Sunday, December 21, 2008

Never the Same

It's been too long,
the world's on fire,
Pain can't be stopped,
can we stop desire?
What we had will never
be the same.

Some days I can see
that the future is bright.
Other times
I can see the light.
It's shining into my eyes,
I reach for you.

Can you steady me?
Can you show me the way?
Would you help me find
the words to say?
I'm stumbling over feelings
just for you.

I've found a way
to keep my heart intact.
But my life longing
for something back.
Maybe you could help me
find my way.

But I've walked alone
and my heart's been aching.
I carried you,
but my back was breaking.
It's been too long,
how can I find you?

Little Soldiers

100 little soldiers
lined up at the stakes.
100 little minds,
each reliving their mistakes.

They played in Daddy's uniform,
when they were too young to stand.
They knew the stripes they wore
were theirs when they could command.

All those years of waiting
and all those moments never taken.
They were all for one single dream.
Yet that dream was forsaken.

They didn't know what to fight for,
those little toys of war.
But they were always proud to be
the little soldiers of the big sea.

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Winter Light

Winter days, you've left me cold,
my last breath has faded away.
White winter, come closer to me,
and tell me you're here to stay.

Hide me under the silhouettes
of the frosted white pines.
Hold me in the tangled branches
and whisper that you're mine.

Wrap me in the wind,
and cover me in the the snow.
Just give me all you can
before you have to go.

You've brought this to me,
this beauty, this bliss.
You've given me a winter's day,
and a white winter's kiss.

Friday, December 5, 2008

Broken Wings

The risen gates won't open up for me.
My wings are far too broken.
I can't hold myself up any longer,
I'm falling.

I've fallen apart, barely breathing.
I keep drifting, my heart is still beating.
My eyes tell you that I'm about to break,
Keep looking at me.

One thousand broken hearted lovers.
One thousand winged messengers.
Take these broken wings,
save me from what I've become.

I'll hide from what I lost in this life.
My soul searches for a place unknown,
I'm so lost, so far away from it all.
I'm so far, so far from home.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Love Story and Lessons of Life

www.m-kaynotebook.blogspot.com

Love Story + Lessons of Life.

"My one and only Edward the one who would go online to talk to me and the who who if you challenged him he would do it. Well yes so I was reading this book and every time i read his name my heart skipped a beat. I thought of little hearts and my stomach lurched violently. His name was music to my ears everytime I heard it I'd turn looking for him. His lips, smile, and personality called out to me in a harmonic unison his unruly blue hair clashin with that unison violently making it beautiful. The way I'd look at him you could immeidietly tell that i liked him. But, it seemed that he didn't even like me at all. He said he did but i still couldnt believe."

- excerpt from my love story that's just the beginning =)

Hey I have a long love story and lessons of life on my page www.m-kaynotebook.blogspot.com

check it out and comment evrything plz =)

Wednesday, December 3, 2008

My Life

I spent my days wandering,
searching for a chance.
Sleeping with my eyes wide,
afraid to miss a glance
of what I had lost, my life.

My life has been a question
with no answers ever found.
I've walked these streets too long,
now I'm lying on the ground.

I found my way for a day,
and my life in a night.
But I lost it all again,
I'm done putting up a fight.

To everyone here
I'm just a face in the crowd.
Could anyone hear me
if I shouted out loud?

Tomorrow will be harder,
don't make another mistake.
When you're living my life,
you're broken or you'll break.
When I'm living my life,
it's my choice to make.

Your Heart

It's my tears
that make you want to change.
Look into my eyes,
travel to the depths of my soul.
Say a million things
without a trace of sound.

Consume my life
with the rhythmic beatings
of your very heart.
A feeling only felt,
a fight fought for too long.

What you are to the world,
I become the very same.
For you, I'll live a million lives,
for it's a thought of the heart,
and not of the mind.

Monday, December 1, 2008

The Old Married Couple Routine

Did you switch that gym class?
Are doing of in science?
Hun what day is it tomorrow?
Are you listening to me Filipe?
What are we doing this weekend?
Can You help me with Spanish?
Where'd you go?

Question which are meaningless.
No meat no matter.
What have we turned into?
Stay up late, no one cares.
When the morning comes it's just Come on, get up Hun.
And then you realize that this is what it's turned into.
Just to “Hello love, how was you day? How was work?”
The Old Married Couple Routine.

So you stop, and you say “Hey, you remember that time...”
That time we stayed up all night long, that time we watched the sun rise.
And hey maybe this is what life is, an actual conversation.
But how many times does that really happen?
Cuz we're all so busy, and so stressed.
And all our life is is yelling and fighting, and we lose sight of what we loved.

So you fight, and it's all just play.
But the Old Married Couple Routine gives it away.
And yeah the movies, they're real nice.
But is that really anything?
No. Just the fluff in your sandwich.
So you say, “Hey. Lets get away.”
“Let's go to a place we can really call home.”
“Where the people don't care cuz they don't seem to know.”
But the old routine just grows new in time.
And you realize what love really is.

We're Not That Bad Anyway

Teenage lovers split apart.
Both with broken hearts.
Hooked up about a month ago.
But now everyone hates her so.
Now his thoughts run too fast through his mind.
And every thing’s a secret from her.
We all try to pacify her every need.
Do we really need to?


And we take, take.
We break, brake.
We want, want.
We need, need.
But we really don’t get anything until we really try.
It’s not really handed to us on gold and silver plates.

