Inside the Mind of a Nathan

Do you know how big the world is? It's all the big. It's frikkin huge. Like HUGE. It grinds my gears whenever anyone says, "small world." I'm like, "No, Laura, it's a small county, and you've never been outside the state."

As much as I want it to work, it's tough to write while listening to music. However, I recently saw "The Greatest Showman." Mr. Barnum's true history aside, it was an inspiring movie! The music itself is inspiring! Each song is passionate, and almost every song is about breaking through barriers, rewriting one's story, daring to dream, trying again, and not giving up!

Here's the thing: I love writing. It's not quite the same with pen and paper. My handwriting is pretty sad, and it doesn't feel as smooth. It feels realer, flesh-and-blood-er — but typing is faster and smoother. There's something especially satisfying about knowing what I want to say, and letting my fingers tap against the little letters that express a thingy.

PARADOXES They happen. Irony too. I'm so nervous about irony though! Apparently, it has some precise definition, and I'm half-sure I always misuse it. For example, the song "Ironic" by Alanis Morisette is not ironic. "Rain on your wedding day" etc. are just unfortunate. Irony is something special that I don't understand.

For my writing class, I've been trying to encourage my students to dump out their figurative insides. I believe, when all the insides — all the emotions and fears and hopes and hates and miseries and passions and all — are out in plain sight, a writer can then truly begin to work. One of my students remarked that he would prefer to process things with his intellect — as opposed to his feelings. In an email, he shared some of his past that reminded me of my past.

My brain has exploded. My brain is exploding. Like in the movies when a planet or a star explodes, my brain is having those recurring blasts: one boom, then everything collapses inward, then a bigger boom, then implosion, then BA-BA-BOOM. Except it's still going.