Dear Arlo,
I think one of the main problems of this world is judgment. So many people think that they know someone when they have no idea who they are. I have heard so much.
“I would help the homeless but….”
“Look at her/him…..”
“Drunk, whore, slut, stupid,”
And I will leave out the worse.
Everyone has a label for the other person. And I can’t say anything bad about the people judging or I will be judging the people judging. Isn’t this kind of ironic. Even the best of us can’t get out of it.
I wonder what it would be like if our thought process wasn’t so narrow.
I wish we could look at everyone like we were blind so we might see more clearly. Then the only judgments we could spit out is the truth.
Sincerely,
Brittani
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Saturday, September 21, 2013
September 21, 2013
Dear Arlo,
Do you think mornings are too early to write letters?
Even if the day has begun for me, it is a Saturday. Most people are still tucked away in bed waiting for noon before arising. The only ones out are yard sellers, flea marketers, and coupon clippers. I guess there should be an option that says other. For the rest of us who wake before noon and are not one of the above.
My point goes back to my question though, do you think mornings are too early to write letters because the letter may be uneventful?
I wouldn’t say so. I think letters with list of play by plays aren’t always the best thing to read. I enjoy thought. Then again, play by plays that are interesting are always enjoyable to read too. Honestly, there is never a great time to write a letter. However, if you catch the right moment, timing doesn’t seem to matter.
My moment this morning is sitting here amongst the quiet without worry or care, listening to music, drinking Sun Drop, and writing to you. Later this morning I will be at work, ringing out hundreds of later bloomers just beginning their day and in a rush to get going, but right now the sound of a keyboard being typed on is as soothing as rain on a tin roof. It’s melody could put me asleep if I wasn’t so anxious to run out in the middle of the storm and scream.
Sincerely,
Brittani
Do you think mornings are too early to write letters?
Even if the day has begun for me, it is a Saturday. Most people are still tucked away in bed waiting for noon before arising. The only ones out are yard sellers, flea marketers, and coupon clippers. I guess there should be an option that says other. For the rest of us who wake before noon and are not one of the above.
My point goes back to my question though, do you think mornings are too early to write letters because the letter may be uneventful?
I wouldn’t say so. I think letters with list of play by plays aren’t always the best thing to read. I enjoy thought. Then again, play by plays that are interesting are always enjoyable to read too. Honestly, there is never a great time to write a letter. However, if you catch the right moment, timing doesn’t seem to matter.
My moment this morning is sitting here amongst the quiet without worry or care, listening to music, drinking Sun Drop, and writing to you. Later this morning I will be at work, ringing out hundreds of later bloomers just beginning their day and in a rush to get going, but right now the sound of a keyboard being typed on is as soothing as rain on a tin roof. It’s melody could put me asleep if I wasn’t so anxious to run out in the middle of the storm and scream.
Sincerely,
Brittani
Thursday, September 19, 2013
September 19, 2013
Dear Arlo,
Can you see a piece of art in your mind before you ever begin it and it look just the way you imaged when you were finished? I can. I have had people ask me, why are you so excited, it is just a blank canvas, a blank page, or a piece of wire. The reason is simple. I have never had the pleasure of seeing anything blank. Everything to me was already beautiful when it was just raw material. The beginning was in my head and the finish completed. From that point on all I had to do was paint, write, or bead. A work of art isn’t a process it is a thought. A compassion. An emotion.
Sincerely,
Brittani
Can you see a piece of art in your mind before you ever begin it and it look just the way you imaged when you were finished? I can. I have had people ask me, why are you so excited, it is just a blank canvas, a blank page, or a piece of wire. The reason is simple. I have never had the pleasure of seeing anything blank. Everything to me was already beautiful when it was just raw material. The beginning was in my head and the finish completed. From that point on all I had to do was paint, write, or bead. A work of art isn’t a process it is a thought. A compassion. An emotion.
Sincerely,
Brittani
Saturday, September 14, 2013
September 14, 2013 Continued
Dear Arlo,
I guess I am going to be writing you two letters today. I feel the urge again. It is a strong urge to get in the car and just drive. For me that is dangerous because I am never quit sure where I will end up. I posted this on my Facebook earlier,
“Run, not because it takes you away but because it delivers you somewhere knew.”
And I fully support it. Some people mistake running as trying to get away from what you are around. It is more about finding a new way in life. New is something so great. I love your dad’s song you sing, “’Ramblin Round.” Sometimes I feel like I am either cursed and gifted a life of restlessness. Which one I can’t be sure. I feel it though. So often the feeling is so strong and I am not certain it will ever be a feeling that will leave me. I guess only time will tell if it is a good thing or bad. For me right now though, it doesn’t seem bad. It seems beautiful. And as the sun rises in the morning I feel the highway whispering, “I’m here.” and as the night dawns I hear the neon light’s shouting, “Aren’t you ready.”
