Find me

     One of the things that my parents expressed the most about coming to college was finding a good church to go to. Now, at this time, I was more on the impression that I was done with the whole christian thing. I really lost myself senior year, but I met someone who's first priority was God. She helped me to realize why I once thought that God was the most important thing to be in our lives. So I did search for churches; the only problem was that, on the cross country team here, we have morning long run at 9 am on Sundays, and every church in the area had service during that time. I was starting to lose hope on keeping up with God, even all the christian groups I could find met during my classes or practice. Luckily, I found a website of devotions called Young Adult and College Age Bible Lessons. This site saved me. Even though I'm not experienced in teaching the word to myself, the Rock Springs Baptist Church really helped me to find a way to worship God again.

     Though there was still something missing from my faith: fellowship. Of course studying God is our time to reflect, but you still have that feeling that you can't share it with anyone. Turns out that there was a group that met every Monday night that I could go to. It was an FCA group, which is Fellowship of Christian Athletes. Fellowship is in the name! Two girls on the cross country team asked me if I wanted to go, and it was definitely one of the best decisions that I've made since coming to college. Being with everyone who believes in the same thing as you is just indescribable after thinking you'll have to do it alone. I thank God for giving me this opportunity for finding me... again. It's these little victories that let you know that He's still there looking out for you. No matter how lost you may come to be.

     The progression continued as I started to go to church with the same two girls and two other guys. We are in the middle of the search right now because we started trying out this new church. I have to give it to my parents for finding good churches. It's hard to do. I wish all churches just had a talented music group and an intelligent pastor, not just one of those attributes. I remember when we came to Maine, the search for a new church wasn't easy. We used to live in Texas, which is part of the Bible Belt, and we had this amazing church called Grace Community Presbyterian Church. The community that was in this church was so heart warming, and the music was the perfect mix of old-fashioned and modern. Her pastor was a master. He was a man that truly cared about the word and the people he told spread it to. Maine doesn't have much like that. Don't get me wrong, there are fantastic churches in Maine, but I don't think the Willinghams will find a church like the one we had. Now I'm here in college trying to find a church that satisfies our little group. Whatever we choose to do though, I know that God will be watching out for us. I know that he won't lead us from His path.

Goblin - Issue 3 "I Want To Hear What You've Got To Say"

     Well the Violet era was long, but it had to end at some point. I was pent up with so much rage at this point, and, honestly, it was helping me through track season. Finally breaking 4:30 is all because of this situation. Running was always my therapy, but I never want to go through something like this again. I wrote this at the end of everything. The story goes through our whole journey through this forest that resembles our journey of a relationship. A thing I regret though is that I never really said anything positive about the whole thing. Goblin and Violet seemed to have this really depressing time together, but that wasn't always the case. It was great at first, but that's not how I saw it towards the end. I could only remember the bad times.

---

There are many beautiful flowers in the world, there are roses, lilies, and violets. violets have a beauty that is matched with next to no other; they rise above. Though, every flower has their flaw. Some do not produce pollen, some do not grow pedals, some do not grow tall to eventually be picked. And then there are the flowers who have thorns. Violets have thorns.

     Violet was a beautiful flower and she knew it. Goblin was surprised that it was he that picked her. He would carry Violet with him wherever they wanted to go. Whether it be the forests, mountains, or valleys, they were forever together. Though, over time, Violet became harder and harder to hold, up until Goblin dropped her. He tried to pick her back up, but noticed that she was covered in thorns. Goblin looked down at his hands. They were covered in scars; scars from multiple cuts that Violet's flaw had caused.

Why have I never noticed these scars before?

Goblin, I've always had thorns. You just never noticed.

