(October 2009)
My more substantial memories started
when I was 15 years old; as I watched Bethel Manor, a place I came to call my
home for three years, disappear in the rear view mirror of the Ryder my father
had rented. It was no different from the
previous five times I had moved, except maybe in consciousness. A mix of fear and excitement of the unknown
passed over me as my father picked up speed and put 2500 miles between Hampton,
Virginia and myself.
A few years later I turned 18, and like other 18 year olds I thought I had a grasp of the world. I wanted to be a writer; High School in Tustin, CA passed by in the blink of an eye, and before I knew it, I was metaphorically tossing my black cap in the air. As the years progressed, and seemingly many lifetimes ago, at 4 A.M on January 21st 2007, a Fire Truck pulls up to Clark Kerr as I’m sitting on a bench with my arm and a blanket around a short brunette girl, and I’ve fallen in love for the first time.
The winter quickly becomes the summer and I’m a boarder at the Sigma Nu Frat House with people from Dublin, Galway, Cork, and various other parts of Ireland. I don’t know what day it is, they’re all blended together, it’s early morning, I feel uncomfortable and I have the taste of Steel Reserve on my breath.
Too much of the same has never been my strong suit, and the next memory that comes to mind is when I’m 20, it’s week 2 of 6 in Maui, and I haven’t showered in 3 days. I’m sitting under a tree a few feet away from my illegally parked tent at Kanaha Beach Park, staring at the waves, and listening to the sound of water hitting rocks until the morning becomes midday.
Several weeks pass and I’m back in the Continental U.S and making a right turn onto Decatur in Las Vegas, NV. I think for a long time about what I want, and how I can meet that objective. I feel a strong desire to proceed with my education, and decide to go full force as a writer, with an emphasis in screenwriting and directing. 18 months pass, and I’ve found comfort in the education I have been receiving at Berkeley City College. Though, I grow to find that I want my physical form to be as equally striking as my intellect.
I’m 22 years old now; it’s a Sunday, and water is falling from the sky. My hair is wet, my clothes are drenched, my lungs are on fire, and I wonder if I will have to keep running, or if the rain will let up so I can slow down.
A few years later I turned 18, and like other 18 year olds I thought I had a grasp of the world. I wanted to be a writer; High School in Tustin, CA passed by in the blink of an eye, and before I knew it, I was metaphorically tossing my black cap in the air. As the years progressed, and seemingly many lifetimes ago, at 4 A.M on January 21st 2007, a Fire Truck pulls up to Clark Kerr as I’m sitting on a bench with my arm and a blanket around a short brunette girl, and I’ve fallen in love for the first time.
The winter quickly becomes the summer and I’m a boarder at the Sigma Nu Frat House with people from Dublin, Galway, Cork, and various other parts of Ireland. I don’t know what day it is, they’re all blended together, it’s early morning, I feel uncomfortable and I have the taste of Steel Reserve on my breath.
Too much of the same has never been my strong suit, and the next memory that comes to mind is when I’m 20, it’s week 2 of 6 in Maui, and I haven’t showered in 3 days. I’m sitting under a tree a few feet away from my illegally parked tent at Kanaha Beach Park, staring at the waves, and listening to the sound of water hitting rocks until the morning becomes midday.
Several weeks pass and I’m back in the Continental U.S and making a right turn onto Decatur in Las Vegas, NV. I think for a long time about what I want, and how I can meet that objective. I feel a strong desire to proceed with my education, and decide to go full force as a writer, with an emphasis in screenwriting and directing. 18 months pass, and I’ve found comfort in the education I have been receiving at Berkeley City College. Though, I grow to find that I want my physical form to be as equally striking as my intellect.
I’m 22 years old now; it’s a Sunday, and water is falling from the sky. My hair is wet, my clothes are drenched, my lungs are on fire, and I wonder if I will have to keep running, or if the rain will let up so I can slow down.
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