The poetry we write, and the lies we speak.
Seem to mesh together and will soon meet.
You try to weasel your way back into my life.
Try to get me to kiss and tell.
Well news flash baby I keep it to myself.

And we take, take.
We break, brake.
We want, want.
We need, need.
Life’s harder here, to fit in.
We’re so crazy no one wants to let us in.

And I kind of want to cry cuz it’s kind of overwhelming.
But I forget I live in boy world now.
No more girl world where I can cry.
This is the world where we kiss and tell; and where we love second date.
This world is so different, how could I possibly relate?

And we take, take.
We break, brake.
We want, want.
We need, need.
When ends meet, we meet there.
We’ll break every law to get there.

We take, take.
We break, brake.
We want, want.
We need, need
So help please; run for our needs.
Let us in we’re not that scary.

Friday, November 28, 2008

Reflection

Look in the mirror.
Tell me what you see.
Are you staring at a stranger?
Or are you staring back at me?

You lost yourself,
when you looked away.
You searched for your face,
but you were led astray.

You sat, you wondered.
But only questions came.
In the midst of it all,
you only found more shame.

No pain, no gain.
No trust, no love.
What goes around comes around.
Haven't you had enough?

Insomnia

You're eyes outlined
in sleepless nights,
the tears you've cried.
Is it really too late
to make this right?

I'll be patient,
if you tell me to be.
But behind these questions,
do you know what I need?

Tick tock...tick tock...
your life is wasting away.
No more choices,
only a price you've paid.

And your wall of lies
has crumbled in agony.
Yet that guilt remains,
a sorrow so sweet.
Just wave your white flag
and surrender to defeat.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Held Down

I held on as long as I could,
but you kept pulling me down.
I cried out for you to set me free.
But I never moved from the ground.

And now I have fallen,
I'm farther back than before.
There's no place for me here,
I'm not wanted anymore.

Do you really know me?
Will you apologize, let me go?
If you cry me a river from above,
I'll try not to drown from below.

But you don't know me,
you don't wear these chains.
And you'll never know me,
you'll never feel my pain.

Tell yourself you're helping me,
that it's all for the best.
Tell me that I should love you,
that I should feel blessed.

It's hard to tell,
are you lost in all your lies?
Maybe soon you'll remember
why it's you I despise.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Overload/Mental Fermentation

PDF Adobe Acrobat file downloading read chapter fifteen AP exam turnitin.com GPA better grades don't relax keep it up write the essay reading analysis juggling balancing busy busy too busy matrix algebra cellular respiration thesis analysis due tomorrow procrastination stay on your toes college application pressure expectations music busy busy busy stress last minute achieves well on tests and quizzes participates atively in class unexcused absences wow i wonder who will be impressed by my punctuality make up gym classes do your best give 110% percent but wait a minute that's not even a real number audition guilt drama learn your lines no sleep do it later pyruvate energy electron carrier science fair project extra test quiz grade lab blanking out matrix decoding inverse sugar craving doodle loss of focus distraction workload homework bearing down the desire to scream overachiever

-------------BRAIN OVERLOAD-------------
YOU ARE SUBMITTING TOO MUCH INFORMATION AT THIS TIME. PLEASE SLOW DOWN INPUT TO REGAIN FUNCTIONALITY.

When there is oxygen present in a cell, it goes through a process called cellular respiration in order to give the body energy in the form of adenine triphosphate, or ATP. When oxygen is not present in the cell, it is forced to go through a process called fermentation instead. The two kinds of fermentation are lactic acid fermentation and alcohol fermentation. These days it seems like fermentation would be a good metaphor for my life. Work has used up all my good energy and now I'm running on empty. This gives my life a leg cramp, forcing me to stop something or eventually fall over hard. This means I have to sacrifice some of the stuff I would love to be doing to complete homework assignments and the like. While this sacrifice is unwanted, it allows oxygen to flow back into the used areas of the life and function normally.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Kurt Vonschnitzel

