Ashley Pfaff

The first day that I was informed about the twitterive, I fell into a slight state of shock. I am not someone who is good with expressing my feelings, nor do I do well with piecing small things together to create a bigger story. I had NO idea where I wanted to go with my twitterive, and it seemed as if my tweets were of no help to me at all.

Then I began to look beyond the meanings of my tweets. There were a lot of bible verse, sappy love songs, and sentences that expressed the feeling of heartbreak. Then it hit me. I had been through a really bad breakup within the past few months and it caused a mixed amount of emotions, the big one being depression. I then realized I was taking steps to conquer my emotions by turning to god. My only problem: I had no idea how to narrow it down to a theme.

It is extremely hard for me to make final decisions, and I often doubt myself and my work. On top of that, procrastination is like a form of art work for me, it is my job to wait to the last minute to complete things. I knew that I could not do that for this assignment and I told myself that I wouldn't, but I failed. I admit, I will wait till the last night to piece things together, not because I choose to, but because the pressure allows me to think best.

Heading into our group assessments I am worried, but excited for the feedback as well. This is something that I know I can not figure out on my own, so my groups opinions will e highly beneficial. Below are questions that will further help me create a twitterive that I am fully satisfied with.

1. What could I consider my theme? My place?
2. Is the heartbreak to finding love, mainly in god, a good transition? What could be done to make it more fluent?
3. Can you identify the main characters? Main Point?
4. Will the "letters to god" make for a good repetend? Why or why not?
5. What styles could I use besides letters/diary entries that will tie this twitterive together?

The Following poem is comprised of tweets that I have posted on Twitter in the past few months.

Inspired Tweets
Take me far away before I melt into the ground, and my words get used against me. more huntchbacks of laundry world walking in! Time to get out of here#strangeplace #twitterive. De-lofted my bed, the view looks so different from down here!#twitterive. Picking up the peices and sewing them together for my #twitterive. The key to fixing a broken heart, baking until you can't bake anymore#twitterive. That moment you realize that you are not over it #twitterive. What felt good, turned into something so wrong. #twitterive.   God grant me the serenity to just get through this off day! #twitterive. No motivation to crawl out of bed, i'm stuck! #twitterive. Not sleeping tonight #thedevilinside 
 
      

Find My way Back

Take me far away,
It’s time to get out of here.
The view so different.

Im stuck picking up the pieces,
Fixing a broken heart.
That moment, turning into something so wrong.

Just get through this,
No motivation.
No sleeping tonight.

This post consists of two pieces of micro fiction. Each piece consists of one tweet that inspired its background. The tweets are in bold above each short story.

 "The key to fixing a broken heart, baking until you can't bake anymore"
     Sappy love songs blasting on the radio and a dainty apron tied around her tiny waist, the only two things piecing her together. He left yesterday, leaving her hopelessly dreaming for his return, but she understood that it was for the better. “I’m doing this for you”, those words playing in her head over and over, the music slowly fading from her mind. She picked up a wooden spoon, swirling her fresh made cake batter in circles, making its roughness gradually become smooth. Something so simple gave her hope, making her realize that these tough times could only get better. After carefully pouring, she placed the cake in the oven, returning to the daydreams of her lost lover. The heat from the oven made her ponder the worst; how was he surviving on the front line? Would there be a day that could be his last? Twenty minutes left on the timer, if only that was the countdown until she could embrace him in her arms again. These were the days she needed him most, the days that no one else could begin to understand. How could he help her now, what are you supposed to do when the one who helped you at your worst is the one who is causing your heart to tear in half. The timer interrupts her mindless rambles, for a minute she forgot how her thoughts began. A new recipe complete, if only there was one for her broken heart.

"The world is so stereotypical today! Note to self: A size zero still isn't going to be perfect."     

