Sometimes, lists can kill you. Plans can kill you. Some people can live by not planning and predicting the future. People with type A personalities can’t help but figure out their to-do lists, some for the day, and some for the near future and some for the future that is far out of sight. Alongside the detailed lists usually comes a person who over thinks everything. The person who can’t do anything without first thinking about what reaction might come out of their action.

Unfortunately, I am unable to live my life without a list. A friend and I finished talking about dealing with things that are out of our control. Then we got onto the topic of summer. I explained that I am going to have a great carefree summer; I said I was going to tan, live out of a beach bag, and make a couple bad decisions. Then I noticed a smirk slowly appear on his face which turned into a giggle. He noticed the confused look on my face and then told me that I had already planned out my bad decisions. I planned to be spontaneous.

I didn’t think about it like that at first but I realized he was absolutely right. I can’t help but make a plan for everything in my life. Without my cell phone calendar on hand, I think I might fall in a catatonic state. I have everything planned down to the last second. I make to-do lists that cover everything right down to sleep. I could say I do this because I like bringing order to chaos but I don’t know if that’s actually accurate. Maybe it’s not so much that I like order in my life, maybe I am just trying not to mess anything up. By knowing my every move before I make it, I can figure out what the consequence may be. Theoretically, this isn’t a bad thing. But do my lists interfere with my ability to have fun?

This kind of reminds me of a song called Got My List from an obscure independent movie called Dakota Skye. There’s a phrase in the song that plays over and over in my head like a broken record. One more day we’ve made it through now, got my list, got my list. I like how that sounds, and while I appreciate its attitude, I don’t think it quite applies to me. I can’t take life a day at a time.

Character flaw? Probably. It makes me think that I should change it. But, once again, I’m using that dirty word. I am planning to change that part of myself. I hate that it has become a habit that I can’t kick.

I like to think writing is like making a sandwich. Begin with a blank sheet of paper, proceed to fill it with the meat, or the subject of the piece, and then add the lettuce, which is like the garnish of the piece, then the author adds in their own personal flavor by adding in some condiments. The beauty of the extra spices comes from knowing that their spices are unique. No one will be able to recreate their exact recipe because it reflects their life experiences. Creative writing is made up of a simple subject that is quickly turned into something so different, the author marinates in the subject matter until it is suitable for their taste. We can experience, and I use the word experience with purpose, a piece of literary subject matter that many other authors have written about before, and still be able to find the beauty in the literary art because of it has sheer originality that makes readers want to hear more of.

I have begun writing a piece without knowing what I was writing about. I have written sonnets that start by describing food then turn into a narrative about finding inspiration for new thoughts. I have begun journal entries by describing how I have nothing to say, then, without my knowledge, turn into an in-depth piece about finding beauty in things I hate. If I had known I could write without knowing my subject before, I think my creative abilities would have developed sooner. I would never have thought that writing without a vision could turn into the best piece of writing I’ve ever produced. I never would have thought the ramblings of my mind would actually be published in a newspaper. But now I understand that the blathering in my mind is actually the best raw material I could ever hope to discover.

One of the best things about writing is switching to the role of the reader. There is nothing better than making a gourmet sandwich, then taking a big bite out of it. We write and we rewrite, but not after reading it first. It is all about the taste testing. We may feel the need to write and entire book full of ideas, sleep on it, and then decide we’d rather have a nice bonfire using those burned out old ideas of the day before. We might write it all out, feel overconfident about the piece, show it to an outsider and after gauging their reaction, and make another trip outside for another bonfire. There is nothing wrong with doing so; it is creative expression in movement. Sometimes it may take a wrong turn in Albuquerque, but there is no harm done. It is simply a lesson learned. Life is to be lived, felt, loved and explored. Life is meant to be shared, if not shared with other people; it should be shared on paper. From paper, it can go anywhere, to anyone, with no limitations.

My entire body is encased in ice. I can feel the cold, wet, densely packed white liquid-like substance absorbing into my clothing. I wiggle my limbs in an attempt to create a simple yet unique piece of art. Having no artistic ability, drawing inside the lines seems like a safe way to go. I push away with my arms and legs enough of this cold substance to consider my masterpiece finished. But the toughest part of my task is to peel myself away from my creation leaving just enough of myself behind, but not leaving a footprint that is too big. I finger-paint two little dots with a sly looking line beneath them at the top of my Sistine Chapel; as though it were the final cherry on top of a decadent sundae, or the laminate that is spread on top of the final coat of paint. My snow angel has a personality, and I watch her as she greets the cars that whip past her on the street.

The scrumptious texture of its chocolate coat

With crunchy pieces nestled through the bar

Delicious heaven makes my taste buds jolt

Its timeless taste is sure to make it far.


I find it too alluring to avoid

These sweets will threaten to intoxicate

Big doses make you feel quite paranoid

And make your tummy quake and ache and ache.


Do not miss out on this fantastic treat

It may not be around for very long

Imaginations need something to eat

Feed mine, it needs to sing a different song.


My mind is hungry for a brand new thought,

A novel thought, one that cannot be bought.