The Silent Killer

My hometown suffered another tragedy at the hands of the Silent Killer this past weekend.
The girl was in my graduating class, class of 2014. We went from kindergarten to graduation together, though we were never really close.

 Two lines, parallel; running together but never intersecting.

Now I realize we have intersected. The Silent Killer has tied us together in a way I never thought it would.

The Silent Killer lurks in the shadows of your mind; you can never escape it. It waits until you think you've finally beaten it, and then attacks with a ferocity unlike any before. It drags you back to its depths, to remind you that you can never escape. Never.

She and I were not close at all. We knew each other, and had talked briefly in class, but outside of classes we had no communication. We ran in different circles, had different friends, different interests, different plans for our future.

The Silent Killer was the only commonality between us. Not that either of us knew about the other. Not until it was too late.

She was one of the happiest people I've ever met. On the outside.
She was always ready with a kind word. On the outside.
She was willing to talk to anyone, regardless of what social clique the were in. On the outside.

On the outside, she was untouchable.

But the demons inside her were tearing her apart.
We all have our own demons... Hers got too much to handle.

Two lines, parallel; running together no longer. 

Unconventional Poem

This poem was not one we talked about in class. I do not know the author for it, because it was written for a movie. In the movie, it was written for an English class as a sonnet example. They were studying Shakespeare and had to write their own versions.

It's from the movie "Ten Things I Hate About You". This is one of my all-time favorite movies. I own it on VHS and have seen it so many times I can quote the entire thing. Yet, I still love watching it. It's based loosely off of Shakespeare's "Taming of the Shrew". If you've never seen the movie, I highly recommend it. It's fantastic, though I may be a little biased toward it.

I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair.

I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare.

I hate your big dumb combat boots, and the way you read my mind.

I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme.

I hate it... I hate the way you're always right, I hate it when you lie. 

I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry.

I hate it when you're not around, and the fact that you didn't call.

But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you.

Not even close, not even a little bit. Not even at all.  

Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe was a wonderful writer. I first heard one of his poems, "Annabel Lee" when I was probably 10, while watching the movie "Holes". In one of the flashbacks within the movie, a schoolteacher is reading the poem to her students. The farmhand finishes the poem for her, and they share a look of admiration. Many things happen after this, and the two end up losing each other. But I believe they somewhat live the story that's told in "Annabel Lee". The schoolteacher is kept away from the farmhand by the rest of the town, as they are from different races and therefore cannot be together. Yet they try so hard to steal moments of peace together, even though the town forces them to be apart. The farmhand loses his life on the sea by their town, but the schoolteacher never forgets him. Their love lasts longer than their lives, longer than the town even. These characters pop up again and again throughout the movie, to add background to the present-day story.

"Annabel Lee" is such a beautiful story. While it seems somewhat tragic, that they lost their true love, it is also uplifting. The poem shows that the love you have for someone can transcend all problems. If the love you share is true, and you remember that always, nothing can stop you from being with them.

Edgar Allan Poe was a magnificent poet, and "Annabel Lee" has been my favorite poet even before I knew it was a poem or who Edgar Allan Poe was.

                                      "But we loved with a love that was more than love—

                                          I and my Annabel Lee—"

Nothing Left

I'm afraid I do not always fit into Charles Bukowski's vision of what a writer should feel.

Sure, sometimes the words come burning out of me, almost too quickly for me to write them down. The roar of writing will hit me from time to time, and I cannot stop writing for anything.
Not for food.
Not for drink.
Not for friends.
The words are threatening to burn me if I don't release them. Ink onto cream paper, line after line filled with the same 26 letters rearranged to create something potentially beautiful.

Yet at other times, the burning is gone. In its place, a pile of ashes. The words I was not quick enough to grab before they were incinerated by the burning within. Oh, how those words could have formed into memorable sentences, had I only been more alert, more prepared to take them down.

The burning comes when I least expect it, and leaves when I need it the most. It throws thoughts and stories at me, yet when I begin to write them down, they scatter.

So, according to Charles Bukowski, I may not be a writer. Maybe, according to him, I should stop doing it.

But, I can't. Even when I'm stuck and the burning has been swamped out, I cannot stop. Writing is a part of me, and will always come back to me.

Ever Enough?

Will there ever be enough?
Enough time... to go everywhere and see the wonders of the world.
Enough energy... to keep going day after day.
Enough passion... to follow our dreams.
Enough anything... to get us through life without dreading the waking moments.
Enough drive... to go for whatever we want, no matter how difficult or at what cost.
Enough happiness... to battle the despair that lurks in every corner.
Enough life... for all our memories.

How do we know there will be enough? Do we ever know? Or do we keep going through life, hoping everything will work out in the end?

Enough questions... never enough answers.

Relay for Life

This past weekend was the Trine University Relay for Life event. It was from 6pm Saturday-noon Sunday. We had been planning it the entire semester, and were hoping it would be a success. And it definitely was! We raised a total of $5,541 for the American Cancer Society, which is just under our goal of $6,000 but still an amazing amount.

Our theme this year was Relay for more Holidays to come! Our laps were themed in different events, from Halloween with a costume contest to Valentines Day with hearts decorating the lap. The events were a hit and definitely helped keep people there into the early morning.

I managed to stay awake through the entire 18 hour event, plus some more hours after. This past weekend I was up for roughly 39 hours straight! I don't know if I've ever done that before, and I'm not sure I want to do it ever again. But I'm glad I was up for the entire event, to help raise more money for ACS, and to relax and hang out with friends. The espresso at 3am definitely helped keep me alert also!

The few hours leading up to the event were stressful. Making sure everything was there and ready to go, and improvising a few things when we didn't have the supplies, added more stress, but once the event started and people came to relay together it was all worth it.

The event went very well, and we got to pay homage to those we know who have had cancer, both those who have beaten it and those who lost the battle. It was a fun event, with some somber moments mixed in. I am so honored to be able to help raise money to help find a cure for cancer and to be a part of Relay for Life here at Trine!

Why Sports > Fine Arts?

Today there was a press conference for the new hockey complex. Yay hockey for trine, it'll bring more money and students to the school. Then I found out where it's going to be located- right on the marching band practice field. Construction is supposed to start no later than June 1, which means we now have no place to practice.

Can't practice on the football field for obvious reasons. Same with the soccer field and practice field. Which leaves no grassy area for us to practice. Just another example of sports being favored over the fine arts.

Why is that? When did sports become more necessary than fine arts? Since always I suppose. I've never understood why. Yes I know sports bring a lot of money to the school, and some people move on into professional sports. Yet, so many more people make careers from the fine arts than from sports.

I will never understand why sports are so much cooler than the fine arts. The reason has evaded me for 19 years, and will continue to for a long time. Fine arts have helped so many people, and will continue to be an outlet for the outcast, those not gifted with sports skills. Fine arts accepts anyone willing to try, while sports cuts so many all the time.

Why Sports > Fine Arts?

Is there really an answer?