     Goblin never understood why he was so oblivious to the obvious scars on his hands. It had been too long a time for the unnerving truth to be concealed. Goblin tried to pick Violet up anyway, but now he felt the pain. Like there are nails being driven into my hand. He tried to hold on to Violet as long as he could. Goblin held on to her for another trip through the forest, but he was attacked by the two fiercest creatures in the forest: Anxiety and Loneliness. Anxiety told Goblin not to go any further. To stay still in the same exact place he was in for all eternity. Goblin eventually overcame Anxiety's grasp and continued on through the forest. Then, in a blur of events, Loneliness pounced on top of the already struggling Goblin.

You are nothing.

     Goblin did not know what to do. Loneliness had isolated him from Violet, putting her inside a hole in a tree. Goblin was surrounded by a wooden barrage of sharpened spears, if he moved, he would most certainly perish. Though Goblin knew how to fight the Loneliness, you just smile all the time. So Goblin put on his greatest fake smile and the spears disappeared. Loneliness was finally conquered. So Goblin ran to the tree holding Violet and tried to pick her up, but to no avail. Violet had even more thorns than before. Goblin's hand bled vigorously.

Tell me how to pick you up Violet. Please. Let me fix this. I can take you to get your thorns removed.

I like my thorns Goblin. You need to give up your wasted efforts. I don't care anymore.

     Goblin's hand was bleeding even more. He tried to walk away from the tree, away from Violet, but tripped and stumbled and crashed into the ground. He could not get up, so he laid there and cried. All Goblin wanted to do was pick Violet up and help her get rid of her thorns, but his efforts proved to be worthless, a waste. Violet was finally out of Goblin's reach. He didn't stand back up for months.

Another day is here and I am still alive

I say these words aloud, they speak from the inside

And every time I see you

You just walk away

I want to hear what you have got to say

---

     I based this off of the song I Want To Hear What You've Got To Say by Subways, and the last part is a direct excerpt from the song. The song has a lot of rage and I thought I would compliment it with a mellow story, but I kept the desperation. Whatever Goblin tried to do to help the relationship, Violet always turned him down. Obviously the two creatures in the forest are actual feelings I had during. I had anxiety that made me scared to break up with this girl. Stupid reasons prevented me. I didn't want to become 'the bad guy' and I didn't want there to be any hard feelings. I also didn't want it to end. Loneliness came to me because I felt so alone in this relationship. Everyone told me it was going to get better. Everyone said that 'it's just a rough patch', but I just felt so isolated. So this was my break up story. After everything, I rebounded on White. Eventually, though, it became more than a rebound. So even though all of these uncomfortable events occurred, I managed to get out lucky. Something beautiful sprouted out of a disgusting garden. It just goes to show that its true what they say: the good times outweigh the bad.

General Education

     I take a class called ENG 205; it's creative writing. This lecture is far from what I was expecting. I thought it'd be an easy course, but have a lot of work. Turns out it's an easy course with zero work. Today, we partnered up and walked around the building with our eyes closed. One partner had to close their eyes and the other had to be the guide. It was bizarre. So we did that and came back to the classroom only to be told to walk blindly again. I honestly don't get our professor. He's this tiny old man who always wears this black as night under armor beanie, and he talks like this. Usually, it's really hard not to fall asleep in his class, but today he brought up some interesting subjects. I finally understood why we kept closing our eyes.

     We talked about uncomfortableness. How, without our eyes, it's hard to be comfortable with walking around. Which is only too true. While I had my eyes closed, I was scared I was going to run into a wall or even go off a cliff (even though I knew there were no deadly cliffs in the building, I just hate high cliffs). It was uncomfortable, but at the same time it was interesting because you didn't know what was going to happen. You just had to put trust in your partner. It's like this with writing. When you have an idea, your hand doesn't know what's going to happen. It just has to trust your beautiful mind that something magnificent is going to happen, and that is pretty interesting. This Gen-Ed class is teaching us how to trust in our writing just like we trust other things in our life.

     I find that writing is so much better when improved. In high school, I would always plan what I was going to write. Have it mapped out and outlined. Always wined and dined before the real action  happens, but I've come to the conclusion that it just makes the writing process more tedious and unenjoyable. If I just start. If I just let the words from my mind write themselves, everything comes out. Planning, you'll take everything that you don't like out. Of course, when you're writing an important essay, planning helps and you should do it. Though I feel like when I sit down and write a blog, I don't want to know what I'm going to say until I type it. It just feels so raw. So, with these posts, I never know what I'm going to write or how much of it I'm going to write. I just write.