Don’t they say those who wonder must wander? It took me years to get up the nerve to write a blog and continue on daily, I don’t believe it is going to take me that long to wander.
Sincerely Your Fan,
Brittani
I guess I am going to be writing you two letters today. I feel the urge again. It is a strong urge to get in the car and just drive. For me that is dangerous because I am never quit sure where I will end up. I posted this on my Facebook earlier,
“Run, not because it takes you away but because it delivers you somewhere knew.”
And I fully support it. Some people mistake running as trying to get away from what you are around. It is more about finding a new way in life. New is something so great. I love your dad’s song you sing, “’Ramblin Round.” Sometimes I feel like I am either cursed and gifted a life of restlessness. Which one I can’t be sure. I feel it though. So often the feeling is so strong and I am not certain it will ever be a feeling that will leave me. I guess only time will tell if it is a good thing or bad. For me right now though, it doesn’t seem bad. It seems beautiful. And as the sun rises in the morning I feel the highway whispering, “I’m here.” and as the night dawns I hear the neon light’s shouting, “Aren’t you ready.”
Don’t they say those who wonder must wander? It took me years to get up the nerve to write a blog and continue on daily, I don’t believe it is going to take me that long to wander.
Sincerely Your Fan,
Brittani
September 14, 2013
Dear Arlo,
I guess I will go back to after I meet him. Months passed and I never saw a glance of him but at times I did wonder. I wasn't sure why this stranger was so easy to wonder about and it scaring me only made me more curious. I knew he had to be real but it had seemed such a moment in time it was easy to wonder if I might have dreamed it.
My friend, she one day said to me and other friends, “I will be bringing someone to lunch with us, and most people are afraid of him, but don’t be.” This seemed strange. I have never been afraid of anyone. I rarely grasped the concept of real fear. I just said okay while everyone else asked questions. As she described him, I questioned, “Wait, do you mean,” I asked if it was him by the name I knew. It was him no doubt. He was far from scary. He was real and I would finally get to see him again.
Lunch came and we all went to the familiar Chinese Restaurant downtown. They served a buffet at lunch and this was one of those rare days all of us did not have a college class at this time. When her and her boyfriend came in, he wasn't with her. She said he had changed his mind. I was dismayed. I spent the entire time laughing, talking and joking with everyone while I was really only thinking about him. A ghost that had reappeared deserved thought. And thinking I did.
When we got back up to the college I didn't get to see him there either. I was wondering if I would ever get to.
Sincerely,
Your Fan
I guess I will go back to after I meet him. Months passed and I never saw a glance of him but at times I did wonder. I wasn't sure why this stranger was so easy to wonder about and it scaring me only made me more curious. I knew he had to be real but it had seemed such a moment in time it was easy to wonder if I might have dreamed it.
My friend, she one day said to me and other friends, “I will be bringing someone to lunch with us, and most people are afraid of him, but don’t be.” This seemed strange. I have never been afraid of anyone. I rarely grasped the concept of real fear. I just said okay while everyone else asked questions. As she described him, I questioned, “Wait, do you mean,” I asked if it was him by the name I knew. It was him no doubt. He was far from scary. He was real and I would finally get to see him again.
Lunch came and we all went to the familiar Chinese Restaurant downtown. They served a buffet at lunch and this was one of those rare days all of us did not have a college class at this time. When her and her boyfriend came in, he wasn't with her. She said he had changed his mind. I was dismayed. I spent the entire time laughing, talking and joking with everyone while I was really only thinking about him. A ghost that had reappeared deserved thought. And thinking I did.
When we got back up to the college I didn't get to see him there either. I was wondering if I would ever get to.
Sincerely,
Your Fan
Thursday, September 12, 2013
September 12, 2013
Dear Arlo,
It was great today to feel the rain on my face as it ran down my hair. It has been a while since it has rained here and finally this afternoon the weather quit teasing me and it poured. As everyone else complained I couldn’t help but to want to soak in the water. Everyone always seem so unhappy about the weather, sunshine, rain, wind, or snow. There is nothing that seems to make them happy. I tell people who complain, “yeah, I’m ready to complain about it being hot again instead of it raining,” as I do through all weather. I’m not sure how many ever catch on to how sarcastic I am being is the sad part.
Tonight, I feel inspired. When I am done writing this I must sit down and write a poem or a story or something. Anything. It feels like my fingers has no other function than to move when I want to write. Like they were never meant to sit still. I hear all these words in my head and feel as if they must make it down on paper for the world to read. Even if the whole world is just me. Like something must be said and if it isn’t then I am going to walk outside and shout it out. And I shout it out on paper. Paper switches to blank works documents and then occasionally online. It is a great process. It just makes sense.
