My big brother

        What happened to my big brother that I would always look up to? Did he just vanish into thin air, or did he just become a different person? He use to be the type of brother who would always take care of me, the brother that always knew my likes and dislikes better than myself. The brother I could count on. The brother that actually called his mom “Mom”. He was the one who would help me with homework. He was the one who taught me how to have fun. He was the one who made me who I am. Where is he? 
        What happened to the person who would always play video games with me, laugh at how pathetic I was, and then get me a cookie or some ice cream just to make me feel better? He was the one person who knew how jealous I was of him, but I could still be myself around him. I didn’t have to pretend to be what my parents wanted me to be, or what family expected from me, or how my friends expected me to be. I could stay up talking to him for countless hours, and then he’d lie saying he was going to sleep just so I would rest. We’d get into fights over stupid things, even though I knew that in the end he’d win, just like always. If I ever got hurt he would laugh, but he also taught me to be strong. He taught me not to take everything so seriously. 
        I know my brother changed after my parents had their divorce. He was always the independent, smart, confident type of guy. After the divorce, things just changed. We still did stuff together like joke around and play video games, but after my dad’s remarriage it was completely different. It was partly my fault for pushing him away, but I felt like I had no choice. I just wanted to make everyone happy. Time passed and my brother and I grew apart. I started to think he didn’t care about me anymore. Then one day, after such a long time, I went to his room at night just to talk. I stayed in there until six in the morning. I fell asleep in his room, but woke up in mine. What I’ll never forget is how he told me I was his favorite. 
        Now I go to the same school my brother went to up until the middle of his junior year. I remember saying how I would be so happy to go here. I am happy to go here, but there are also days where I remember my brother, and I just want to cry. I don’t even know the teachers my brother had. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think of my brother. Would he be proud of me for finally standing up for myself, or would he think I was stupid? What would the person I was always jealous of think of me now? He told me he was jealous of me when we were little because I got everything, but that was through his eyes. He couldn’t see how he was always the favorite to my dad. The spot I once yearned for, but not anymore. 
        I think about whether the brother I once knew is still even there anymore. I haven’t had any contact with him for over two years, even though I tried. I don’t even know if I want to anymore. I love him oh so much, but at the same time I’m so mad at him for leaving me, his so-called favorite. He didn’t even call me on my birthday. Sometimes at night I cry thinking about how the pink bear he gave me the day he first saw me is no longer with me. That bear is now in an unknown location to me. For all I know my stepbrother could even have it. I can’t look at things from my past without thinking of my brother. Sometimes I wonder that if I do see him again, would he be the old brother I loved and know is still inside him somewhere, or would he be the shadow of the once amazing brother I had. The most important question is if I could forgive him, but the thought that haunts me the most is if he would forgive me for pushing him away and letting others control my life. My brother always told me that he wanted me to be my own person. 
        To me, the brother I once had is gone. In the time I haven’t seen him I haven’t gotten even one text or one call. Now all I have left of those glorious times are pictures with the brother I once loved and my memories. I say I loved him, as in past tense, so why am I crying while I write this? 
        I have the answer. I still haven’t given up on my brother, and I don’t plan to. If I don’t have the chance to talk to him while I’m in high school I won’t give up. He is my big brother and always will be. People tell me to forget about him or to contact him. I do want to contact him, but it never works out. I’m not ready enough to confront him either. I need to build myself up and show him how strong I’ve become without him physically here with me. He needs to learn how much of an influence he is to me. No one understands my thoughts about our relationship, but that doesn’t matter. Some people don’t even consider it a relationship. However, he is my brother and nothing will get in the way of stopping me from making him proud that I’m finally becoming my own person.

I wrote all that as an assignment freshman year. The assignment was about something we felt we had lost. I stand here today proud to say I have texted my brother. We still don’t have the best relationship, but we talk. He texted me on my birthday. We’re not as close as I wish, and he may not respond all the time, but I know why. I know he loves me. I know he cares. I know hope isn’t gone. I thought I had lost my brother to the dark shadows of my past, but I was wrong. People still don’t understand it, but to be honest neither do I. I don’t care either. I’m just happy I know he’s doing well.


