Dear Kobe

 It’s a weird day.

 If you turned on the news today, you’d hear that line from a lot of stunned players in the National Basketball Association. The reason I’m writing to you today is because I’m stunned as well. I’m shook.

 I took one look at D-Wade’s reaction and immediately became emotional. Sitting on my couch in front of my roommates, head in my hoodie to dry the tears. I’m not alone in this feeling though, an entire world is feeling this. From Myrtle Beach to Hamden To Philly to Beijing.

 I heard the news with three hours remaining in an eight hour car ride back home from a tournament in Florida. Teams representing states from all over and I bet my life if you asked each player on each team, and all the fans attending…every single person knew of the man the world refers to as “Kobe”.

 You showed the world how to have that infamous “Mamba Mentality” and how to switch it off once you left the court. How once the jersey is off, you transform too. Stare them down on the court, dap them up after the game. 

 If you looked into your eyes during a game you’d see a cracked, dry, barren desert with one serpent staring right into your soul. In that moment, you knew your fate and you did your best to stave off the fight that was about to ensue.

  I never had the privilege to meet you in person, I never even saw you play live but I’ve said for years I’d end up regretting that and boy was I right. However, I was fortunate to have you as a figure in my life, for my entire life.

 I donned your jersey as a child (even though I rooted against you in ’08) because you taught me it was okay to shoot daggers of all sorts when you stepped on that playing surface. You were allowed to stand your ground and own that ground as long as you backed it up.

 It sucked to see you leave in ’16, but boyyyyy did it give me goosebumps when you hit that free throw (Take notes Shaq) to give you 60 in your final game. All while coming back from an injury that could’ve and probably should’ve been career ending…but no one out works you. Ever.

 Your playing career was over, but it sure felt like you were just getting started. From your foundations, to showing off your beautiful family and how you were not only an elite NBA Player, but an even better family man.

  We asked for your hustle, and you were right when you said you gave us your heart.

 I heard today you wanted a piece of your heart to go on and play for UConn. As a boy from Hamden, Connecticut, who watched Diana Taurasi, Sue Bird, Swin Cash, Rebecca Lobo, and Maya Moore light up my grandmother’s eyes every single season, it only felt right to see you and Gigi feel that same exact light. Hell, you might have even coached her at UConn with your love for the game, especially on the women’s side because you saw it all as one. It was all basketball. Always.  

 It’s been a weird day because you weren’t just an NBA Player to me. You weren’t just a jersey hanging in my closet. You weren’t just 81 points.

 You were Nickelodean

 You were milk mustache posters in our cafeteria

 You were my paper ball in Italian class….”Garbage can in the corner...5 seconds on the clock…ball in hands"

 5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1

 You were a mentality.

                                                                                                                    Love you, Bean. Always.
 
                                                                                                                                                             -B

                                                                                                                                                                                 

The Statue

 I was 18 years old and didn’t have much knowledge to myself besides the fact that I could eat 31 chicken nuggets in one sitting and I probably shouldn’t drink the nasty vodka anymore because I watched the hibachi man clean the grill with it. I got invited to go to a minor league baseball game with my brand new co-workers and it was extremely nerve wracking because I knew a whopping two people going to it. 

 We all met at work to make the carpool easier, everyone filed into the YMCA bus and we were greeted by this man who had the aura of a marble statue. He was majestic in the way he just sat there, unbothered, yet everyone going by him lit up and all made little comments to where you could feel their happiness to see him. I didn’t know why at the time and I just said a quick hello and kept walking to my seat. 

 The game was awesome, I met a lot of new friends and I really broke out of my shell around the 6th inning. By the end of the game I was in full BR mode. My friends that I knew before this trip were now leading the pack back to the bus and I decided to give "The Statue" my foam finger that I got at the game. I don’t really know why I wanted to give it to him but I’m sure it was just to make people laugh. I’m happy I did give it away though because if I didn’t, what took place next...never would have happened. 