It all started that crisp winter evening. Lily and Riley were throwing a Christmas party and they locked me in the attic so I wouldn’t get into mischief while they were preoccupied with their guests. They learned the hard way that letting me roam around during the parties wasn’t a good idea. You see, I have a thing for food, so whenever I smell something REALLY good, I go crazy and nothing can stand in my way until I get to that food. So after the first few dinner parties ended in disaster, they tried locking me in various rooms. I eventually found my way out of them all, but the only one that has given me a mound of trouble is the attic. It’s very dull and boring up in the attic. There is not one morsel of food, only the boxes filled with long forgotten knick-knacks and gizmos, the crates of comic books from when Riley was a boy, and the humongous Victorian mirror that stretched way up to the ceiling. The only light comes from the tiny skylight, and by now it is so covered in dust, spider webs, and who knows what else, that only a faint glow of light peeks through. It is very lonely up in the attic, as the only company I have is the lone rat or spider, and believe me, they are gigantic and repulsive and you had best stay away from them. Since Lily loves to throw parties, I’m stuck in the attic most of the time.
The smells wafting up from the dinning room are enough to drive anyone crazy, and since my sniffer is sensitive and sharp, it picks up those smells even clearer. This evening Lily’s feast is a roast duck, stuffed with various spices, herbs and veggies. On the side are mashed potatoes with thick, sumptuous gravy, sweet corn, and warm buttermilk biscuits. I can feel the craziness bubbling up from inside me, the smells are just too good to ignore. I jump up onto the makeshift stairway that I made out of the many boxes scattered around. I finally finished it the last time I was up here, so I haven’t been able to test it out. I have a map of my direct route to the dining room fresh in my head and as I’m clambering up the boxes I run through it once more. I push open the dusty skylight, dust imbedding itself into my golden fur so it looks like I have bad dandruff. I jump up onto the rooftop, the crisp winter air clearing my head, but only for a moment. And then I’m off running across the roof, my feet pitter-pattering against the thin layer of ice.
I jump suddenly as my spy phone rings. Yes, I am a secret agent. I work for the CIS, or Canine Investigation Squad. And yes I am a dog. The names Vonschnitzel, Kurt Vonschnitzel. No that’s not my real name. If I tell it to you, I
know you will laugh, like pee in your pants laugh. I answer the spy phone and who might be on the other line, but my good pal Mojo. “Hey Kurt, we need you at the
McGregory house, boss says there are a few men sneaking about. Wants to know what’s up.” “Kay, be right over.” I hang up the spy phone and shimmy down the nearest drain pipe. I hate leaving behind all that delicious food, but a mission comes before food, no matter what my stomach tells me. Besides, if we do a good job on this mission, the boss will make us a feast even bigger than the one back home.
Thankfully, I don’t have to run very far. The McGregory’s live about five houses away. Their house is a large, white, Italianate Victorian, which means, that the windows and rooms are all symmetrical, they are spacious and have high ceilings. It’s one of my all time dream homes.
As I near their house I slow down. I creep around to the back, and crawl through the hole in the fence that Moo, Maxwell, the McGregory’s daschund, and I dug long ago. The McGregory’s were away for Christmas vacation and no one was there to watch the house. “Hey, over here.” Mojo hissed from behind a pomegranate tree. His muzzle was all red from eating one two many pomegranates. I dart over, making as little noise as I dared. “Hey, what’s the status?” I ask, in barely more than a whisper. “The boss says that two men were sighted prowling around the yard tonight. They had on all black, carried guns, and each had a sack over their shoulder. Oh, and the scariest, and most suspicious thing of all, was that one of the guys had a limp and a scar going right through his right eye ” Mojo exclaimed. “Oh my god, like that guy the police have been trying to catch for over a month because he broke out of jail and has been trying to steal anything of value from targeted houses? ” I said in a rush. “Yeah, seems likely.” Mojo replied. Suddenly, a twig cracked to our right, and there they were, the two goons. Prowling through the night like cats stalking mice. Their voices were muffled by their midnight black scarfs so we couldn’t make out everything, but we did manage to hear words like rock, window, jewelry, safe, demolish ,escape.
I jumped suddenly as a sound of breaking class shattered the night. We looked towards the windows to see a giant gaping hole where, moments before, were giant panes of glass. The goons threw their sacks through first, and then clambered inside. Once we were sure they were in a different part of the house, we crept up to the window and jumped inside. All seemed normal except for the shattered glass on the ground.
We stole through the house, looking for any sign of danger. Once we knew the first floor was clear, we journeyed up to the second. As we neared the landing, we heard voices coming from one of the bed rooms. We peeked inside and what do
you know, there were the two hooligans, sifting through Mrs. McGregory’s jewelry box. We backed into another one of the rooms and tried to come up with a decent plan. “Ok, you give the boss the ok and tell him to call the police. Once the goons hear the sirens, they’ll try to escape. We have to distract them until the police can sort things out. If worst comes to worst, I will pull the lever on my spy phone and.......” I whispered. “No you can’t pull the lever That would be suicide ” Mojo whispered angrily. “If I have to sacrifice myself for the good of the mission, I will.” I hissed back. “Just signal the police and I’ll tell the boss the status.” I stalk to the opposite end of the room and call the boss. He picks up on the first ring and I explain the situation. Mojo sends out a distress signal to the nearest police station and then puts the spy phone away. “And now we wait.” he says. “And now we wait.” I reply.
We don’t have to wait long. Soon we hear sirens in the distance, getting closer by the minute. We rush into the hallway ready for the goons to come barging out any second. They stumbled out, cursing and shouting at each other. “How’d they find us?” One shouted. “I don’t know, but we got to get out of here.” The other replies. They try to hasten down the hallway, eager to escape, but they are laden with the heavy sacks full of jewelry and things of value. Halfway down the hallway, we bar the way, growling and barking. “Stupid dogs, get out of the way.” One yells. He aims a kick at me but I side step him easily. The heavy sack throws him off balance and I seize my chance and attack him. I scratch his face and he howls in pain. Meanwhile, Mojo has the other hoodlum cornered. He jumps and bites the man between his legs. He screams in pain and slumps to the floor. The other goon runs to his friends aid which was a mistake. He doesn’t see the bag of dropped possessions. He slips on it and bangs his head against the wall. He is immediately knocked unconscious. At that moment, the police charge up the stairs. They rush over and inspect the hooligans. We try to slip away unnoticed but to no avail. “Hey, you dogs, did you do this to these two criminals?” one of the cops asks. We nod our heads and smile sheepishly. “Thanks we owe you big time.” The cop pats our heads and we are dismissed.
We traipse down the stairs, not knowing what to do next. The front door is ajar and we make a beeline for the exit. As we step out into the light , we are greeted with applause and then Mary, Lily and Riley’s four year old daughter, runs up to me and gives me a great big hug. “Oh Puddles,” she says “You’re the bestest dog in the whole wide world.” I lick her face, only caring a little about Mojo’s snickering in the background.
After the police left, we all went back to my house for a celebration feast. We ate the leftover desserts from the long forgotten party. My favorites included schnitzel, mini fruit tarts, and Riley’s famous chocolate chip cookies. As I ate, and ate, and ate, I realized what a great life I had, and even though being locked in the attic all the time had its disadvantages, I loved being the dog I was and living with Lily and Riley.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Broken

Sticks and stones have left me aching,
broken bones have left me sore.
You've taken everything
I've ever known away.
Will you take anything more?