     Hanging helplessly over her porcelain throne, she can’t concentrate, the perfect body overwhelming her thoughts. There it goes again, her stomach convulsing with pains, but saying goodbye to her previous meal is no problem for her. The same procedure every day, three times to be exact, hiding her horrible habit from the world, but it is easier said than done. She cannot remember the day it started, but it does not matter now, as long as she can see the results in the mirror. Her body weak, but she does her best to stand, to regain the pride that she previously had. “This is not my fault, I have no control.” She tells herself over and over again, covering up the guilt that she feels inside. Now, standing in front of the mirror, a white ghost staring back at her, how could this happen? Her focus goes to her frail figure, but she can’t see what her viewers see.  “Mirror, mirror on the wall, I am the ugliest of them all”, she fails to realize the truth. Running her hands up and down her body, her protruding bones have no influence over her thoughts. “Only a few more pounds to go and then I will stop, summer is just around the corner”. The likelihood of that happening, slim, her beach time will be spent in a hospital bed, IVs keeping her hostage. 

     This may sound lame, but since arriving to Rowan two years okay, I have had a fear of doing my laundry in the student center. There is something about being enclosed in a small area with other students who I do not know. Meeting new people overwhelms me on its own, but through a bare enclosed area, and my anxiety gets the best of me. Even when room mates lugged their never ending loads of laundry to the "dungeon", I always refused to go. Instead, I would travel the hour home on the weekends and do my laundry in the comfort of my own home, as Native Place of mine.

     When I received this assignment, I had a tough time deciding where to go that would be strange, but facing my fears would be like killing two birds with a stone. After class the other day, I decided to take a seat at a table in the laundry room, and become overwhelmed instantly. As i sat, smelling the aroma of laundry detergent, I felt sick, but as time when on, I felt comfort with my surroundings.

     I guess you could say that I related to the feelings of the characters of the Dubliners by James Joyce because of the anxiety and excitement they felt before setting out on their adventure. They were afraid of being caught before leaving, just as I was worried about sitting in a place that I was unfamiliar with. As soon as they set out on their adventure though, they immediately felt a sense of relief, which I felt as soon as others joined the laundry room, and also as I left to head back to my dorm

Inspiring Tweets:
more huntchbacks of laundry world walking in! Time to get out of here #strangeplace #twitterive 

well, now that there is laundry soap on the floor, looks like someone is a bit clumbsy! #strangeplace #twitterive 

Oh look! life! someone lugging their clothes into this nightmare! run!#twitterive #strangeplace 

Its creepy down here! no wonder why i've refused to do my laundry in this building #twitterive #strangeplace 

washer out of order, not a surprise! #strangeplace #twitterive 

It smells like soap in here, laundry heavennn #strangeplace#twitterive 

     Being a student at Rowan University for three years now, I have come to know my way around campus. The best spots to study, the places with the best scenery, where to eat, etc. It was only appropriate that I now call Rowan my native place, as I spend more time here than I do at home. When the time came to pick a place, I knew exactly where I would go, The back patio. It was a beautiful day, and during the spring I find myself sitting there often, watching the scenery around me, while completing my homework of course.

     Rowan has helped me grow as a person, to transform into the teacher that I hope to someday become. I have met many people, all who have shaped me in some way, and because of this I can relate to the characters in the peice by Wendell Berry, titled The art of the common place. The narrator talks about the influences and the knowledge that his native place brought to them, and my feelings are mutual. Between the professors here who have shaped my ways of thinking, and the friendships that have shaped my personality, this place has filled me with the knowledge that I will need to succeed in the future.


Inspired Tweets:music faintly in one ear, the slight noises of the moving man made stream of water at my side. #nativeplace #twitterive 

The veiw of the student center straight ahead, a slow movement of students around me #nativeplace #twitterive 

I hear the wheels of what sounds like a skateboard. Yupp, that confirms it, poor kid just ate the cement #nativeplace #twitterive 

A friend comes into me view, she screams my name. It has been a while #nativeplace #twitterive 

The suns shining down, i can barely see my computer screen. How is it this nice in the middle of winter. #nativeplace #twitterive 

Shorts and a Tshirt? Alright, i dont know if its THAT nice out. crazy kid. #nativeplace #twitterive. 

It is a little bare around here, everyone must be in class or not hungry. #nativeplace #twitterive 

I hear singing, over my music, and not good singing. Someone get the tape! #nativeplace #twitterive 

Alright i have had enough, nothing interesting is taking place anymore. #nativeplace #twitterive