Airports

December 21, 2016… 8:27 p.m.

Kansas City Airport. So many different faces shuffling around. A boy, who looks lost, has past by my seat at least 5 times. Each time I see him, he seems more and more annoyed. I don’t blame him, it’s easy to get lost in here. People walking one way, people walking the other way. Everyone seems to be rushing somewhere. A couple stood at the self check in kiosks. The man kept checking his pockets and the woman was rummaging through her purse. “Where is my damn phone, Carson?”   “I don’t know, Derek, maybe you left it on the bus.”  I hope they’re not going on some kind of vacation together, because this would be a horrible start. A man sat across from me, he must’ve called at least 5 different people, and seemed extremely happy. A woman sat against the wall, her eyes closed. It seemed like this was the first time she got to truly relax in a really long time. I could tell her eyebrows are usually pulled together, because there was a crease. Another man is sitting alone. He keeps checking his phone and I can’t really tell if he’s doing it out of habit or if he's waiting for a message.We’ve made eye contact several times now, he doesn’t seem too happy. He seems very bitter. A family just came to sit in my area. The typical mom, dad, a son, and a daughter. They’re all blonde. The kids have the most adorable noses and eyes. They look like they’re excited for whatever their parents have promised them. However, the parents don’t seem like they’re in love. The husband kissed his wife’s cheek in the same manner that he helped his child up into the chair. I don’t think they’re having problems, I just don’t think they love each other the same way they did when they first met and decided to get married. A man just ran by, barely holding all his stuff, he must be running late… Every single person here ranges from messy grey on grey sweatpants and sweatshirt, to high heels and dressy trench coats. Really brings me to wonder, who are they? Where were they? Where are they going? Did the boy who was lost finally finally find what he was looking for? Did the couple who couldn’t find Derek’s phone, find his phone and make up? Is the man who called 5 different people, finally going back home to his family? What stresses out the woman with a crease between her brows? Why can she only finally relax at an airport? Is the bitter man who keeps checking his phone, in an argument with a loved one? And I wonder about the husband and wife who don’t seem to love each other… did they ever love each other? Was their marriage and an impulsive decision? And the man who ran past me… I wonder if he made it in time…

Airports are an amazing place to go. Inspiration for writing flows frown every corner. Every single person is going somewhere, or coming home. Every single person has a story. Something has led up to them arriving at that airport with wide eyes and toothy grins. 

In the dozens of times that I have visited the airport, I have seen so much. Someone running into their parents’ waiting arms. Someone, just married, excited for the adventures awaiting them. Someone hugging a loved one, with tears streaming down their face like a river. Someone getting broken up with in the middle of the airport. So many beautiful people that I’ll never know, and beautiful stories that I’ll never hear. We often allow ourselves to just think that there is uno world outside of us and our personal problems, but that’s not true. This world is full of unwritten stories, just waiting for someone to pick up a pen and paper and turn it into something.

Writing as a Gift

Dear Versaviya,

I honestly don't even know where to start. You're amazing, and kind, and beautiful. You are a wonderful person and I'm so blessed to have you in my life. I appreciate all that you do for me, and any time we spend together is never dull. Our friendship has gone through quite a pickle jar, yet we're still holding on tight. 

I know you were worried about drifting apart after Oleg died, but I don't think that could happen. The only reason Max and Oleg drifted apart was because Max moved away. I know it still is possible but with a friendship like ours, there's almost no point in worrying. 

I remember when we were friends but not really, and hanging out was always awkward, but now you are my family and I look forward to our coffee nights like no other. I know that with school and work we don't really see each other as often as we'd like to, but we still make as much time for each other as possible. And whenever we do, we have a blast. Whether we literally just take a nap, or get side boob tats. The majority of my good memories have been made with you... And you know, we're still young so I intend on making a whole lot more.

This letter is all over the place, but the point is, I love you. You're insanely important to me and I really hope that I never lose you the way that Max lost Oleg. You're not allowed to die before me, or any time soon.

Stay golden, my dude

Yours truly,

Anastasiya Istomina

Final Reflection

1. Throughout this semester, we've written quite a lot. One of my favorite pieces was the one I wrote about the ocean needing to let its emotions out. 