Words have come to hurt,
and pain has never fled.
And there comes a time
when tears must be shed.
And we can escape
for a moment or two.

But if life flashed before me,
I might turn around.
And I'd hope to hear
the faintest of sounds
that would save me.
And keep me from breaking.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Fly Away

I'm the first thing you see
as you open your eyes.
But the next thing you say
is you're saying goodbye.
And time seems to stop
as your waiting,
waiting for me.

The doors start to close,
you're trapped inside.
You run away and find
there's nowhere to hide.
And you're struggling,
walking in circles,
reliving the past.
And no one knows
if you're ever coming back.

But you're slipping into silence,
you don't know what to say.
You can't really see it
but your world is turning
shades of gray.
No one will find you,
you'll blend right in.
It won't be too long
until there's no telling where
you've been.

You're trying to fly
but you're standing down.
You're playing it safe,
but you're still stuck
on the ground.
Dare to dream now
and maybe you can still
fly away.

Sunday, November 2, 2008

I'll Find You

Watery child
you open your eyes
and see yourself sitting
alone on the cold ground.
Waiting.

Lost in the night,
you cry out for someone
to find you.
I would have found you.

But something inside of you
is dying.
You're wasting away
all alone.

Hope slips away
as your tears hit the ground.
Waiting to hear
the faintest of sounds
leaves you empty.

But you don't give up yet,
you wait for me still.
But you know,
the last moments you have,
are the moments that kill.

Friday, October 31, 2008

Cry for Me

She cries for help,
but no one answers her call.
Faces blur before her,
until she's nothing at all.

And her hope will fade,
just like her smile.
Her happiness disappears,
but only for a while.

And the sun sets
on another painful day.
All hopes that vanished,
had never truly
found their way.

Yet the days
keep her cold with fear.
In the nights,
she cringes with shame.

Maybe each day
there will be someone there for her,
whomever they may be.
Maybe one day,
she will stand tall
and finally be free.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Sprawling

We were sprawling, baby.
We were sprawling out in our dreams.
We were sprawling and you were there too,
Do you remember me?

There was something I just couldn’t think of.
It was sort of like the past.
And it had this feeling that everything was falling,
It had this feeling that we weren’t going back.
But maybe in another life we were sprawling,
Won’t it please come back to me?

We were sprawling, baby.
We were sprawling out in our dreams.
We were sprawling and you were there too,
Do you care to help me?

There was this pretty little girl that I was sitting next to,
She was really kind of quiet.
But we gave her the life, and she took it with a flying heart.
She’ll follow you to the ends of the earth.
And we were sitting outside, and we only really sprawling.
No one can remember back.
But the times that we shared, were really kind of beautiful,
The times that was shared no one’s going back.

We were sprawling, baby.
We were sprawling out in our dreams.
We were sprawling and you were there too,
Did you find some help in me?

There were summer nights we were only out lying.
Summer nights when the love was good,
But we took it apart and ended up sprawling on the hood.
There was a pretty boy who kept coming close to me,
He was my life and my reasons.
But he is something that I don’t really know anymore.
He was something all too good.
And the days we were sprawling are left so far behind,
And we’re not really tough anymore.
But baby can’t you see my mind?

But we were sprawling, baby.
We were sprawling out in our dreams.
We were sprawling and you were there too,
You’re still sprawling right beside me.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Sunday evening

I HATE IT!

I hate it that you're autistic.

I hate it that you say things I know you don't mean but that still hurt some part of me only revealed by our argument.

I hate that I feel as though I kept the argument going unnecessarily.

I hate that you don't listen to me.

I hate that you only think about yourself.

I hate it that you can never be "normal" around people.
I hate that I feel embarrassed when you act autistic.
I hate it when people act condescending toward you.

I hate it when people say "retarded".
I hate that you have a 75% chance of being retarded in the real sense of the word.

I hate how guilty I feel for arguing with you.
I hate that I'm still crying.

I hate that I'm writing a sappy list poem.
I hate it that it's coming across badly.

I hate how awkward the both of us are.

I hate that nobody from a "typical" family/background understands what it's like to live with an autistic person.
I hate that people don't understand that it's not a mental illness.

I hate your music.

I hate your autistic tendencies- your talking to yourself, your perseverances, your "stims".

I hate that autism has become an integral part of my life.

I hate that I just used the word integral.
I hate that I don't fully know what it means.

I hate my English teacher.

I hate that we're expected to know so much that we can't use.

I hate stupid people.

I hate that I can't watch Madtv for at least a week after one of your parties.

I hate it when people act like they know everything.
I hate that I might come across that way sometimes.

I hate that everyone expects something from me.

I hate busywork.

I hate that you cried too.

I hate that I cried mainly because I thought you would turn it down.
I hate that I cried afterward because I was offended by something you said which you didn't mean.

I hate it that some people are going to judge me or feel sorry for me when they read this.
I hate that this might come across as stereotypical.
I hate that I constantly have to worry about being judged.
I hate that I think about that stuff.

