March 04, 2018

“The more I tried to let my thoughts sink through the paper with the ink of my pen the more my mind began to hurt. I would aimlessly try to find inspiration for a simple ballad or a single line no matter how undistinguished.

The paper is left as blank as my thoughts.

Poetry can be exasperating. It takes you on journeys you don’t necessarily wish to be on, as well as journeys you nearly plead to never have an end. In my adolescents I fell into an emotional abyss upon my discovery of classic literature, as well as poetry that makes your heart swoon. Words are the most influential aspect in the world we live in. They make us drown in sorrows, and gleam with joy.

The difficulty of putting my own thoughts into words has followed me as closely as my own shadow. My mind is constantly clouded with numerous thoughts from the moment my eyes open at dawn, to the moment they close at dusk. Expressing what goes on in my mind is both challenging and simple. From the moment I could talk I was extremely self-opinionated and passionate about expressing my thoughts to others. However, even with my stubborn nature I had years where I consistently held back my thoughts due to social stigma I received from others. In those years of lacked bravery I turned to my pen and paper to release the words bottled up inside me.

I have learned over time how to project my voice to the world through not only my writing, but through my actions. I realized at a young age how passionate I was about helping others. Whether it was cleaning the dishes for my mother, or assisting a homeless girl of my own age at a police station because she had been sex trafficked. I dislike thinking about my community service as anything other than exactly what it is – helping the community. I haven’t chosen to speak about many of my experiences because I am not only extraordinarily humbled by each and every one of them, but I have witnessed things I consider truly horrific, experiences I have generally only chosen to express on paper.

I sit down at the table again.

I have my stories now. The determination is set to express them in the only way I know how. The words are withheld at the forefront of my mind, anxiously awaiting their sweet release.”

I wrote this unfinished piece in October of 2016. I was planning on finishing it and submitting it as my common application essay. All I can say is thank god I had a man who was my advisor, friend, mentor, and economics teacher read over this piece. He read the first 3 sentences, looked up at me and said:

“The paper is left as blank as my thoughts? Really Anna? This isn’t you. You write better than this.”

He said that two days before my common app was due. I spent months working on the piece above. I was in a panic. There was no way that in two days I could write an entirely new piece of 500 words and have it be as perfect as I wanted it to be. I did write a new piece. It was not perfect in my eyes. However, it served me well to use a different piece of writing and I got into every college I applied for. I got into colleges I never dreamed I would be able to get into. I do believe if I had submitted this piece it wouldn’t have been that way. I needed an outside perspective. I still love this piece. It still describes how I feel. It just wasn’t the right time to share it. Just like how it wasn’t the right time to go to those colleges that I got into. UO is the right place for right now.

I really do think timing is everything. Do you? How has timing played a part in the stories of Alison and Jeannette?