upon my mind lately.

A wish.

My wish (and prayer) is that I don't have to have any more bad sad endings. I don't want to have another love adding a notch in my nostalgia belt. I want to love someone who actually loves me back in all reality. Does any of that even make sense? I hope so because I know I am worth all of that. I even know that I actually deserve it.

Someday, it will happen for me because I keep my heart vulnerably open despite the chipped paint and vacancy sign that is collecting dust.