The other day Marisa told me she liked my writing style. Now, I don't even know if I actually have a style. I also don't really ever write for fun. I like writing with a purpose because, as I told Marisa, so long as it fills that purpose, who cares if it is good. I mean something interesting is helpful, but it satisfies the needs, then whether or not it is eloquent is an after thought.
I do have a couple things I have written. A few short blurbs I keep in the folder "wiring samples." I figure if it is labeled "writing samples" then the pieces serve another purpose, meaning they could potentially be sent to someone as a sample of my "style." If they have purpose, who cares if they are good right?
Anyway, here are my samples. Unfinished, some untrue, ocassionally purposeful, and all chock-full of grammar errors.
All anxiety provoking, because now they can be read by whoever reads my blog. (I am going to believe that is no one).
1. Inspired to Serve (2010)
Macon, Georgia
is my home; I’ve never lived anywhere else. Same street, same house, ever since
my parents brought me home from the hospital. It’s an ugly house really, red
brick, grey porch, green shutters, shielded from the street by clusters of pine
trees. The yard is scattered with a combination of grass and tire marks from
the cars. We always had a lot of cars at the house, people frequently commented
that it was tacky, but to me it was normal. Each car had an owner, and every
time I came home, I could tell exactly who was going to be inside based on the
cars in the yard. There was always
someone inside because my parents never turned anyone away. When my aunt and
uncle got a divorce we welcomed in my cousins, and the living room became a bed
room. When my cousin’s girlfriend needed a place to stay, there went the family
room. My territory had begun to shrink. However, I would not have traded the
close living quarters for the Biltmore Estate. When my cousins were invited to
live with us, I may have lost rights to the living room T.V. but I gained two
brothers. I was also shown true generosity at work. My parents never turned
anyone away, even when there wasn’t much more than Ramen soup for dinner, they
made sure everyone had a bowl. It is probably the most important thing that I
have learned from them: give what you can. With this inspiration, community
service has become a vital component in my life. I have learned that not only
do you impact the lives of others when you serve your community, but you create
a ripple effect inspiring others to do the same.
2. The
‘76 Olympics (2011)
As each brother walked
up, I sized up my competition, trying to mentally prepare myself for the
challenges I knew were fast approaching.
I was ready. My team and I had thought long and hard about the challenge
we would bring forth, and did everything we could to prepare ourselves for
whatever obstacles they threw our way.
Today, we had a name to represent, because today we were not simply
brothers of Alpha Phi Omega, we were brothers of the Mu Mu chapter, and today
was the ’76 Olympics.
This past November some
of the brothers of section 76 participated in the inaugural ’76 Olympics. While the competition was not nearly as
fierce as I described, if you replace the perceived intensity with fellowship
and friendly competition then you might understand our experience. Three
chapters were represented and ready to compete, Delta Kappa from Emory
University, Gamma Zeta from Georgia Tech, and my chapter, Mu Mu from Oglethorpe
University. Each chapter came prepared with games in which we would compete and
a team ready to honor their home chapter.
Mu Mu was first up. Our
supplies were simple; we had a tug-of-war rope and a strategy: lean back, pull
hard. This proved effective when the girls from all 3 chapters took on (and
beat) all the boys. Gamma Zeta’s game, unstable isotope, tested our team work.
In this game each team had to successfully lift a coffee can with only string
and a rubber band. Daunting as the task may have seemed, teamwork is something
the brothers know well, and each team was successful. Following a quick game of
Taboo and a snack break, we were ready for Delta Kappa’s Ultimate Frisbee
challenge. Each team sent in their best players, while the other brothers
cheered them on in the sidelines.
Ultimately, it was the
brothers of Delta Kappa who won the honor (and bragging rights) to be the
champions of the premiere ’76 Olympics. At the end of the day, we joined hands
in fellowship and each added our own chapter’s twist to the toast song. Through
the Olympics, we embodied the cardinal principle of friendship and decided that
the ’76 Olympics is a tradition we want to keep.
3. Skylight (2012)
There is a giant whole in the ceiling, just above where my
bed used to be. I remember when the leak first started, we pushed my bed to the
other wall, and continued on with our lives. You see my parents never were a
“fix it and forget it” type of people, they had more of a “cover it up and
ignore it” mindset. A mindset resulting from a one-income household with about
4-too-many mouths to feed. My parents always made it work though. In my house,
you learned to really evaluate when you actually needed something, or when you just wanted it. When the leak got so
bad and the ceiling fell through in my room, you would think we needed to fix it. But, with a couch for
my sister and me up studying in Atlanta, closing our bedroom door satisfied
their mindset. When I came home from college, a matress on the floor adjacent
to my sister’s couch turned the living room into mine and my sister’s new
bedroom. While it did not have the same skyblue walls or privacy of our
previous bedroom, it also did not come with its own unintended skylight.
I remember one break back a home, the heat had gone out.
Being between paychecks and with a stack of medical bills to worry about, a
space heater was set up in the living room. With my matress on the floor,
making it the closest seating area to the space heater, I got a pretty sweet
end of the deal. Perspective right?
4. Anxiety (2013) even informally writing on my blog, I always write about anxiety...I think because it is such a strong feeling....anyway:
I feel like at any minute I won’t be able to breathe
anymore. My breaths are gradually working their way up my chest, losing their
grip on the bottom of my lungs. The depth usually characteristic of breathing
is gradually slipping away. I try to take in long, drawn out breaths, inhaling
and holding it in searching for a very different kind of high, but a calming
one none-the less. The air pools in the top of my lungs, spilling over into my
stomach, but never quite making it back to the bottom of my chest.
My heart is equally uncontrollable. While my breath is
shallow and soft, my heart is strong, throwing itself against my ribs. It is
not fast, but it is persistent. The pulse in my wrist, knock on my chest and
ring in my ears won’t let me forget that it is there. Maybe it is reacting to
my general passive acknowledgement of it, the underappreciated organ which is keeping
me alive. I have even less control over my heart that my breaths. I want to be
unaware of the beat, but the more I try not to notice, the more apparent and
debilitating the sensation becomes.
When my heart and lungs decide to rebel, my eyes generally
follow suit, swelling and over flowing.
At that point, if I decide to open my mouth and address the
issue, I begin to slip. I visit each sensation again and again as I make my way
through the rungs of the downward spiral I am on. I spin and spin into
exhaustion and sleep. Eventually I wake up into a tomorrow that, even when seen
through swollen eyes, is significantly brighter than the day before.
Anxiety generally gets the best of me. I allow myself to
slip on something despite the friction I have created. I think that is when it
is the hardest. You create something you think it stable, reinforcements and
traction. When you inevitably find a spot where the grooves don’t meet and you
lose your balance, it hard to not just let go. Sometimes it is the other way
around. You polish things until they shine and everything looks new and
perfect, but that is when it is easiest to slip, one surface too slick and down
you go.
It is important but difficult to remember that when your
heart is so apparent and your breaths so quick, what matters is that you are breathing.
Your heart may be loud, but it is going. As uncomfortable as anxiety is, it is
a propelling force. Nothing initiates motion like the fear of what will happen
if you remain stagnant. Similarly, nothing holds back harm as firmly as the
anxiety of letting it in. Maybe anxiety is not as tough as it seems, and maybe
that is enough to calm my nerves.
And those are my samples.