I hate that I only have three hours now.

I hate worthless comments.

I hate people and things that waste time.
I hate that I waste a lot of time.

I hate it when people are better than me.

I hate it that I'm worried about the stupid little things.

I hate it that I want to swear right now.

I hate it that I'm going to start crying again.

I hate people who ask stupid or embarrassing questions.

I hate my empathy sometimes.

I'm sorry.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Non- Lesbianism Broccoli

Who cares?
Emma cares!
We fall off chairs
and up flights of stairs
we patch up each others boo boos
We're like band aids to each other
We feed each other bon bons
WERE NOT GAY!
no seriously eww.
M-kay smells good
Emma would totally rape M-kay's hair.
Ok done.

Monday, October 20, 2008

Antigone Exploratory Essay Rough Draft 1

The way that our lives have been established, we have right and wrong, good and bad, and as we get older, these black and white lines get smudged in. Not because it is allowed all the time, but because us children, teens and adults begin to question it. Everyone has a little rebellion in themselves. It is shown in Antigone and just society all around us. But I honestly wonder if just because someone is older, declared an authority, does that mean that we should automatically listen or respect them?
Society, in this world, has order, class and a very adaptive generation. There are repeating factors in destructive and successful countries. There are always the latest currencies, a governmental system and different things that everyone either follows or decides not to that makes most of our cultures up. I realize that respect is wanted by most, me included, but do any of us really deserve it? I get that a lot of people want respect, desire it even, but it isn’t always reciprocated. I honestly can say that I don’t give my little siblings near enough respect all the time, and my friends do the same with their families. I haven’t heard of any family that is completely happy, that is completely getting along. It’s not always because it is a bad family, but because respect isn’t a reoccurring thing. But even if it isn’t reoccurring, is it because the disrespected have been disrespectful to someone else? Is it justified when he started it first? Or is it some bad circle, a thing that won’t stop, or really can’t stop until someone admits that they are wrong. It is a required aspect of life, or a demanded one that isn’t always followed? I’m not really sure at the moment, but maybe tying everything into the play Antigone could help.
Antigone, translated by Paul Woodruff and originated by Sophocles, it is an interesting Greek tragedy that causes controversy and questions in the end. Antigone is a strong willed, independent young woman who endures not only the death of her two brothers, but the ruling against one of them, [AV1] while the other is sanctified. She was determined from the start to bury Polyneices, saying
Go on and be the way you choose to be. I/ will bury him. I will have a noble death/ and lie with him, a dear sister with a dear brother./ Call it a crime of reverence, but I must be good to those/ who are below. I will be there longer than with you./ That’s where I will lie. You, keep to your choice:/ Go on insulting what the gods hold dear. [71-77]

Antigone essentially defied Creon, deciding that he was selfish and cruel. And he was very rude and disrespectful. But he felt that only the leaders should be respected; those who were below you were there for a reason. So when Haemon and Antigone both have their turns at trying to fight him, he cut them off without hearing a word. The chorus on the other hand, were very understanding. They understood that everyone had a voice, and that Creon would be smart to listen. If Creon had listened to both his son and future daughter in law, he would’ve still had a family. Because his whole family, both those who would’ve been so and those presently, killed themselves by stabbing or hanging themselves. It really was only because Creon wasn’t ready to be a ruler or to return some respect[AV2] . And if that isn’t a slap in the face, I really don’t know what is.
But the Creon in my life would have to be my father. In every teenager’s life, there is always one person that just bugs them. Usually an adult, they could be the pushy parent, the annoying aunt, or whatever else there could be. My dad is that person that I quarrel with. Not because we are totally different, but because we are exactly the same personality wise. While I do have aspects of my mom, my dad pretty much rules my personality. And while that sounds like it could be good, all we do is clash. About “bed times”, waking up, computer, TV, phone, curfews, and pretty much all that I am interested in. No matter what, we end up yelling. First because he was mad at me, then because I apparently, “am not allowed to raise my voice back at my parents”. Whether it is because of frustration, being mad, or just being completely upset, I have to stay within a level vocal range. I even have to make sure to smile through my work at 9 in the morning when I was planning to sleep. The reason that he is my Creon is because he doesn’t give me nearly enough respect. He considers my opinions maybe suggestions that he doesn’t need to take. But really, if he listened, we could have a lot more of a peaceful home. Now I know that I am not perfect, but neither is he. I have asked earlier on, even though my dad is older, my authority, why does he get to order me around, delegate his work to me and my brother, when I feel he doesn’t deserve it. Sure he is a good father and all that junk, but he isn’t letting me or my brother enjoy our teen years with him. He has always seen more of my mother in me than himself. But he doesn’t listen, and he doesn’t give the rest of my immediate family near enough respect (with the exception of my 6 year old sister, aka his little princess). But that is truly beside the point. He doesn’t put other perspectives into mind. He is stubborn, strong willed, and he won’t change. He doesn’t listen to my immediate family, but somehow he listens to my cousins. They all apparently think he is cool, that he is funny and all this other stuff that I just miss. Maybe he’ll show me someday, but maybe by then I’ll be sick of him. Whatever the case, I still will have to respect and listen to him. That or I’ll have to become a really strong actress.

By looking at the lives represented, I really do realize that respect is necessary. While I don’t always agree with respecting every single person, I guess it is a necessary part of keeping life in order. I’m thinking that I always new that, but almost wish that there was more of it. I mean if everyone got enough respect, our lives would be so much better. So do we need to respect other people? No, but life would be a whole lot nicer if we did.

