Drops of Inspira

  Hello!  It's the last couple of weeks of the semester for me. One of the re-occurring themes we've been discussing is identity. What makes us who we are?   In a discussion board, we had to answer the question: does our occupation define us? Honestly, the question made me mad. I've gone through so many different jobs since I started working at 16, and if I changed identities as many times as I changed occupations, I would be an even more insecure wreck than I am now.   I don't like the question because it places limits on who I am. It tries to stick me in a box and diagnose me. The rebel in me hates that. Before I get completely run away with the topic, let me give you this month's prompt. This month's poetry prompt is: Okay, so what does a mirror have to do with the subject of identity? Well, let me just tell you with my response to the above prompt. I tried to fit it on a nice and pretty graphic, but it wouldn't fit. How appropriate.... Broken by  J...

Hello, I know this is highly irregular for me to be posting for a third time this month, but a lot has happened in the world as I'm sure you all know. I don't think there is one person who isn't affected by the virus that has circled the world.  I'm not sure how long it will last, but I know everything has an end and this can't last forever.  I don't understand what is going on, why people are acting the way they are, other than that they're scared. I get it. I'm scared too. About a month ago, one of my uncles died suddenly.  My dad got a phone call that he was in the hospital and was passing quickly. He died within hours. I'll admit that I didn't know how to process it. Until then, we had assumed he was fine. We didn't even know he was sick.  I was at work when I found out and tried to keep it together, but the tears came. I left work and came home with a heavy heart. The following day, I had another shift at work. I don...