 The ride home was extremely rowdy, some of the older staff drank at the game, I didn’t, (18 years old) but my loud nature made you think otherwise. We got back to the YMCA and he slammed on the brakes, put the bus in park and stood up to mutter a line I have never forgotten since that day. It went like this “YOU GUYS (pointing at none other than yours truly) are the DRUNKEST IDIOTS I have EVER driven and I’m NEVER going to drive YOU GUYS ANYWHERE. EVER. AGAIN.

 ….well that went well. 

 Bet no one saw hundreds of bus rides coming in our future together. I sure didn’t, and I know damn well you had no intentions of it. But I’m very glad they did, because if I wasn’t fortunate enough to sit in that first seat all those days, I wouldn’t be the man I am today…and honestly, I don’t know if I’d even still be here today.

 Growing up I never got the chance at having a grandfather figure. My grandfather Louis (who my middle name honors) died months before I was born and my Grandfather James was barely around. So growing up, there was no wise, aged, figure. I had my Dad and he did wonders but theres just something special about that grandfather role. I found out how important that role would be shortly after that minor league baseball game.

 I’d be on your bus every school day for years to come. We talked sports, we talked politics (unfortunately), we talked girls, we talked life, but most importantly, we just talked. You gave me attention that I hadn’t really had over the years and as I got older, I realized I needed that attention and that banter more than anything. 

 I left one year to take a new job at a behavioral school, you wished me well and told me it was a terrible decision, that they would "eat me alive". You followed that up however by saying you were happy that I was taking a chance in the world and you were proud of me. That was something I didn’t really hear much, that someone was honestly, just simply proud of me. You’d call me on my way home from that job at least once a week. I’d tell you how it went, I’d tell you how I had finally got my license and you’d joke about staying off the roads and not having to pick me up at my house anymore. I would’ve stayed on that phone for hours if you’d let me. 

 That job didn’t work out (fortunately) and when I came back, I was greeted by the biggest “I TOLD YOU SO” grin on your face. I sheepishly just put my head down and sat down and didn’t talk for about a half hour. You could sense the disappointment protruding from me and you’d end up having one of those important talks that I had always lacked in life. A talk about taking chances, and coming back better and wiser. You spoke from experience, you’d tell me personal stories and I latched on to every single word, knowing it was coming exactly from the heart. 

 I’d work at the YMCA with you for a couple more years, asking you daily questions of wisdom and sharing them with my friends outside of work. That’s really when I started to realize how rare you were. My friends would rave about you, a man they had only heard about. For those lucky enough to meet you, they acted as if they met a celebrity, an urban legend, and I honestly don’t know how to portray you better than those two things. 

 A year and a half ago, after one of the hardest years of my life, I broke the news to you that I’d be moving 600+ miles to start a new adventure in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. You didn’t really speak to me that much that day and I was kind of glad because I didn’t know what else to say. I was upset and I could tell you were as well. I wouldn’t have been able to say much to you that day without getting emotional and I think we both realized that. 

 Eventually we had a conversation about it a day or two later. We talked about it the entire bus ride, even while the kids were on the bus. I told you my plan, my living arrangements, about my best friend,and yes, even SOFTBALL! You let me talk and talk and talk and I think it was because you could sense the excitement in my voice. You hadn’t see that happiness or excitement in me in months. You let it flow and you realized it was time for me to try to make something of myself. 

 It came quick, in a blink of an eye we were saying bye to each other and you were telling me to go through with this, don’t look back, and become a registered voter, whether I was a Republican or Democrat. We both knew which one you wanted me to choose. I’m sorry I didn’t call much when I was down there. I only did twice and I remember each one. One, right before the hurricane was going to hit (I’d later text you to let you know I was okay) and two, when I got that Timeshare job that I thought was going to CHANGE MY LIFE!!

