Creative Writing - "Boy"

This was my creative writing assignment for one of my classes. Directly inspired by "Girl" by Jamaica Kincaid. Let me know what you think.

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Grip the bat this way so you don’t miss the baseball like you always do; break in your mitt as soon as you buy it; come home right after practice and clean your room; put your video games away, you ungrateful brat; don’t forget to break in your mitt; do all your chores quickly and don’t take any breaks to have a cookie; listen to your mother and don’t ask me questions; do your homework so you don’t become an unsuccessful bum having to live off me and your mother for your entire life; help your sister with her homework when she whines; eat your broccoli; read a passage from the Bible once a night or you’ll go to hell; I thought Jesus forgives all?; don’t ever question anything I say; don’t be afraid to injure the other team’s best player if it leads to victory; remember to keep your stance wide and your eye on the ball; second place is the first loser; don’t disappoint me; don’t let down your mother; failure literally isn’t an option, we aren’t afraid to abandon you; find a nice girl to date; stay out of the kitchen, always act like a man; be a gentleman, respect her if she says “no,”; tell your mom to get me a beer; never change the channel when I watch television; but I’m sick of watching sports; I think your mother is putting too much of that strange estrogen vitamin in your meals; the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree; never bring your family apple picking, it’s bad luck; there is such a thing as a good time to lie; Democrats are ignorant because they never have any good things to say about anything; go to a college that is known to all the neighbors, but only if they think it’s a good school; follow your dreams; your mother and I firmly believe that majoring in Accounting is clearly the wisest choice for you; I don’t even like math; I’m guessing that you don’t like girls either?; stop worrying about the future, you’re only 11; I’m 13; stop being ungrateful; accept that life is meaningless because everyone in the world will eventually die; heaven might not be real; try to live life without regrets; choose Wendy’s over McDonald’s because it seems classier; get used to riding a bike because I’m definitely not buying you a car; you never even taught me how to ride one; well go learn on your own; are you going to be a failure or success in life?

Religion: Questioning

I'm going to make this an ongoing topic that I'll keep posting about in the future. I know that I can't fit all of my thoughts in this one post, so this will be the start of my new series about Religion.
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This topic of Religion is meant to help myself put my questions, thoughts, and ideas into actual writing. I write this to express my feelings, and receiving some answers or suggestions would be great. This is NOT about me choosing to leave the Church.

This is not meant to offend anyone.Thank you.
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I like to think of myself as a good, practicing Catholic. I go to mass every Sunday, I pray before meals, I've attended a Catholic elementary school and even University, I keep rosaries and symbols of my faith in my car, dorm, and wallet. Yet I wouldn't call myself devout. Odd?

Definition of devout:

1. Having or showing deep religious feeling or commitment.

2. Totally committed to a cause or belief.

I do not believe I am entirely, 110% committed to the Catholic faith. This does not mean that I do not accept the religion anymore, simply that I just have so many questions about Catholicism. When I first realized this about myself, I was a bit troubled. How could I be raised in such Catholic upbringing all my life but still find myself unsure of things?

The religion, actually, all religions, relies on faith and faith entirely. I picture religion sometimes as some one being stranded on a completely unmapped island, just forcing himself to live out of pure faith that some one will save him. Yes, the movie Cast Away is a perfect example, but how many times out of 10 would that man be saved?

I loved going to Catholic school (St. John's the Evangelist, represent) and I love attending a Catholic university (La Salle University in Philadelphia). Catholicism has a great moral code that is taught to the children, something that I'm extremely grateful for since it really has shaped my own character. But since these same children are raised believing in the Holy Trinity and everything in the Bible, there isn't room to question these ideas. They are given to us as facts.

What I'm trying to say here, is that we've never had opportunities to question our own religion and explore others. Most religious families preserve their faith and raise and grow their family within that religion's boundaries and morals, which is fine by all means. There is nothing wrong with that.

But now, I am putting my questions, built up over the years, into words.



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Some topics (but not limited to) that I hope to cover in the upcoming days (in no particular order):

1) Catholic Flaws
2) Other Religious Alternatives
3) Guilty Conscience About Lack of Faith

Turnpike-d

When you're used to being one highway away from a close friend and being able to be there for him or her at all times, moving back home two hours away (Turnpike North to be exact) is a tough adventure.

Times get hard when distance is involved. Two lives that were once practically one are temporarily divided, only connected by communication, which isn't always constant. It's initially a painful and abrupt situation that can drain anyone. Luckily, not everyone must go through this.

