Idyll City at dusk

meet me where the trains pull in

Do you ever sit and wonder what life is like on the other side of the tracks? I’ve grown up deeply rooted but I’ve never stopped searching for more. For different. For the experience of living. I guess that’s why I write.

Hi, I’m Samantha Jon. I’m sure you probably already know much of this already, but in case you don’t, I figured it best to start with a little introduction (especially because I’ve been known to forget the small talk and dig into dark secrets within 3.5 seconds of meeting someone).

First and foremost, I’m a writer. I started as a child and teen with poetry and only started typing away at novels in my adulthood. I’m happily married, have no children and one dog, live on farmland my family homestead, and have intense anxiety. My career is in networking & experience, which I love and work to incorporate into the writing community all of the time. I’m a Scorpio, enneagram 8, INTP-T. That should be all the basics.

Oh. And I’m desperately in love with love.

Now, back to the good stuff. Writing to me explores vulnerabilities and hopes, passions and fears, within ourselves and demands we step out of what we already know. Or more importantly, what we’re trying to hide from. At least, my favorite writing does. So I tell stories because I’m a dreamer and a logician and someone who cannot fathom a world I don’t understand. And how can I understand lives I, myself, have not lived?

This first post isn’t what I anticipated. I wanted to tell you why you should stick around. Thank you for joining in the first place. Give you a reason to say, ‘Hey, this Samantha girl is interesting’. But in true storyteller fashion, it came out the way it needed to and all I can ask from you now is to meet me where the trains pull in. Look at each side of the tracks. Skip between them with me. Let’s explore a life we’ve not yet lived. Together. In an Idyll City at dusk.

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A few things I’m obsessing over lately…

This poem by Pablo Neruda translated by Mark Eisner (seriously, one of my favorites of all time)

XVII (I do not love you...)
BY PABLO NERUDA
TRANSLATED ON HELLO + POETRY

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Reference: https://hellopoetry.com/poem/9959/xvii-i-do-not-love-you/ 

Chicken sandwiches - seriously. Here’s how I make mine:

• Buns & chicken breast bought directly from my local butcher

• Seasoned with Kinders no salt garlic & herb seasoning (LOTS of seasoning), baked at 425 degrees for 28 mins

• lettuce, tomato, sliced avocado, sweet onion (I’ve also used red onion for a little more bite)

• 1/2 tablespoon buttermilk ranch or Trader Joes Awesome Sauce

  • Finish with a side salad or chips. You’ll thank me for this!

These lines from my current WIP inspired by Edgar Allan Poe

“You look like you’re about to run, Eve,” he sings my name like a sad song I can’t help but want to hear on repeat. “If you do, can I come with you?”

Eight simple words and yet they sound like a sonnet from his lips. Eight words and I desperately want to say yes. I want to pool into a puddle at his feet and let him drag me into whatever adventure he’s seeking next. I want to hear every bit of poetry I know he is dying to spill. Eight simple words and I can almost forget myself. Almost.

But eight words don’t erase eight years. 

They don’t erase the leaving. Or the distance. They don’t erase mistakes and stolen kisses and broken promises. All they do is dig the grave deeper and for once, loving a Poe to death doesn’t hold any appeal.