I am twenty-one and done. It wasn’t a long road, but rest-assured, it was a tedious one. I received my bachelor’s of arts in Environmental Studies and Planning at the ripe age of twenty. I set out some career paths a month after graduating. I set achievable fitness goals to better prepare myself for said paths. And I am now seeing how it goes. I am nowhere near where I want to be, but I am definitely a few steps closer.

The thing about college is that it in many ways shields you from the big picture. You spend semesters upon semesters thinking about the future, and by the time you’ve got your diploma in your grasp, it’s as though someone has removed this colored veil off of your eyes. It is a little bit terrifying but in many ways liberating. It forces you to explore in different spaces that you’re unaccustomed to. 

I remember being in senior seminar and seeing an unreal level of fear and anxiety in most sessions, especially the closer we moved towards graduation day. Everyone wanted roughly the same thing; a stable, well-paying full-time job in the environment field within a month of graduation. When news came out of cuts to state and federal environmental agencies, it was a rather dark time in that class. Our two professors took it head on, exclaiming how yes, it will indeed be hard for some of us to get jobs in the governmental branch. For many of this graduating department, their hearts were set on these sorts of jobs for years. I for one threw around the idea from time to time. Talk mainly transitioned towards the positive response the non-profit sector would have, with jobs likely opening up more and more here. 

It was exciting to think of all the things I’d like to possibly do with my degree. There was one month I thought heavily on environmental policy, and another where I considered outdoor education. With so many fresh ideas coming to the forefront, I couldn’t find myself being content with pursuing just one. I had a longing to further my education one day. A PhD sounds nice, but not anytime too soon. 

Being a land manager one day would be amazing, but so would being a park ranger. A dream of mine was to be a game warden. It meshed the two worlds I had loved the most; environmental studies and law enforcement. 

Now that I have had time to take a breath and consider what it is I trult want to do at this point in my life and early career, I find myself leaning more towards law enforcement. I used to want to be a cop growing up, and I never let that dream go. Academically, nothing peaked my interest more than environmental studies. And if I do continue my education later down the line, I have no doubt that it will be some aspect of environmental studies. It not only fascinates me, but likewise drives me onward. It is a passion, but also a will of its own.

It’s been awhile since I have made an update, so my apologies!





I’ll finish early to find that the world wasn’t ready.

There are places I want to be, but never alone, you see?

I want to do this and that and that again,

But I have to do that and this and this again.

Stability is a mystery at this stage;

It should be outlined on my degree.

“Passionate, but little guarantee.”

“Self-willed, but too soon to gauge.”

Sign me up!

Make me king.

Interlock Shock


My mind hasn’t gone down that road in quite a long time.

At first there was curiosity,

But then there was honest to God fear.

I’m on my own path as it is,

And it’s definitely the one I want to be on.
But there are times I recall the old road;

There is no interlock between these two nodes.

Sometimes I worry about its maintenance and care,

But something tells me these are thoughts I can’t share.

Lint of Crimson


I was in the moment;

Caught off guard.

You didn’t notice.

Hard is hard.


I saw my memory dance before me,

And it was glorious, let me tell you.

But it wasn’t like that,

And you bet I know it.


Sometimes my mind likes to add colors where they aren’t supposed to be.

I know too well that memory was golden grey.

As plain as could be,

But golden to me.


I deserved better than that;

Every color the eye can see.

Yes, we know that now,

With a new partner to be.


I see shades of fuchsia ingrained in my sockets;

Vibrant evergreens along my nerves;

Lint of hints of crimson within my old coat’s pockets.

But lint is lint;

Fleeting, is it not?

The memory came as sudden as the memory left.

No lint of crimson left to preserve.

Not when I deserve an endless palette of colors to explore.



Twenty-Five Stories


It hurts when you know it is so true;

That they are in the right.

You’re left questioning whether that leaves you in the wrong.

It’s not a battle of what he said versus what she said,

Nor is it one fought over with logic or seduction.

It’s one on brutal honesty of limitations and expectations.

There was nothing to gain from this,

But everything to lose.

The finish line looks more grotesque than the starting sprint.

Somebody tell me where the true victory lies.

And how can I reach it?