[AV1]Specify

[AV2]The quote from Haemon/Creon argument pgs 31-34

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

I'm going to die

She's going to die
Her eyelids grow heavy
They have seen too much
The color drains from her face
She can barely catch her breath
Patience is running thin
Growing tired of the shots
Drawing blood
From her deathly pallid skin
The nurse’s school picture smile
The doctor’s nasal voice
“Honey, you’re going to be just fine, ok?”
The suffocating aroma
Of neatly arranged roses
Enveloped in their “Get Better Soon!” wrapping paper
Trapped under these starched sheets
Isolated from everyone
In this dark dismal chamber
Where sunlight doesn’t even stream
Through the dusty, plastic blinds
The visits became shorter and shorter
Until her friends stopped coming all together
How quickly everyone has forgotten
Even her mother
Has become a distant shadow
Weeping endlessly through the nights
Pacing the creaky floorboards
Murmuring to herself
Two weeks later
She’s behind glass windows
Falling apart in a mental hospital
Her daddy
Abandoned them 8 years ago
For his secretary
The phone hasn’t even rung
And she knows it won’t
She stares at the blank wall
Desperately looking for an answer
A reason, a logical explanation
Why, she asks herself? Why?
Am I dying alone in this hell,
With no one for comfort?
What have I done?
Why do you punish me, God?
Someone wake me up from this nightmare
She wants to be that little girl
In the faded photograph
Standing on her nightstand
Holding her parents’ hands
Strolling through the park
Twirling her blond braids
Hugging her Barbie
Carefree, no worries, no pain
She wants her life back
But Death is pulling the final straws
The cancer tumor has become malignant
Her body is growing weaker and weaker
There is no hope
Now all she does,
Is wait for him to come
To wisk her away
Maybe to heaven, if they really is such a thing
The doctor interrupts her thoughts
And sits by her bedside
The nasal voice escalates again
“Darling, how do you feel?”
The bony corpse manages to raise herself from the pillow
Her eyes are watering with the truth
Her voice is grave
“Doctor, you can’t hide from me anymore.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
But the girl can see through sweet innocence
Because she knows she can’t escape anymore
“I’m sure you have known for quite a while, doctor.”
Her bruised eyes gaze at her despondently
“I’m going to die.”

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Opposites Collide

I say I’m the sun that makes you shine,
I’m the one that makes you cry.

I’ll be there through thick and thin,
I’m the friend you’ll have within.

I need you by my side,
People say opposites attract I think we collide.

I’m going crazy figuring out what to do,
I’m only good and polished when I’m with you.

My heart tells me one thing my brain says the same,
But, my guilty conscience is holding me back, I know so lame.

I wish I never asked that day,
When what you told me nearly blew me away.

Now were gone and done,
I guess you could say that you’ve won.

Because I’ve for sure have lost,
Me in tears and sorrow is what it cost.

My Final Act

I was on my way home towards Bridgeport. Nature’s Classroom was wonderful. But you can only have so much fun outdoors in a true forest. Even though building shelters out of branches and cooking homemade honey buns over a campfire was fun, but without him being there caused me worry. I’d always think about him, wondering if he was thinking of me. I’d be scolding myself for not kissing him goodbye like I promised myself I would. It’s been two days since I’ve seen him. The bus is shaking. I’ve talked about him to my best friend Emma so much. I bet she’s about ready to strangle me if I mention him again. I kept wondering would he be there waiting or stay home like he told Emma.

I’m getting dizzy just thinking about seeing him again. The thought of him brings butterflies to my stomach and it’s like a light shines from within. We got off the bus my body is anxious to go inside the school. I walk down the familiar hallway towards my homeroom. I step inside the empty room and lay my duffel bag on the floor.

I walk towards his homeroom to see if he’s there. The room is completely empty except for the Language Arts teacher. Suddenly out in the hallway my friend Victoria comes out from the eighth grade classroom. I run at her and tackle her with a hug. She wasn’t able to come with us because of her leg injury. I smile at her and ask, “Is he here?”

“Who?” she asks with a wide grin on her face “Oh, you’re boyfriend? Oh, yeah. He’s right here.”

Immediately I jump up and down like a little kid about to get candy. I smile exuberantly and nearly fall over from excitement. Then he comes out of the class. His hair falling just below his ears it’s unnatural color as vibrant as ever. I almost tear up at how handsome he looks.

I smile at him he smiles back. His smile digs deep into my soul making the deepest darkest pits bright with light. Suddenly I notice a swarm of girls around him almost like he’s a rock star and they’re his loving fans. My face emerges with jealousy. All of the girls hold their arms out waiting for hugs they yell unison “We missed you! It was so boring at Nature’s Classroom without you!” I frown knowing they only want to have a guy of his wonderful nature embrace one of them.

No one has missed him as much as I have. I wait for him to hug them so I can give him the best hug of all. But, surprisingly he finds me in the crowd and walks towards me. I’m still dazed he found me because I’m so short. He embraces me with his strong arms and I smile comfortably and want him to hold me till I fall asleep in his safe grasp.