2. When I read this question, what comes to mind is the MSU Writing Conference. I may not have read any work there, but I heard a lot. Every single shared piece of writing had so much depth and beauty. One girl shared a piece, telling people to just be honest with her. She was absolutely amazing, and so was her writing. It was very hard to listen to without tearing up and wanting to cry a little bit.

3.Setting up this blog was a fun and cute experience. Coming up with the name wasn't too hard, Elysian Visions is like relating to a heavenly characteristic, and I think that the feeling of writing is like a form of paradise on earth, so I think it goes. Sharing my work with the world seems crazy yet awesome. I don't know if anyone cared to look, but I know a pen pal from Russia did, and that's already pretty insane. Someone across the globe read something that I wrote. I will definitely continue using this blog, to post pieces that I may write in the future.

4.Journaling is my safe haven. My journal is full of angsty teen rants and very edgy pieces about sad things. I will continue to journal. I will forever continue to journal. Even when I'm dead, I'll turn over in my grave and write edgy poems on the side of my coffin. I will write about life, and death. Happiness and sadness, loneliness and fullness, new friendships beginning and old friendships dying. I will write about anything that crosses my mind, blossoms my mind, or breaks my mind. I will write, and write, and write, until my hands fall off.

5.  That was the day I met her. I was alone, watching the musical, but when I glanced to the side, I saw her. She was also alone. Her brown hair fell on her  face and her bright smile lit up the room. She turned her head, and for a brief second, our eyes met. My entire body lit up on fire, but it felt bitter sweet. I was sure she didn't notice me, but after the show I heard a kind voice. 'I'm Amelia."

And the rest, as they say, is history.

6. Some people are afraid of the ocean.

The cold breeze tearing at their cheeks,

the freezing fingers reaching towards their bare feet,

and the mighty waves crashing into the boulders.

Some people think the ocean's great rage is scary.

But it's not like that at all,

everything is beautiful if you look at it right.

The ocean's anger isn't something to fear,

it is merely an emotional storm.

The violent and beautiful sea has to cry, too.

Even the invincible ocean 

needs a minute to just scream and throw something.

All the pent up rage needs to escape,

and it's beautiful. 

7. I suppose I will continue to write "creatively."  I get a whole lot out of it, because when I write creatively I could have a very deep meaning but all I'm talking about is colour. This slightly differs from the writing I do in my personal journal because when I'm angry or crying and slamming the ink into the paper, it doesn't matter to me if my words flow or where my inspiration came from.

8. Hey, you! You're awesome. Your writing is awesome, even if it's not everyone's "style"! You keep doing you, and don't let anyone tell you that you're not worth something. You are one in 7 billion, as Randy Bacon had said. No one will ever be exactly like you. You are extraordinary. And anyone who doesn't see that, is not worth your time.

9.Even in the hardships,

a beautiful melody flowing

will make your heart sing.

Music can save

a lost soul, 

and heal a broken heart.

Even when everything is hopeless,

music gives you hope.

When the tunnel seems darker than ever,

music turns the light on.

A Recipe For Heartbreak

Heartbreak

1 Boy

1 Girl (Unless otherwise preferred)

3 years of life

1 happy relationship

1 engagement

1 or 2, or maybe 5 changes of plan

1 breakup

Directions: The first thing you're going to want to do is meet a person of interest, and become friends with them. About 2 years into the friendship, you're going to fall deeply in love with said person. Shortly after making the happy relationship official, you're going to have to visit each other in your home towns. Multiple times throughout the year. THEN, the boy is going to want to buy a gorgeous ring and propose to said girl (unless otherwise preferred). The wedding planning will start then, and the happy relationship will be happier than ever. So while all this is happening, the boy is going to start changing his mind. Changing plans. Maybe even start drifting away. The sweet boy you had at the beginning has turned kind of bitter at this point. So once that happens, you're going to shove your hand into the girl's chest and just grab hold of her heart. Very slowly and steadily you're going to be pulling it out of her. The boy is going to start being rude, careless, distant, and heartless. So give that about 2 months, and then finally rip the girl's heart out completely. That's when she finally dumps his disrespectful ass.

The End

Enjoy your heartbreak.