So I believe I will call it a night. I hope you have nice one.
Sincerely,
Your Fan
It was great today to feel the rain on my face as it ran down my hair. It has been a while since it has rained here and finally this afternoon the weather quit teasing me and it poured. As everyone else complained I couldn’t help but to want to soak in the water. Everyone always seem so unhappy about the weather, sunshine, rain, wind, or snow. There is nothing that seems to make them happy. I tell people who complain, “yeah, I’m ready to complain about it being hot again instead of it raining,” as I do through all weather. I’m not sure how many ever catch on to how sarcastic I am being is the sad part.
Tonight, I feel inspired. When I am done writing this I must sit down and write a poem or a story or something. Anything. It feels like my fingers has no other function than to move when I want to write. Like they were never meant to sit still. I hear all these words in my head and feel as if they must make it down on paper for the world to read. Even if the whole world is just me. Like something must be said and if it isn’t then I am going to walk outside and shout it out. And I shout it out on paper. Paper switches to blank works documents and then occasionally online. It is a great process. It just makes sense.
So I believe I will call it a night. I hope you have nice one.
Sincerely,
Your Fan
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
September 11, 2013
Dear Arlo,
We all have a story, don’t we? Some are more interesting than the others, but there is a story none the less. Today being September 11, 2013, 12 years after the attacks, I have heard many stories on the radio today. So I figured I would tell you mine.
September 11, 2001 I was sitting in 5th grade Science/Social Studies at my Elementary school. This was my last year in Elementary School. Next year I would be in middle. The 5th graders always got to take a class field trip at the end of the year to Washington D.C, and though we had only been in school a little over a month, everyone was already really excited.
At first, none of us really knew what was going on, our teacher(for all purposes I will nickname her Mrs. Juliet in this letter), turned on the box TV in the upper corner of the room to the news. On the T.V. was a big building burning. She kept telling us how significant and horrible it was that this had happened, and as the class progressed we heard about the second building and the Pentagon. Everything was blurry. I didn’t know what the Twin Tower’s were. Just whatever they were I would remember them forever because of this day. I only knew what the Pentagon was because the field trip coming up. The only bad thing happening to me was people were dying.
Of course, the day went on and the week went on after the day, and it seemed as the year continued so did everyone’s life and memory of what happened. We, of course, had to cancel our D.C. Trip and had a fun trip to the Outer Banks I didn‘t mind too much back then. I wouldn’t get the opportunity to see D.C. again until I was 15, 16ish. I would get to finally see it though.
Now, I get to hear everyone’s else’s opinions on what happened. Which, I have came to the conclusion I still hate how many people died. My view on America, the government, or anything don’t replace the people who lost their lives that day. So I don’t say too much. I just say a prayer for those who lost loved ones and whose families were effected. I don’t have to be dumb or smart to show curtsey to people who hurt. I figure there is always a time and place for my opinion, today just isn’t one of those days, so I keep silent in memory of those lost.
Sincerely,
Your Fan
We all have a story, don’t we? Some are more interesting than the others, but there is a story none the less. Today being September 11, 2013, 12 years after the attacks, I have heard many stories on the radio today. So I figured I would tell you mine.
September 11, 2001 I was sitting in 5th grade Science/Social Studies at my Elementary school. This was my last year in Elementary School. Next year I would be in middle. The 5th graders always got to take a class field trip at the end of the year to Washington D.C, and though we had only been in school a little over a month, everyone was already really excited.
At first, none of us really knew what was going on, our teacher(for all purposes I will nickname her Mrs. Juliet in this letter), turned on the box TV in the upper corner of the room to the news. On the T.V. was a big building burning. She kept telling us how significant and horrible it was that this had happened, and as the class progressed we heard about the second building and the Pentagon. Everything was blurry. I didn’t know what the Twin Tower’s were. Just whatever they were I would remember them forever because of this day. I only knew what the Pentagon was because the field trip coming up. The only bad thing happening to me was people were dying.
Of course, the day went on and the week went on after the day, and it seemed as the year continued so did everyone’s life and memory of what happened. We, of course, had to cancel our D.C. Trip and had a fun trip to the Outer Banks I didn‘t mind too much back then. I wouldn’t get the opportunity to see D.C. again until I was 15, 16ish. I would get to finally see it though.
Now, I get to hear everyone’s else’s opinions on what happened. Which, I have came to the conclusion I still hate how many people died. My view on America, the government, or anything don’t replace the people who lost their lives that day. So I don’t say too much. I just say a prayer for those who lost loved ones and whose families were effected. I don’t have to be dumb or smart to show curtsey to people who hurt. I figure there is always a time and place for my opinion, today just isn’t one of those days, so I keep silent in memory of those lost.
Sincerely,
Your Fan
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