Mr. Hargrove

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Yesterday was filled with utter chaos, with sprinkles of happiness. But as it turns out, the taste of the sprinkles surely overpowered the bitterness of the majority of my day.

The sweetest sprinkle on my day was the package I received from a friend. It was completely unexpected, and although I hate surprises, I was deeply touched by his gift. He had a rustic leather journal made for me, which, unknowing to him, was the kind I’ve always wanted. The journal was to inspire me, to contain my inspirations, my musings, and, the complex thoughts that drown my mind. How thoughtful of him? In that one act he captured my essence completely. He explained, “I hope this journal will motivate you to find time, to keep writing in this, a warm place to record you words when you feel inspired… This is a safe place to tie shut your words when you want no one else to see them.”

Secondly, in the gift he included a letter. It goes without saying that the letter touched my soul more than the journal did. Nothing compares to the feeling of written word and more importantly words written specifically for you. I’ve started to feel that letter-writing was a thing of the past but maybe there are a few out there that still believe in that form of communization (second only to face to face, of course). I love seeing/reading peoples handwritings, trying to guess their thoughts at the very moment their writing utensil touched the stationery, watching their thought process as it flows.. flowing with it – even through the scratch outs and mistakes. I love the whole experience and he gave that to me.

It’s an understatement to say I am grateful for having such a person in my life. The content of the letter expressed how proud he is of how I’ve overcome my recent struggles and stresses. Words fail to express the warmth that fills my insides knowing someone out there is rooting for my success, and believes in me. Life nowadays can be such a burden in more ways than one, but having someone to pull the weight of it all or even to give you a pat on the back when you feel that your advances aren’t manifest, makes it all truly worth it.

So thank you James: for awakening my inspirations, and my hope in mankind. Thank you for rousing my love of writing from where it lay dormant deep down inside me.
Thank you for being a great friend and the best supporter I never knew I had.

Sprung

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Spring is such a great time for new beginnings, fresh starts, and I'm trying to take advantage. I have so many aspirations and desires that I'm slowly breathing life into and I couldn't be more excited. I tend to get so caught up into things; it's extremely difficult to keep my head leveled and my thoughts together, mostly because Spring carries so much hope.. so much life, you can't help but be swept away with it. I want to get into any and everything but I'm taking special care with the goals closest to my heart and the ones that stimulate my ever restless mind. So here's a toast: a toast to new experiences, a toast to new chapters, a toast to new beginnings, a toast to me.

Here's a toast to being completely sprung over Spring.