 I’m glad I came back for this mini vacation, I’m glad I got to spend my final month with you and I’m glad I’m gonna be there today when we see you out. I know you’re not dying and I’m sure this sounds like a eulogy but you’re not getting rid of me that easy. You deserve all these words because you honestly are one of the greatest people I have ever been lucky enough to meet in life. You’ve played the role of best friend and Grandfather, I never once asked you to be that figure to me but you just somehow knew I needed it. You’ve been a best friend, you’ve met my family, a girlfriend or two and countless of new friends & old friends who’d all say the same thing “Now I see what you love about this guy.”

 You are a man among boys, you are a king among peasants and you are a marble statue that people would come from all over to see, if given the chance. Most importantly though, you’re my best friend. I wrote all of this and I still don’t feel like this is enough to encapsulate you, so I’m sorry if I left a lot of things out...like that time I told you we were lost in Boston when we were really just lost inside a tequila bar…I swear I was the fall guy for that. 

 Before I forget though. Remember earlier when I talked about why I didn’t understand everyone’s excitement when they were first stepping onto your bus, that day I met you?  

 I understand now.

 I love you. 

 -Ben

"Do you want to go home? We can go home right now if you want to."

Growing up, I didn't have a lot of friends so I relied a lot on my Dad and sports. We'd go in my backyard and shoot at my full size metal hockey net (My favorite christmas present) for hours. I logged more hours peppering the twine on that net than I ever did practicing any other sport and the funny thing is, I never played an organized hockey game until I was twenty years old.

But this story isn't about that. When I was 11-ish(?) I had been in a big pin bowling league in my town and I loved every second of it. My Mom used to bring me every single Sunday and at 10am I'd put on my shoes while my wonderful mother got me a hot dog and a drink, every single week. Couldn't beat the good ole breakfast dog.

My mom ended up switching jobs halfway through the season and had to start working on Sunday's. Fortunately for me, my Dad stepped up to the plate and started taking me and thank god he did because he would end up dropping a line on me (unintentionally) that stuck with me for the rest of my life.

I was a good bowler, (Nice humble brag) I had trophies and I'd touch scores like 150 occasionally and I wasn't even a teenager yet. I just always had a relatively easy time with muscle memory, arm swing, and follow through.

But one day, I just didn't have it mentally, I wasn't there and my Dad could see it in my eyes and in my body language. He let me struggle through the first of three games, probably thinking I'd snap out of it and I'd find my roll (Hey-o), but I never did. So midway through the second game, I'm struggling with a 40 through 6 frames, averaging about 6-7 pins per frame which is just not good enough. I wasn't having fun, I was wasting my time as well as my Dad's time without even realizing it. Let me clarify though, that's not why he said this next line. He didn't say it for him, he didn't say it selfishly, he would have honestly sat there all day watching me, but the most important thing was..he still said it.

I mope over to my Dad, extremely disheartened by my performance and the fact that I couldn't crack the code on what my problem was. Despite my Dad trying to help me and give me tips for the last hour and a half, nothing clicked. He took one look at me and without missing a beat uttered so very calmly "Do you want to go home? We can go home right now if you want to." Feeling upset and almost disrespected I looked at my Dad and with my newly acquired angst, I sarcastically went "NO, I don't want to go home." and walked away and grabbed my ball and probably nailed a 3 on my next roll.

But that line by my father rolled (Nailed it. Next) around in my head for the rest of that day. I ended up getting a career high the next game with a 168 and as I finished my final frame of the day, I looked at my Dad all excited and he just had this stupid, dumb, "I knew what I was doing the entire time" smirk on his face. That's really what it was all along though, he knew I didn't want to go home. He knew I wanted to be there competing more than anyone else and all he was trying to do was rile me up...and boy did he ever.

The best part about that line is that I now use it on myself. I'll be struggling in softball, work, anything to do with life and I'll pause and think to myself "Do you want to go home? We can go home right now."

