Thoughts of a Wonderluster

Born into a world where love conquers, we aspire to be the object of another’s affection - a bastion of hope and solace in someone else’s dreams.  When the stress of life has worn me thin and I close my eyes at night to rest, I picture myself staring into your eyes where, in that moment, I become lost in your beauty and the complexity of a soul that speaks to my quest for love everlasting. While mental pictures painted of you while I’m without sight are calming, the truth is I’m kept awake with a burdened conscience because I can't control fate. We build these pictures in our minds in hopes of bliss, but sometimes dreams are just meant to be dreams unrequited and not the realities we seek. So here I lay, eyes closed and thinking about you, still. “I don’t know what to do,” is what I tell myself as I wrestle over thoughts and ideas I will probably talk myself out of soon. I don’t know if I’m good enough for you. I don’t know if you feel the same about me. I don't know ...

Alone he walks down sandy shores as dusk arrives and silences day. With no one in sight nor a cloud in the sky the beach is his escape - from life, from love, from the thoughts that anguish his mind. Silence is comfort. Silence is freedom. Silence is hearing the words and thoughts from within. Yet on this night he cannot think of anything other than a girl. To the beach he came to write his thoughts on paper to tell her how he feels with help from liquor he hopes is an elixir to find the words to say. He stares longingly at every wave crashing as if each were a phrase, a thought, a question. One by one waves perish; he's left with a blank page. After hours of thought he finds the strength to write three words on paper. Three words that mean the world but only when echoed; here there's only silence. He puts the message in the empty liquor bottle; never to be seen again Alone he walks down sandy shores as dawn gives birth to the l...

This week marked ten years since I graduated from high school. Sometimes cliches are true - time really does fly. Ten years is a long time - over a third of my life - but the years since walking across that stage have flown by to the point where it's almost impossible to think about everything that has happened in between now and then. I've earned two degrees and work in the field in which I studied. I've lived in Philly, Richmond, and Chicago. I've traveled. I've voted. I've loved. I've lost.  The period after high school has brought about tremendous change for myself and my peers, as it should. From teenager, to adolescent, to young adult, to a [somewhat] mature adult, I've progressed through the most impactful years of my life and have learned about myself and others on my path to becoming who I'm destined to be. Peers change. Interests change. Jobs change. Residences change. Outlooks change. We all change - it's how we evolve. But...

My head and my heart have been married since birth,  but like a disagreeable couple they fight a lot. My heart is emotional and straightforward ,  but my head -  my head is indecisive. Sometimes I wish my heart had a voice which my head couldn't filter so I could describe in tongue so fanciful the emotions I feel. Truth and affection disseminate from my heart,  but are held captive by the schadenfreude of my head. My heart wants what my heart wants, but my head revels in a torturous game of logical chess. If I am to believe I should speak my mind,  somewhere between my heart and my head  the message I carry  gets caught in my throat . Maybe my head is jealous of my heart  because my heart acts simply on feeling;  on the volition of love and emotion -  never a player in the mind's games. Maybe my head is afraid of my heart's desires because my head doesn't want to get hurt. Where as the heart can move...

One of the great recent traditions between my best friends and I is to go on an annual trip to explore this great country of ours. It's a chance to spend time together like we used to a decade ago and remember old memories while we create new ones. The first two trips have been amazing and, selfishly, have helped me cross more states off my list en route to all 50 by the time I turn 30. This year's trip will be equally amazing - lots of great parks and driving in store this time around. Year Three Spokane, WA > Glacier National Park, MT > Yellowstone National Park, WY > Craters of the Moon, ID > Grand Teton National Park, WY > Salt Lake City, UT. Living in a city like I do, it makes getting out into nature even more thrilling knowing that I'll be in such an amazing setting with some of my best friends. Less than three months and counting... Year One Las Vegas, NV > Grand Canyon, AZ > Gallup, NM >  Cortez, CO / Mesa Verde > ...

Yesterday was Memorial Day and a friend and I cruised down to Oak Street Beach like we usually do when the weather breaks. Winter's hibernation is over - it's time to enjoy another summer in Chicago. After a quick lunch at Shake Shack we walked up Michigan Ave. First bad sign: loads of teenagers standing near the Drake. Second bad sign: police doing bag checks before the tunnel Third bad sign: teens as far as the eye could see on the beach When you're in beach mode there's no turning back. We walked our way past the sand courts, through a few groups of people, and marked our territory near two similarly-aged women (there weren't many of us). I bust out some watermelon, pull out my Grateful Dead book, and put in my headphones. I took a quick look around and saw nothing but teenyboppers. Here's the problem - I was a teenager once, so I'm not anti-teenager - but when you mix teenagers from different schools with alcohol and the insatiable d...