But, seeing the large crowd of girls around us, he lets go and smiles at me. I walk away to go to another classroom so that the sight of him hugging other girls doesn’t let out the little green monster inside me. I waited about five minutes thinking that that’s long enough I walk towards him with my other friend Emma. They’re casually talking. I clutch the duct tape wallet I had made for him at Nature’s Classroom. Our teachers stand right outside their classroom doors like guards to a kingdom. I hand him the wallet and I smile flirtatiously. A sudden idea pops into my head. Then I looked at the teachers and made sure they weren’t looking.

I place my arm on his shoulder at an awkward angle our height differences yet again interfering. Without thinking I, kiss him. My lips confused at what to do I simply plant one on him. I pull away surprised at what I’ve just had the courage to do. I kissed him on the chin; how wonderful. I wasn’t smart enough to go on my tippy toes. I laugh quietly and walk away embarrassed. My classmates around me are probably, staring in awe asking themselves, “Did Mara Kate really just kiss him?” I look back and see his face taken aback, still trying to figure out what happened. I walk down the hallway with my duffel bag towards the exit I’m ready to go.

I’ve said my proper goodbyes.

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Back

Somehow
You knew that I was there.
Covered by darkness,
it was you who rescued me.

Everyone searched for me,
but you found me
where no one else looked.
It's because of you
I can breathe.

And you sat beside me
that warm Autumn night.
You held me
for the first time.
And my hope returned
once more.

You never stopped believing.
Neither did I.
Finally
you came back for me,
and put your hands in mine.

Monday, September 29, 2008

Going Nowhere

There's so much I could say
But what do you care to hear?
It's not as if you want to know.
Shall I shatter that porcelain veneer?

No, I wouldn't do that to you,
No matter how much I would enjoy it....

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Me Talk Pretty One Day

I wrote this for my school paper's entertainment section, and I would appreciate some opinions/constructive criticism :)

Me Talk Pretty One Day

By David Sedaris

Reviewed by Olivia Manno



Almost every teenager has experienced an embarrassing situation at one point during their life. Whether it be their ignominious parents, with the outdated looks they sport and the cringeworthy phrases that escape their mouths, usually in a lamentable attempt to fit in with their child and his/her generation, or the day at lunch when a teenager loses their footing on the packet of mayonnaise that had been on the cafeteria floor, these things usually cause unbearable humiliation. However, any individual who has ever experienced such a dilemma has been completely outdone by the droll, lovable David Sedaris. The renowned author of a number of memoirs, one of his most accomplished, entitled "Me Talk Pretty One Day", is filled with side-splitting essays, reminiscing about much of Sedaris's unusual childhood, years in various colleges, ridiculous experiments with a number of illegal substances, and adventures in Paris, France. Dry is an understatement for his unique sense of humor. "Me Talk Pretty One Day" displays Sedaris's true talent of voice. The book would be very enjoyable without his humorous touches, but when garnished with the correct adjectives, Sedaris's "half empty" outlook, with a heavy dash of sarcasm, is completely contagious. 

The book itself has an easy, flowing format, with many essays arranged into chronological order. One who hasn't read Sedaris's writing may pick up a copy, thinking that the majority of these works have some significance in the author's life, but when reading, the person will realize that the pieces are of no importance whatsoever. Sedaris seemed to collect random memories that stuck out in his mind and connect them somehow. The opening essay, entitled "Go Carolina," is completely farcical, the first sentence enticing the reader from the start. Sedaris recalls the moment he was confronted about his prominent lisp by a woman whom he had mistaken for a detective. She asked whether he preferred State or Carolina, two of the major football teams at the time. Sedaris had thought it was a trap, and chose State, his lisp making an appearance. The book continues on with many unbelievable tales, including a period of Sedaris's life when he struggled with drug addiction and the pathetic salary of a freelance artist. 

As his life becomes more stable, Sedaris begins to experience more ordinary, yet equally funny incidents. The second half of "Me Talk Pretty One Day" includes many of these happenings, and focuses mostly on Sedaris's big move to France, as well as certain things prior to the event. He had enrolled in a French class, and the essay, "Me Talk Pretty One Day," was the inspiration for the title of the book. Sedaris experienced a rude, blunt teacher ("'I hate you,' she said to me one afternoon. Her English was flawless. "I really, really hate you." Call me sensitive, but I really couldn't help but take it personally.") as well as many unenthusiastic classmates. Sedaris experienced various highs and lows during the class, but the outcome contributed to possibly one of the most entertaining pieces in the collection. 

Writing comedy is not necessarily a talent that develops over time. If one is lucky enough, they will be blessed with a gift like Sedaris's, whose uproarious childhood and earlier years create brilliant stories. His unmistakeable voice takes the genre to a whole new level, and is guaranteed to please even the most finicky of readers.

Together

There's one hope,
one healing.
Tell me you'll take a chance.
There's one moment,
one life.
Tell me you're ready to live.

There's a chance
for the future,
that keeps us holding on.
And the flickering hope
will burn stronger
now that we stand together.

They say
change is constant,
but we'll always make it through.
Just promise
you'll stay with me,
and I'll stay with you.

Saturday, September 20, 2008

Remember

Believe
I'll be there for you.
Through all the misery,
I'll be there.
And remember me
through the days that pass.

Remember the time
we spent together.
The bronze of Autumn,
the white of Winter.
And how we almost
made it through,
past the scarlet of Spring.

And remember each day
we had shared.
Our first smile,
our first laugh.
The first tear
that slid down my cheek.
And the first heartbreak
that separated us.

But don't give up
the memories we keep.
The pull we each felt
every day, every night.
The pull that sent us spiraling
back to thoughts of each other.