It's funny how something so simple, a line solely used to rile up an eleven year old bowler, has still stuck with me thirteen years later. The even FUNNIER part of this entire story is I loveeeee to bring this up to Johnny Doctor every now and then and he still, to this day, tells me that he never remembers saying that to me. The line I consistently use to rile my own self up with has no recollection by its owner.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't questioned myself over the last few months about if I wanted to move back home. You could probably expect that from someone who moved away from home for the first time. I came really close a few times to packing it all up, but whenever it got bad, I'd sit myself down and ask myself the question. I'm sure my Dad would love it if I obeyed and just went home, but I'm sorry, Dad. I don't want to go home right now.

See you soon.

-Benny

For Tracy Lee

It all started on March 22nd, 1993 at 8:15 in the morning in Ansonia, Connecticut. I wouldn’t know it for a couple years but in that moment, I fell in love with you, the first woman I had ever laid my eyes on. You were the most beautiful figure that had ever walked the earth and I was all hers. 

Each day, each month, each year you would selflessly and without hesitation teach me everything there was about life. Make sure I was always healthy, and when I wasn’t, would be standing right next to my side rubbing my back. I remember back to Valentine’s Day two years ago, I had a date with a girl and I ended up getting extremely sick and came home with the worst flu like symptoms I’ve ever faced in my entire life. I spent that Valentine’s day night (that's weird to say) with my Day 1 love and you never left my side until I was fully healed a couple days later. 

Late night talks about girls, and problems that I thought were going to be the end of me, you did an incredible job showing me that they never had as much steam as I was giving them. That this too shall pass. It always does. 

From our dates in Middle school where we’d go to subway or a diner and a movie, to camping trips where I’d put the floor mat in the shower by accident and flood the entire bathroom, your love has never teetered. Oh, and how could I ever possibly forget to mention the first time I ever beat your ass in Scrabble!? I won't lie though...I honestly thought about purposely leaving out how lethal you are in checkers but even my ego can't refrain from telling everyone just how damn good you are and I thank you for never giving in and letting me win...not even once. 

For the last 15 years on this day, I’d wakeup and do the same routine, *check the clock* “ugh its 9am." for Rego’s thats early. I'd hop in the shower, get dressed and then I’d get a ride to Glen Terrace. I’ll still never forget the day I heard they went out of business and my heart sank as I thought “But…that’s where I go every year for the best flowers…what am I going to do now!? I have to get her the best flowers!” as if that was the only place I could possibly go. Good thing Paradise Nursery never ever let me down with the best hanging flowers on this side of the Mississippi. 

Unfortunately, it’s impossible for me to go to Glen Terrace now, and seeing as I’m now 700+ miles away from home, Paradise Nursery is unfortunately out of range as well, but one thing that will never be out of range is my ever lasting love for you. 

You are my first love, you are my truest, purest love, and if I’m ever lucky enough to find another woman to rival that love, she will never ever surpass it. Enjoy your day, you have earned it three times over.

I have loved you ever since I opened my eyes at 8:15 that morning, Mom.

-Benny

Carolina On My Mind

Today is the day. It’s currently December 9th, 2015 at 11:56 pm. Just made it.

Today is the day, I tell you. But you probably won’t hear about this until the summer.

This has been the worst year of my entire life. No exaggeration. I entered the year getting over a broken heart, that was continued by me being let go at a job for where they “didn’t think I had the personality to mesh with my other coworkers.” When I foolishly thought that might be the last of my struggles, my world came to a crashing halt in April, we’ll leave it at that.  Now I find myself counting down until January 1st hits and I leave 2015 the same way I entered it, heartbroken. 

In the words of Eric Church “I’m having a record year."

In February, I ran back to the YMCA where I had worked prior to being let go. It was incredibly embarrassing to already be back there just months after leaving them for “bigger and better things". I was so embarrassed that I tried to just stick to myself for the first couple weeks, which if you know me, that’s not me. I didn’t want anyone to question me. I had never failed on a level that bad in my entire life. 

I thought I’ve hit rock bottom in the past, but man did I really land face first in it this time. 