Can We Play Smash Bros?

I feel like there is always something going on.

     There are two minutes left before my alarm goes off. I had to get up early because my roommate's alarm has been going off while he just presses snooze. It's not the most enjoyable thing to happen. Though what would be the difference of when I woke up and sleeping for another 15 minutes? And there it is: my wake up call, literally. I feel like my days never stop going. I'm always on the move, doing something to either work or entertain myself. Today, I go to church, run 13 miles, read for Anatomy, go to hell work, and then come back for some more homework. I could wake up earlier I guess, but then I wouldn't be able to sleep as much. My mom is always talking about how waking up early is the best way to start your day, but I feel like sleeping is the best way to start your day. I'm always up for a good 8-9 hours. I would have to survive off of coffee if waking up at 6 am was part of my regular routine. 

     Time is filled up with routines in college. We go to class, we study, we run, we hang out, and we eat; that pretty much sums it up. My friends and I eat dinner at 5 pm every night on the dot, and then we go play the N64 in our locker room. We do that almost everyday. We don't even switch up the game we play. On a regular school day, I don't have any time to just relax, and it really effected me last semester. I now NEED to be constantly doing something or I get bored easily. I've begun to notice that this is bad. Sometimes we need to just reflect on what we're doing. Sometimes I just want to sit, maybe listen to the Vitamin String Quartet, and just not think about the many pressures of school or running. Now I could be cheesy and say that the song Lets Be Still by The Head and the Heart is the most perfect example of what we should do, but I think I'm going to take it another route. I'm going to be even cheesier and say that it is our civil duty to each other to not be so uptight about our schedules. Make them flexible. Make them rich with the activity of relaxing. It's time to seize the day, and time to make time for yourself.

Goblin - Issue Two "2000 Pounds of Pressure"

     A few weeks after I wrote Yonkers, the problems with my girlfriend were still getting worse, and I had this weird dream. I was so ashamed of this dream because I count it as committing adultery. I dreamt of this girl who I have been becoming friends with since the beginning of the year. This dream was just my fantasy bringing itself to life in my mind. Making things between Violet (my girlfriend at the time) and I harder. She has and never will know about this dream I had because this was the thing that made me realize that we would both be happier if we just broke everything off. I called this one 2000 Pounds of Pressure because that's the weight that crushes a human body. I felt as though I was the only one in the relationship that was feeling this way and that only made things worse. I felt as though my throat was constantly dropping into my stomach and it affected me greatly. My friend also made a song called 2000 Pounds of Pressure that I really enjoyed to listen to during this time. I still like listening to it because its actually really good considering his other stuff.

---

It started with a roar.

     The applause was too much. Everyone was staring, smiling. The whole mass was standing and cheering. It was too much for Goblin. I didn't do anything. Goblin didn't stand out, he stood in. Inside where it was safe. No one to see him, no one to judge him. He made his home as the understudy of the group. That is where he lived. When the show was done, everyone got up, cleaned up, and left. Everyone but Goblin. Goblin got up, laid down, and fell asleep.

     It was a blur of redgreenbluewhiteyellow. Everyone was cheering, acting like Jesus was coming down and take them into a city of clouds.It was the beginning, the beginning of a new hell. This isn't a celebration. This was a celebration. Goblin was there, Violet was there, and White was there.White was the hostess of he evening, and damn was she a good one. Her setting was amazing.With table by the garden, a giant green house with blankets to watch the color blurs, and everyone she invited. It was the perfect love celebration.

     The evening began in the garden area; sitting at the tables eating duckling stew with a pinch of salt.Goblin ate with Violet, as he did often. Eating the duckling stew watered Goblin's mouth for a bi juicy butterfly, but all Violet had were cockroaches. So he ordered some off the menu. Violet was furious.