But if you do find yourself in this situation, you need to remember that you must loosen the rope that you two are tied by. No longer so close that the extra rope dangles by your legs, the aforementioned "rope" is now taut by distance. But you need to remember that this isn't a game of tug-o-war, you can't keep trying to reel the other in.

Instead, think of it as belaying the rope for the other as he or she mountain climbs. You two need each other. Even though, physically, you aren't close anymore. Sometimes a couple easily understands this..sometimes one can't fully grasp this novel idea. But it's apart of growing pains. Growing pains that will turn into a grown relationship.

Just remember to loosen the rope. But never let it go.

Random Thoughts: The Art of Pickup Basketball

Pick-up basketball (a game of 5 on 5, where players sometimes "pick up" other players to form a squad) is a setting that can be likened to a brawl, fight, or even a battle royale. Minus the punching and hurting others purposefully. It's similar to these violent clashes in that it pits your crew, versus some one else's. Your friends versus another group of friends. It's a battle for pride.

First off, you can understand who has your back. If you go to a court alone and join a team full of strangers who don't know each other, it's likely that there will be one person who hogs the ball or takes too many shots. It's possible that you get lost in the shuffle, as the players on your team would have no idea what your skillset is. But hey, that's part of the fun sometimes. Proving your worth to people on the basketball court.

In my opinion, though, the best way to play is with your friends. Everyone knows their roles, what everyone else is capable of, and best of all, that people will be supportive or will openly criticize (positively) your actions. You could miss all your shots in one game but still have confidence as your teammates will urge you to keep taking shot they know you can make.

Second, when you play with friends who know every move in your arsenal, chemistry is built. I can't tell you how many times my squad has won when the other team may have some better players, solely because our team chemistry is too much for the other team. Just as the Mavericks proved in these NBA Playoffs, a team that plays like a team will always prevail.

But lastly, the best part of any pick-up game is the outcome. The end score. When the score limit of 11, 16, or 21 is reached by one team. When some one makes that game winning shot, one of two things can take place. Either the person unleashes all the pent up emotion that built up during the game and lets out a scream (I've seen players jump into their teammates as if they won a championship..relax now), or the person simply pumps his fist, and acts like he's been there before. The second action seems to be the most common, as one unspoken rule of pick up is to be respectful..but that's not always followed.

Pick-up basketball is more than the words that I've written here. There is so much raw emotion, anger, fury, and madness that could happen on the court, especially under the summer sun. There is also calm, level-headedness, and collectivity that also could take place, and that's when the game is at its best.

My Epiphany

I was sitting in the back of my 3:30 class, as I did every Tuesday. I was jotting down notes as well as I could..or as well as I thought I could. The professor was lecturing to a class of about 30 college students, all of whom seemed to understand everything she was saying. Everyone except for me that is. This class was pretty important. Maybe even..major. (See what I did there? Oh yeah, I was an accounting major less than 50 days ago.)

This was Intermediate Accounting.

This class was known for being the top of the mountain for accounting classes. Except when you reach the top, you look up and realize God built another mountain on TOP of said mountain. One of my advisors once asked me how I was doing in this class. I said I was doing "okay." And he said, "great! It's all uphill from here!"

Now maybe you understand the importance of this class. Let's go back to that 3:30 class on Tuesday:

I stopped taking my notes. I realized..what the hell am I writing these notes down for? I don't understand any of this. I sat back in my chair. Scanned the room. Looked at the people around me and searched for an answer inside my cloudy brain. I didn't know why I was there. First of all, I hate numbers. I hate math. I hate crunching numbers. I hate math. I hate doing equations and memorizing them. Also, I hate math.

Second of all, I never really put that much effort when I was deciding my major. Both my parents are accountants. Hell, even my sister is an accountant! My whole life, I was surrounded by that environment, imagine that. When it came time to choose my major, the choice seemed easy. My parentals never pressured me, but it just seemed like the path my life was destined for. Ha, looks like destiny belongs in movies and this year's NBA Finals.

Time to fast forward in the interest of time. It took about a month of thinking, questioning myself, listening to others' opinions, and, best of all, getting excited. My plan was to switch my major to English, something I LOVED studying, while pursuing a track in Pre-Law.

Let me tell you now. This is the first time, EVER, in my life that I've been excited about any sort of education. I'm motivated like never before. I say that in complete honesty.

I've given you the start and end of my epiphany and choice to change majors. The real fun is when I reminisce about some heart to hearts I've had with multiple people about this subject. Please check back again.

And thank you for reading.

Erick Julian