However, in rock bottom something began inside me, a fire was engulfed inside me. My peers couldn’t help me, most didn’t offer which was great because I couldn’t take someone telling me all the bullshit you’re supposed to hear. “You’re better off without her” “They don’t deserve you working for them” “You’re awesome and you know it, man.” It's all bullshit. It’s the bare minimum. It’s childish. That stuff works when you get dumped by your first girlfriend in middle school. It works when you get fired from Dairy Queen because you dropped someones food too many times. It doesn’t work when you’re a grown ass adult. 

I decided by myself one night that I was going to go to therapy. Mainly because I watched Good Will Hunting too many times and thought I would just immediately find my Robin Williams. My person who would change my entire life, tell me “I’m a scared shitless little kid” tell me “It’s not your fault” over and over again until I broke. I just needed someone to explain what I was feeling and to try and help me control my emotions because I couldn't anymore. They consumed me. They’d flow out of me like a dam broke. I stepped into therapy and it did absolutely nothing for me. I went to 4 sessions and lost a lot of money. I couldn't understand if this woman was telling me this stuff because it’s what she needed to tell me, or if it was a ploy to keep my cashcash flowing. Or maybe she even really meant this stuff. Everything she was telling me was everything I would battle myself on at 3am that morning while thoughts rifled through my head. I had no idea how to read this woman’s comments to me, it was like I was Leonardo Dicaprio in Inception just watching my top spin and waiting for it to cease. Waiting for myself to wake up and realize everything was okay. The top never ceased.

The funny thing is, the fact that everything wasn’t okay eventually led me to the biggest decision of my life. This decision. 

I lost who I was, I wasn’t happy with anything, I pushed everyone away. I went to work and I decided I was going to prove everybody wrong which quickly became my motto from there on out. I was out to prove every single person that had ever known me, heard of me, seen me, doubted me, wrong. 

I worked my goddamn ass off. Day in, day out, as many hours as they’d let me. Project after project being completed until it eventually grabbed the attention of my boss, my director, and people at the corporate offices. I was on the fast track to success, I was shaking all the right hands and attending all the right meetings, dinners, conference calls, everything I was supposed to do. 

For the first time in my life I felt proud of what I had become because I did it for myself, by myself.

Newsletter after newsletter being spewed out like a machine, flyers, signs, emails, phone calls, everything was going my way, I couldn't be stopped. No one and I mean NO ONE expected a kid who had never stepped foot in a college class to be able to pick up and run with this type of quality work this quickly.

Summer came and I worked two positions at one time. Part time aquatics director, part time front office staff. I'd come in from teaching lessons in the morning and immediately jump onto the computer. I’d each lunch while making the perfect newsletter and then when the work day was over I’d speed to my baseball team’s game or practice. If I was lucky enough to get to a few of my softball games here and there, I’d do that as well. I was doing more than I had to but that’s how you succeed. 

But then it hit me. I don’t know why, I don’t know how, but it happened. I was no longer working for me. I was no longer working to prove people wrong. I was no longer living for myself. I got content and I was just doing what was asked of me. I never complained once, I gave everything I had and that was my problem. All my life I’ve been giving. Whether it was in sports, or work or most definitely relationships, I give until I have nothing left and then when everything goes to shit, I’m drained. I have nothing left in me. The person, sport, work place leaves my life with everything I put into it and I’m left to rebuild time after time. 

I’ve lived my entire life in Hamden. I was born in Ansonia but at the age of one, you don’t retain any of those memories so all I’ve ever known is Hamden and this little white house on Willard St. It’s the only house I’ve ever called home. It’s the only place I wanted to be in for all these years. It was my safe haven. I’ve met so many people of all ages in this town, I’ve met the greatest of people, I’ve met the worst of people, I’ve met people who know everything about me, and I’ve met people who don’t even know a lick about me, but if you ask them they’ll tell you “everything you need to know about me”. 