You don't just go and buy a butterfly whenever you want Goblin!

But White is offering them...

     They ate the rest of the meal in silence. Then the event of the night came: the greenhouse. Everyone went inside and laid on the blankets spread out. The explosions started softly. Goblin looked around, he knew that this was all White's doing, but she was nowhere to be found. Excitement ran through the greenhouse, people were monkeys as they ran around enjoying the colors. They started to pick up, the sounds becoming louder. Goblin thought he saw White's shadow, but couldn't be sure. Now there were definitely supernovas in the sky, and the people were starting to act like elephants as they trampled over each other. Goblin definitely saw White this time. She was making rounds around the greenhouse.

     The party ended shortly after the roaring of the crowd. White was never involved with the celebration. She's so humble. Goblin and Violet had a great time. The party was amazing. it was a mixture of fun and torture, but somehow enjoyable. As Goblin and Violet were leaving, the Gatsby of the establishment stopped them. White asked Goblin if he would have a private word with her in her room. They walked up the spindly stairs, with Goblin almost falling. Once inside the room, White shut the door behind her, blocking the whole world out.
What did you want to talk to me about?
Goblin... I invited you here and now it's the end of the night...
     White handed Goblin a single, beautiful butterfly.

     Goblin woke up at the sound of his own screaming. A yell echoing in the empty theatre. Goblin was alone, reflecting on his own great nightmares.

It ended with a roar.

---

     My dream didn't go exactly how this went. Violet wasn't even in the dream, but I thought I would add her because I wanted to show the sort of jealousy that she got when she found out and heard a rumor that White was into me. Of course I had not started or provoked any of those feelings, but Violet blamed me. So I tried to show that through the awkward dinner. I don't know how duckling stew popped into my mind. I was just going for a raw kind of animalistic sort of dinner. I like the idea of Goblin living in this borderline fairytale because that's basically what feelings are. They're such primitive parts of our lives; so unpredictable. They open up our minds to see why we make the decisions we do. Without them, we'd be going through the motions of life, or robots if you will. My feelings towards this dream were both eye opening and devastating. Who knew that a dream about going to a New Year's party would be so insightful? 

Does Anyone Have a Warm Jacket?

     You can look outside to see the clear blue skies and crisp white ground that is winter at the University of Maine. It looks like a normal day; people are out and about, the birds are chirping, and you can see the sun. Though, you walk outside and find that it is not a normal day. Its ten degrees and the air is as dry as can be. As soon as you open up the door to this frozen hell, the snot in your nose instantly freezes, and the wind. Don't get me started on the wind. Why would I choose to go to school in a place where the weather hurts my face? Great start to the first day of spring semester classes.

     After a much needed winter break, it is time to go back to the grind and begin another set of courses meant to make me feel like I know absolutely nothing. I just came back from my anatomy lab and am currently waiting to go to creative writing. School became real again this morning. I go back into my regular routines: wake up at 6:30, do some core while my roommate Dan sleeps, get dressed, and please my grumbling tummy with cafeteria food. Yep, its good to be back. This morning, I told myself that this semester would be different. That I would get that GPA back up to a 3.0, but I tell myself hat every single year. I thought I meant it before the fall semester, but I fell back into old habits and started slacking off and procrastinating hard. Though I do need to get my act together for this spring. I want my GPA to sky rocket. So this time its going o be different. I just need to find out how to protect my mind from distractions. Just like I need to protect myself from this darned cold weather.

SOMEONE GET ME A JACKET

Goblin - Issue One 'Yonkers'

     Over the course of 2015, I was inspired by a song that would shock you. This song isn't one that would inspire someone like me per say. It's more of a song that would help people with troubled lives. Actually, it's not even that. It's not an inspiring song. This song, Yonkers, is more of a rant of this guy's inner demons coming out and why they do. Oh Tyler, the Creator. So he raps about how his inner demon, or 'goblin' is the source of his transgressions, so basically, that inspired me to write a short story that would be a representation of my life through this character named Goblin. I was going through a tough time during this point of my life. Things were going really terribly with my girlfriend at that time and I was battling some injuries from running. So much pent up anger was inside me and I let out through these words; great therapy.

