Tag Archives: School

On Writing


Before the love of writing started I began with reading lots and lots of books – all kinds really.  Then for a few years came book reports.  I enjoyed breaking down a story as well as making drawings for the report cover, particularly as a way to stand out from the rest of the classmates.  After book reports I started to write around the age of 9.

I wrote short stories back then, mostly horror because my family was big on watching horror films and I needed an outlet for my reoccurring nightmares.  So I wrote and wrote and each time I felt my heart become more and more alive.  I remember I enjoyed writing not just because I felt full of life, but because all my teachers said I was good at it.  And whenever someone gave me constructive criticism I was determined to get better.  Eventually I won a writing medal at elementary school because of that attitude.

In Junior High I would go on to write graded screenplays for the entire class to act out on.  By seventh grade I turned my attention to deeper writing like journaling and confessional poetry and during this time short stories were put on hold (and for the most part still is) as my writing began to take on a form of therapy.  With being a loner and feeling like an outcast from family and school, I learned to create friendships with my writing.  Then in later years, I learned about blogging.

So, even though I wouldn’t change a thing, it wasn’t until very recent that I realized I tend to write predominantly when I’m feeling glum (manic), bitter, displeased, enraged or dispirited.  Then of course there are the feelings of when I’m hyped, full of mania (highs) and excitability with huge shots of adrenaline when I train before, during or after.  Once in a blue I write when I’m happy, obsessive or in love too, but my heart lies with writing sorrow first.  So what’s the dilemma?

One dilemma is I believe I’ve limited myself to writing with and/or about certain emotions, so when I’m actually happy I find it difficult to write or get inspired to write.

During the time I was on a mood-stabilizing pill I stopped writing for 3 months completely (which is absurd), not just because it changed my persona to a degree, but because I had less bipolar episodes, less sadness, less excitability, less highs and lows.  I was somewhere in the middle, but not quite.  I wasn’t necessarily happy, but wasn’t necessarily sad.  Maybe neutral? But it made it difficult to find any drive to write.  Now, I’m trying to come up with solutions and creative ways to write about anything and everything to push myself over the boundaries I’ve created.

The second dilemma aside from finding inspiration through negative tone emotions is I started working on a book (a novel).  But, the problem for me is I stopped writing short stories decades ago, so I doubt my abilities since I’ve been out of practice.  Writing in narrative, I find to be more difficult than say, writing a poem, prose or a blog.  This is another challenge I’ve been trying to work on AND I’m open to suggestions from anyone who is kind enough to share.

Thanks for reading.

-Pennington

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Missing Myself


Camera 360

Here’s the truth:  Over the course of 2 months I’ve lost interest in everything.  A big part of this happened due to the unexpectedness of life and mostly because I was losing what I consider to be my identity at the core to strange and newer thoughts and to feelings I would never even give a seed to sprout from.

I went from power poses to vulnerable ones.  I went from an assertive voice to a squeak of a mouse.  I went from eating like a beast to eating like a tiny bird.  I went from being sure and proud of every decision I come to make up to now to drowning in what others wanted for me over night.  And how was I not myself?

It wasn’t until this week where I started to listen to music again.  It wasn’t until this week where I let nature come into my heart once more and touch my face and allowed it to perk up every one of my senses again while I paced myself from short travels or long city walks.

The only thing that has gotten me out of bed has been the productivity, the goal of going to school to get one degree so I can get another.  And it’s whatever works, whatever gets you through to the next day so one doesn’t feel reckless.  But I’m still out of control, I’m still holding onto negative views and I’m out of order when it comes to concentration.  It’s completely unlike me and if it wasn’t for my inner strength I would imagine I’d let go because all I feel is alone.

The last few nights I’ve taken mere opportunities to perform some bodyweight squats because in the back of my head I’ve brainwashed myself to move it or lose it.  Not too long ago before I knew what I knew I had taken a week off from having a troubling head/chest cold and Dark Knight being the strict personal trainer he is at the time made sure to pat and grope my ass to say, “Just checking.  It still feels firm.”  And of course I could have cursed him out and brought up the double standard views of genders except I didn’t because I understand what it means to be this way.  But the reality is there are countless factors that determine how quickly strength or physical looks are to diminish and I’m not within that realm of possibility.

Now I have to be smart and heal from the procedure I had on Monday.  I’m looking at (hopefully) another 2 weeks and if lifting heavy steel wasn’t an issue enough, there’s the not having actual penetration part either.  Oh goodie!

I could only remember the last few workouts I had in the beginning weeks of January.  One was working out with an acquaintance of mine (I forced him) and we worked out upper body until I caught a dead arm and until he pretty much tapped out on going set after set.  After we were done I had to pressure him to hydrate like a camel and eat something because he was coming down with chills as he did his best to try and keep up with me for every single static hold, rep, pyramid set and every other compound exercise while losing track of time.  We never made it to the movies.  But I was high and delighted as if I had an orgasm with merry smiles. Fuck me! I even caught people wishing they could be my training partner since the eyes never lie.

I remember the second workout was in my house where I supersetted (E-Z Curl) Small Barbell 40lbs (all I have at home) Squats with Push ups for as many sets as I could give as I was struggling to breathe still from a really bad hacking cough and lungs constricted where I needed my asthma pump from time to time.  Then I threw in Pauline Nordin’s The Butt Bible right after that workout to make sure I felt as if I worked all angles on my legs and glutes.  It did the trick because after all was done I felt orgasmic and wiped out once again.

I’m quick to believe for a moment (due to freaking out!) that once I reach a certain degree of shit that I can’t turn back and do what I used to do the way I’ve always done it (which is total bullshit by the way)!  It makes me as happy as receiving oral sex to now eagerly daydream about going back to the gym.  I feel I’m ready mentally, not yet physically.  But I can’t wait to bring a new attitude and vigor to my sets with various movements.  I can’t wait to steal the limelight from others who are working next to me.  I can’t wait until I feel somewhat sexy again.  I can’t wait to feel the blood pumping throughout my body making me feel beastly and edgy and powerful.  I can’t wait!

It’s strange to feel like I’m sitting on the bench for something that was out of my control.  I don’t ask life why anymore.  I stopped that.  One reason is because it sounds beyond melodramatic and I’m sure there are lessons in place for me as much as there are mistakes.  But even though I told myself not to deny anything I feel during this delicate emotional and mental moment I have to move slow although I really just want to move on to a different chapter in my life.

Still I have a friendly jealousy towards all the amazing people who are working out currently and I get to watch their progress on Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr and Instagram.  No matter what social media I’m on there’s fitness at every turn.  I’ve been enjoying some folks who have been taking the time out to send me their photo improvement as well.  They don’t know that underneath it all they’re feeding me constant energy and therefore are inspiring me.

The other truth is:  I’m determined, passionate, have good work ethics, have a thirst for more so I’ll never be able to truly let go. I’ve never been a weak person.  I’ve always had and continue to have a fire in me that won’t quit.  So in the end I’ll get through this as everything else I’ve gotten through in my life.  However this time around and to take a quote from Country Strong I want to, “Fall in love with as many things as you can (or possible).”  I want to give that a go too and maybe we all should?

And as far as tonight goes I’m flirting much with the idea of Yoga.  How much strain could it possibly put my body through right?  I will do something therapeutic this late evening like cook dinner and make tacos. 😉

P.S.

If you manage to read this all on your first time:  Thank you!  And even if you didn’t, thank you anyway!  And if you come here to check my page out regularly enough to read it thank you!  And if this is your first time on my page:  Thanks for coming aboard at this moment! 😀

-Pennington