This year I’ve realized that I’ve outgrown my roots, I’ve outgrown these restaurants and bars and schools and jobs. I’ve given you everything I've had, Hamden. Every ounce of everything and anything I could give you. I’m drained now. It’s time for me to rebuild. It’s my turn. 

I'm ready to prove everyone wrong again. 

On August 21st, I will be leaving Hamden for a new adventure. This won’t be my first time leaving Hamden, for I have left for vacations and road trips and getaways and all that great stuff. But this is not one of those times. I will not be returning after a couple days, a couple weeks, a couple months. This adventure involves a new job, a new home, and eventually, my first footsteps into a college class.

On that sunday in August, I start over fresh, and I start the rest of my life. I begin again.  

                                                           On to South Carolina. 

I've seen

  The good thing about staying up so late is that once it hits midnight, my brain just goes off on tangents about stuff all over the place. Trips, girls, sports, quotes, what certain foods smell like, what cats in pajamas would look like, everything. I’m now 17 days away from my 21st birthday and tonight’s tangent is about all the things I’ve seen, done, and have had happen to me. From my first awesome memories to the most recent ones that I’ll remember forever. If I tried to rank them, I’d lose years off of my life. So let’s just start from the beginning.

  Family first.

  I saw two sisters pave the way to make life easier for the baby prince. From sitting with me on the bus to prevent me from getting bullied, to making it easier for me to get a tattoo by enduring all the anger and disappointment from my parents after getting hers. Critiquing me on how to dress and showing me what music was cool, what hair style looked good, and where to take girls on future dates. The Pioneers. 

  I saw a Dad who showed me the ropes on every sport known to man. Whistling Nerf footballs flying over the pool or the sweet, sweet POP that the rawhide makes when it hits a leather glove. Planes, trains, and automobiles to various places ranging from Pittsburgh to Florida. A guaranteed fan at every sporting event I have ever competed in whether it was a 9am baseball game in the fall or a 7pm swim meet in Amity (Amity feared me). From stealing hats to wear in elementary school, to borrowing dress shoes to wear for my High school graduation. I’ve never seen him not lending a hand. The role model. 

  Lastly, I saw a beautiful women who took every challenge ever given to her and make it her bitch. She was presented with a baby girl and immediately thrown into the fire of becoming a parent.(I didn’t see that) The learning process is hard but when it’s all said and done, it’s worth it. Four years later deja vu hit, another baby girl.(I also didn’t witness that.) One wasn’t hard enough so here’s another one, hope you saved some hand me downs! Three years later she was faced with yet another challenge. Two girls? That’s too easy, here’s a 10lb 11oz behemoth of a boy!(Technically I saw this) Let’s see how she fairs with this... and she won yet another challenge. Not a single day without dinner on the table or a freshly made bed in all 3 rooms. She’s seen our glory, our heartbreaks, our rage, and she’s never failed to get us past it. Ever. The unsung hero.  

  I’ve seen people I thought I’d never like, become my best friends and I’ve seen people I shared everything about myself with, become exiled. 

  I’ve seen a baseball team filled with misfits catch fire and roll through the playoffs only to lose in the championship. I saw a team who couldn’t be touched in middle school, crash and burn right in front of the finish line. I witnessed a team realize they were special after their first practice, make sure every other team was contempt with fighting for the runner up trophy. I’ve seen a team of sixteen year olds upset the best team in the league and hand them their first loss of the season in the playoffs, in my first year ever as a coach.

 I’ve seen a ball get thrown to me and then quickly leave my hand in preparation for a tag that would eventually lead to a 4-3-2 triple play. I’ve seen a ball leave my hand from the outfield and beat a runner to home plate to win a game. I would have traded either of those to witness a ball go off my bat and over the fence. I’ve seen 8 batters on the state’s best team consecutively walk back to the bench due to a shitty fastball. I’ve also seen a final list of players not bear my name, three times. Each time the pain was worse than before. 