---

     There was a man named Goblin. He was average height, average weight. He went through everyday life with a smile on his face, but that was just his problem: his face. It was a wretched piece of green muck. Already hard to look at, Goblin had awful breath. No one wanted to talk to him, but he kept walking on, just like every other self-injesting person.

     The only difference between Goblin and everyone else is that Goblin would do anything for a butterfly. He loved those juicy, succulent creatures. The feeling of them in his stomach, alone, could bring him to tears, tears of joy. So even though he would complete tasks that people wanted him to do, all they gave him were cockroaches. Now eating cockroaches is a sin in itself, but they're what causes his diseased skin and death breath. All Goblin desires in his most miserable life is one beautiful, tasty butterfly.

     In the mid afternoon on the 3rd day of March, Goblin was approached by a loving Lion. Mrs. Lion looked very worried; her tail was wagging as fast as it could and she kept looking around.

Goblin, will you please watch my weeds while I go get more water for their growth?

Well I have to go brush my teeth later, but I guess I could wait a little bit longer. How long are you thinking you'll be gone?

Oh, no longer than a day. I'll be back as soon as you can say growth. Just be here tomorrow so I can pick up my babies.

Alright, sounds good. Your weeds are safe with me Mrs. Lion!

     So Goblin watched the weeds. They weren't the easiest to watch, with all their crying and whining for water. Goblin tried to provide them with some of his own, but they cried even harder for Mrs. Lion's precious water. So the crying and whining persisted into the long night. Goblin was relieved because it was finally time to take them to the spot. Though, when he reached the drop off zone, all he saw was a note that read in red. scribbly ink: "They were out of water, need to go back for more. Tell my babies I love them! Goblin's relief was gone. He had to watch Mrs. Lion's weeds yet another day, and, worse, he wasn't able to wash his face OR make up for brushing his teeth. I'll look like this forever, Goblin thought.

     The next day came by. Goblin, tired from a sleepless night of the weeds whining and crying, went back to the spot. Now Goblin felt real relief, for Mrs. Lion was there there carrying two jugs of water.

Hi Goblin! I hope my weeds didn't bother you at all.

No 'mam, they were as perfect as can be.

I knew my babies wouldn't cause any trouble. I bought you something for your troubles.

Mrs. Lion handed Goblin a cockroach, a big one.

Oh, thank you Mrs. Lion, but I think I'll pass.

Nonesense my boy eat that right up, it's delicious.

Goblin bit into the cockroach. It was juicy, but not like a big juicy watermelon. It was more of a creme filled egg. Goblin hated it, but he ate it anyway. It was finally time to wash his face and brush his teeth.

     Though there was one good thing about Goblin's tragic story. He had a flower that he cherished very much. The flower's name was Violet. Goblin cared for this flower, just waiting for it to bestow him with a butterfly. When he first found her, Violet would give him many butterflies, but, as the moons past, the butterflies became less and less frequent. No matter how much Goblin cared for Violet, putting her in the sunlight, butterflies started turning into cockroaches. The cockroaches started becoming more and more frequent until there were absolutely no more butterflies.

     On the 9th day of March, Goblin couldn't handle all the cockroaches. He took one look in the mirror and it cracked. Goblin was fed up. He approached Violet.

Violet, have you noticed anything different?

No, I feel everything has been the same, why?

Well you have been giving me a lot of cockroaches lately.

Goblin, that has nothing to do with me, that is your own doing.

No, cockroaches are not good for me. All I do is wash my face, brush my teeth, and provide you with the proper sunlight.

Oh, speaking of proper sunlight... Goblin... I'm feeling a bit shady right about now. Would you mind getting me some?