New story ideas

Being a writer, ideas either pop up every where all at once, or completely avoid you leaving you to beg for your imaginary friends to talk to you.

I’m not that crazy, I promise, but seriously, when I get an idea for a story it actually feels like there are voices in my head acting out scenes between characters. Now, I come to love this, because it is very entertaining, even if it is a distraction during school; however, it kills me when I get really into a new story idea.

Once words fall onto paper (Yes, I handwrite my stories before I type them, well most of them) there is no going back. I will only want to focus on that one story. All my characters from a previous story will be gone. Poof!

Then I realize how naive I was to dive into this story headfirst without even making the smallest of outlines. Some writers don’t need one, but I’m the type of writer where when i write a story I need to have the major points down as well as the ending.

Does that stop me from jumping right into new stories though? Well, most of the time. I’ve gotten to the point where I won’t give in to the enticing idea of physically writing the story, but the thoughts don’t leave my mind. It gets to the point where I will avoid writing my current stories, no matter how excited I am about them.

Honest! I’m only writing one original story right now that isn’t published anywhere. It has its pros and cons. I can take my sweet time with it and make changes any time, but because I don’t feel as pressured about it I barely write it, because it’s such a work in progress. Don’t get me wrong though, once the pen hits the paper I won’t be getting up all night. (I’m that weirdo who gets really creative at night, so I stay up all night writing). It’s a really challenging piece for me, but one of my favorites, just because it’s so different from other stories I’ve written. It really gives me the chance to experiment as a writer and throws obstacles at me. So yeah, maybe I do cower away at times, but I do love this story.

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, new stories. Another reason i don’t like having too many stories to work on at once is because I easily become overwhelmed. I mean, I posted a sequel to this story (It’s a fan fiction, leave me alone) I’m working on without even finishing it yet, which is not how I usually do things, just because I logged onto the site one day to see 3 comments begging for a sequel.

New story ideas are great, but it’s hard to decipher which ideas to stick with. Sometimes, I find myself trying to mash-up ideas, but it gets stuck in a messy web. All I can say is if you’re a writer who can work on multiple things at once, I applaud you, but I am not at that point yet.

Personally, when I get a new idea I just jot it down in a little notebook. I always carry them with me anyway. If it really gets to the point where you need to let some creativity though, just write the scene in your head on some paper. I’ve done it during school way more than I’d like to say I have. Most of the time it’s for the story I’m currently working on, but it’s a rough sketch of a later scene that will take place.

Ah, I think I’m rambling now, so I’m just going to take my leave.

What do you guys recommend doing when new story ideas don’t leave you alone?

The dream is to travel

Journeys, adventures, traveling. That is the life I want to live.

I’m not the kind of person who wants to just sit at an office all day. I don’t want to settle down right after college, like some people might. I want to be able to live in different countries and experience the lives of different people around the world.

Personally, I know we learn a lot in school and through the places we grow up, but going to other countries provides a whole other insight. It’s some form of knowledge that can’t be taught by anything but experience itself.

That’s what I want. Experiences.

If I had to think back to the best moments of my life. It would hands down be a trip I took this summer to England, France, and Italy with my choir. The experiences are irreplaceable. The memories will forever be stamped in my mind.

When I think of where I’ll live when I grow up, I don’t have a certain place set in my mind. I want to live all over the world. I want to be able to keep track of the places I go with a journal of sorts. This past summer I wrote in a leatherback journal, but from here on out I can blog about my adventures as well.

I’m not the person who has her whole life planned. My family may wish it to be a certain way, but at the end of the day it’s my choice. I don’t want to follow the path before me. I want to keep moving forward and soar through the air. I want to fly. I want to fall. I just don’t want to stop.

Life’s too short to live it according to others.