 I’ve seen a kid taken in by a team of mostly strangers, welcomed with open arms to a brotherhood for a sport he had never competed in before. I’ve also seen my fellow teammates and coaches shocked by a kid placing first in races he wasn’t even favored in, and then sat back and laughed at their confusion when they realized he did it with his eyes closed because his goggles were filled with water. I’ve witnessed his heartbreak after swimming to a 4th place finish in his last ever race. I’ve seen blood and tears shed on multiple baseball fields, and even some pee in the pool.

 I’ve seen some of my favorite athletes just inches away from me. I’ve sat in seats where people witnessed history hundreds of years before me, and I’ve sat in a cold seat in September where I witnessed a base hit punched down the first base line give the New York Yankees a brand new all time hits leader. I’ve watched from two rows back in amazement as Tom Brady drove all the way down the field and won a game that just minutes before had flat lined. I’ve seen my favorite football player put his arm around me and make fun of my friend for shaking while we took a picture with him. I’ve sat with my Dad and watched a National Championship hockey game live. I’ve seen my face on the jumbotrons at Citizens Bank Ballpark, Camden Yards, both Yankee Stadiums and Madison Square Garden. I’ve sat in my room with a smirk on my face after listening to myself on the radio. I’ve seen some of the biggest names in country music and I sat front row for Kanye West. 

 I’ve seen girls come and go. 

 I’ve seen palm trees, cottons fields, and farms that could have fit at least 48 fields of dreams. I’ve seen a kid run away without warning to the West Coast just to explore what it’s like. I’ve seen the Space Needle even though I have an extreme fear of heights. I’ve seen the Pacific ocean and I’ve snorkeled in the Atlantic. I’ve seen the disgusted expressions of people when I told them I wouldn’t be attending college as well as the confused look on people when they hear I’ve done all off this without a license. I’ve seen two promotions in a profession I’d never dreamed about having. I’ve seen myself try and do right by others and I’ve witnessed as I’ve broken hearts and let people down with my idiocy. I’ve seen grudges and fights and friendships that were thought to be dead, be brought to life. I’ve seen stupid mistakes and incredible bravery. I’ve seen a friend who used to drive soldiers around, now drive six year olds around. I witnessed myself tweet my way into my first job as well as tweet myself into incredible friendships. I’ve seen every member of my family cry.

 I’ve witnessed weird stretch marks on my back, I’ve seen ink go into my arm as well as blood be taken out willingly. I’ve seen bruises surface out of nowhere and I’ve seen bones break. I’ve seen one USB hold twenty years of epilepsy tests on myself. I’ve seen results saying I’ve ranked in the top percentile of my grade for writing. I also saw myself flunk my journalism class the next year.  

 I’ve seen my sisters leave only to come back. (Probably due to the lack of their brothers jokes) I’ve seen my family own multiple cars and I’ve only ever hated one. I’ve seen friends say their first words to family members and I’ve seen them say their last words. I’ve seen some incredible people and I’ve only ever seen one house as my own. I’ve seen friends tie the knot, and I’ve seen others untangle that knot. I’ve seen pictures get hundreds of likes and followers go from 1 to 800. I’ve witnessed myself become and man and then quickly transform back into a child. I’ve seen quotes change the outlook on my life drastically and I’ve seen movies that have made me make decisions of a lifetime. But the best thing I have ever seen, is the look on my family’s face when I have made them proud. 

 It’s scary and beautiful to think about the fact that I have seen all of this stuff, and I’m still years away from the quarter mark of my life. I’m grateful. 

My Morning Coffee

  People are always shocked when they hear of the times that I go to bed every night. For those that don’t know, get your AED’s ready. I usually go to bed at an average time of 3 a.m. every night. Now I don't spend these nights just sitting there staring at the ceiling as I try and wander off into a dream world. I don't do this because I'm probably already in a dream world. My mind wanders like a stray finch and why would anyone want to fall asleep without knowing where something like that would land?