Are you even listening to me? My face is green Violet. Green. You know that I am hurting. Every time I put one of your cockroaches into my mouth, my face and breath get worse and worse.

Goblin, I said sunlight. Now.

Okay, okay. I'll give you your sunlight.

Goblin pushed Violet into the sunlight. She soaked it up like a sponge.

Thanks Goblin. You're the best. I don't know what I'd do without you. Here's a cockroach.

Violet, I just said I don't want anymore cockroaches.

I'm doing this for you. I want you to be happy. Please eat it.

What happened to all your butterflies Violet? I miss those so much. Why don't you give those to me anymore?

Goblin I no longer have any butterflies for you.

---

     Wow reading that again brought up some great times with my ex. Writing this all down really did help me through that. Of course, she never found out about this. This, was mine. It helped me to finally realize I had to express what I was feeling to her in person, not just through my creation of Goblin. The whole last sequence of Goblin asking about what's going wrong with Violet was premature for me. Meaning, I wrote that before I actually did that in real life. Writing that made me realize that it was actually time to talk. It helped me straighten out my mind. Feelings can fog the mind. This was a perfect example. I thought  I absolutely loved this girl only to find that she was making me miserable. I needed this therapy to reach the thoughts out of my unconscious mind and surface them to my reality.

     

¡Bienvenidos!

     Well here I am. Back in the tiny prison cell they call a dorm. At least school doesn't start until a couple of days. We are here to do absolutely nothing. Well not nothing. I unpacked all my crap and put it away. I cleaned out all of the fall semester papers I had left over. I watched an episode of the office, or two. It's been a busy day. A busy day in my home away from home. It is weird, isn't it? When we first move out, or I guess if you haven't, the very thought of not living with your parents. It's a weird feeling. I was just thinking about that today as I was talking to my roommate about living in an apartment next year instead of a dorm. I mean my dorm is my housing place, but I don't really consider it a home. I don't like being in here...

     So next year I will have an apartment shared with two other guys and that will be ours for 3 years. which is crazy for me to think about. I signed a lease. Whoo. What an adult thing to do. I may make it in this world, much to contrary belief. In the past six months, I feel as though I've been making big strides on my way to becoming an adult. When I turned eighteen, I didn't feel any difference, but now I feel like I've had to grow up a lot. It's been stressful, and it's been nice, but really it's been fast. I feel like it just happened yesterday when I decided to re-pack my clothes for today.

     I've been getting into the story of Peter Pan lately, and I've been trying to find a story where Peter comes out in the end as a happy character. Sadly, he will always be a tragic protagonist, and I think it's because he'll never grow up. I used to envy this kid, but now I understand. It sucks being a kid. Ha seriously. Yes, it's fun having that freedom and being a wild little animal, although, that's all you'll ever know. Being an adult is so much 'funner', ya knwo? We can drive. We can go wherever we want. We have money! We know what girls are, and we don't continuously battle a pedophile pirate that is forced to use one hand. As fun as little Pan has, I feel that we adults have so much more fun. Plus, Peter Pan is a fairy tale... So there's also that.

Thinking Hurts

     Sitting in my cousin's room watching him play some NHL. Wow these graphics are great, but I can't focus on it because there is a tiny little man holding a hammer in my hand and he is going nuts in there. I have the biggest headache of my life right now, which is obviously something I say every time I get a headache. Though I swear: this is the worst one.

     I have been sick for the last two weeks and it's time that this illness trickled out of my body. It worries me, so much. I have an indoor race in like a week and a half, so what the hell is up with this? This is my last chance to prove to my coach that I am a miler. I. Am. A. Miler. (I hope). I don't know how I'm going to prove to my coach I'm a miler though because I have this humungous problem. It just feels like one of those crazy unlucky days.

     How do you deal with those kind of days? I have no idea... So far as I know, you can't. No amount of hot tea, honey, or tylenol can make the symptoms of being on your deathbed go away. I wish something would just kill the virus so I can be healthy again. Damn virus is here to stay.

.go away.