 When friends see me they’ll come up to me and ask “So, what time did you go to bed last night? or “Oh yeah that’s right you never sleep! What’s that like?” and when people find out for the first time they respond with... “What! Are you serious!? You’re not serious! I’m in bed for five hours by then!” That’s insane!” 

  To most, yes this is insane. But to me it’s normal. I’ve been doing it ever since I got into high school. I pulled my first all night-er when I was in 4th grade, it was the night before Valentines Day. There would be days where I’d go to school on two hours of sleep, if that. Was that smart? Absolutely not but I spent the night before watching YouTube videos on everything known to man. From cats to dancing, from video blogs to independent singing. Anything that came up in my head, I’d watch and it was in my system like a white blood cell.  People always ask me for a reason and I usually answer with “I stay up until my body tells me I can’t anymore.” It’s just easier than tossing and turning for an hour and just wasting time, something I HATE to do. But I think I’m finally starting to realize why I stay up so late, my brain functions better when the stars come up. Maybe it’s because everyone else’s brains are shut off for the night and the amount of thoughts have dwindled. For when this happens, my brain takes advantage. 

                           (Fun Fact: my last two blogs have been written or finished after midnight.)

   I’m always asked why I forget stuff a lot also. I have terrible short term memory, but if you ask me who stole the sniffy markers in kindergarten I know 100% that it was that boy, John Jaser and I’ll fight that to my grave! (For all of you who will now go on Facebook to find him, he’s not on there. Unfortunately) 

   But no, the reason my short term memory is so bad is because throughout the day millions of things pop in my head. That’s not an exaggeration. From frogs riding unicycles to wondering who J.D. Salinger idolized as a kid. So many things just rifle through my head and while I write this I’m thinking about how long it took Lupe Fiasco to write ’The show goes on’.

   My brain never stops and if I take a second to day dream it will turn into ten minutes of just staring and then a diminutive smile as I see a wombat run across a hard wood floor. I’m not normal and I like to flaunt that to everyone I meet, some see it and find it amusing, others see it as deranged and they shy from me, too bad. I absolutely love it and I find it hilarious how I work and if you ask me why I’m so crazy, I’ve probably already envisioned you eating spaghetti with a spoon. 

   But back to my point. The reason I stay up so late is because I love seeing what I can envision, what I can write, what I can find online to read about, what I can find that I’ve never been able to find before. It fascinates me. It’s challenges me and I wouldn’t want it any other way. When I woke up today, I had no clue I’d be writing another blog at midnight. On the way home from South Carolina, I had no idea I’d be writing that blog about college. However, like a rock hitting a windshield *BOOM*  it hits and cracks and my fingers move faster than Usain Bolt in a final heat. 

    If I sit in my bed and say “I’m going to write tonight.” I’ll end up writing short stories about my day and just inserting pictures of cats memes. But if I’m searching Spotify for new songs (Currently really into “The Format” check them out) or just surfing the web, then this happens. A long blog full of paragraphs that I try and get you to read more and more until you hit the final period. 

   My imagination as a kid was always wild and I would live for the words “Ok kids, today you have to write a creative story!” and by the time I was handed my paper, I’d have 4 complete story ideas. From start to finish. My biggest problem would be to choose just one at that time. I still love creating stories like that, and one of my favorite things to do to my friends is to tell them stories about myself that I know are incredibly erroneous but because of the detail I add in them, my friends are always stuck there wondering if the stories are true.

   This is my Red Bull, this is my morning coffee, this is the extra kick it takes to keep me up for a while. Nothing makes me happier than just sitting on my bed and just day dreaming until my body finally says "Okay, time to go. Same time tomorrow?"  The world is a much better place when you can step outside of it for a bit. 

   Now it's time for me to retreat back into the roaring seas of pillows and sheets because James Grahn and I are hitting the town tomorrow at 7am to de-leave people’s lawns. 

   It is now 2 a.m. and here is the final period.