Remember me through it all,
I'll always remember you.
Every minute of every moment.
Every day of each season.
And every second of every feeling
I ever felt for you.

Moment

I waited for him,
And prayed he'd come back.
But my door stayed shut
and the slit the corner
of my heart deepened.

And I can feel him.
His arm around me,
my hand in his.
I needed him beside me,
but he left
unwillingly.

Yet time still passes,
though each day is longer.
But I'll never forget him,
for each moment spent beside him,
was a moment to remember.

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Notes to Self

Okay, focus.
Start right, feet together, eyes open.
Ignore the hundreds in the background.
Ignore the slanting rain.
Focus.
Only look at those three gloved pairs of hands.
Only look at the identically dressed people around you.
Concentrate.
Don't mess this part up. They're counting on you for this one.
LEFT right, LEFT right...
Please please don't close that space--
Don't look at him messing up. There's nothing you can fix now.
Don't say a word, even though you want to.
Ignore the guy talking into the tape recorder.
Posture!
Focus, concentrate on this move, concentrate on not getting hit--
Success.
--nine ten eleven twelve MOVE.
...two two three four five six HALT.
Breathe. Breathe.
IN out IN out IN out.
Don't move. Don't flinch. Don't fix it. Stay absolutely still.
Breathe.
The rain is getting harder. Ignore it.
Ignore the sleeves sticking to your forearms.
Left right, left right...
Ignore the one drop on your cheek.
Use your eyes. Don't trust your ears.
Make a beautiful sound... one beautiful sound... make it golden...
Resonate.
Don't rush.
Bigger steps-- watch him in front of you.
Closer, closer...
Watch her toss it, soaked to the point of unrecognition...
Watch her grimace up into the darkness and the rain...
Watch and hope to death she catches it...
YES!
Success.
Onto the next move...
ONE two three TWO two three THREE two three TURN two three!
Remember everything we fixed today.
Remember to keep watching.
Remember.
Focus.
Concentrate.
STOP.
Breathe: IN out IN out IN out
Up two three BREATHE!
Count! Always count!
Don'tcrashdon'tcrashDON'TCRASH--!
Good.
Small steps small steps...
Hope he remembers the change...
The rain is pouring harder. You're not supposed to notice.
Focus, focus...
LEFT right LEFT right
Soft, louder louderlouderLOUDERLOUDERSTOP!
Down.
Breathe.
IN out IN out IN out IN out...

Friday, September 12, 2008

Hold On

You're holding,
clutching
the ledge for dear life.
Praying that
there's a chance for you.

And you hope
your hands will stay steady,
that they won't slip.
And you won't fall
far past my reach.

And I feel you
through the spaces
in my heart.
Hiding
In the corners of my mind.
Come out,
come out
wherever you are.

They Will Come Together

He lies on the floor and he says why?
He lies on the floor when his girlfriend cries.
When the mamas don’t come home and the daddies go to work early.
He lies on the floor and he tries to think,
And she says why?

She says why?
Why do you leave when the times get heavy?
Why am I always on my own?
And she gets down and she prays to the God she tries to trust.
And what does he say?
He says nothing.

He says nothing?
Nothing when all he can do is watch,
Watch as the world of a friend seems to fall apart.
No way to look for help and no one to go to.
And he watches and wants to go back,
Back to the innocence he once knew.
And then they’ll join.

They join,
And the world comes together and all the pain is undone.
They love, and in a heartbeat they feel wanted.
So there’s peace and all it took was a word.
One word, and you can take it all back.
HELP!

Help, and that they do.
Love, and then they think.
Trust, and there will be love.
Peace, and the world will live on.

Friday, September 5, 2008

Info on Henry's Batman

alot of people have been comenting on the book im working on. the edited copy can be found at: http://storyofashley.blogspot.com/

Thursday, September 4, 2008

Masked

I told you I would always be there
for you.
When your blue eyes
sparkled,
I was there.
And when your blue eyes
turned gray,
I waited for you still,
but you left me.
You abandoned me.

I am alone.
You left me here,
just like everyone else.
And you disappeared,
just like everyone else.

I miss you already.
Wherever you really are,
Just let me know
When you decide
to come back for me.
And please,
come as you were.

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Wait For Me

I wait for you
in the cold night
by the empty window.
When no one can hear me,
when no one will listen.

I can hear you coming
up the stairs to the door.
Your billowy breaths
echoing against my heart.
You've emptied my heart.

All night, every night,
I pray that you are there
to wake me when I dream
of you and only you,
my head resting on the glass,
clothes stained with thoughts of you.

But until then,
my tears keep falling
down the window panes
where I once saw you.
where you once disappeared
into darkness.

Sunday, August 31, 2008

Choices

I lay here
A broken body full of pain
Because of you my heart was renched apart
Why did you have to leave me
I know you probably had no choice
But everyone has a choice
You could have stayed
Put up with me for just a little longer
So as not to tear me in half
But no you had to go
You didn't even tell me why you left
You just said goodbye and walked away
You probably fell for another girl
One prettier and less obnoxious as me
So you left me lying here
A broken body full of pain

Saturday, August 30, 2008

Locked Up

If only you knew
The feelings I have for you
Then maybe you could tell me
That you love me too
Yet I shy away from all my feelings
And keep them locked up in a safe
I throw away the key
In a place where no one can find it
Not even me
Yet when I see you
These feelings come surfacing back
And it's hard to keep them buried deep
I want to say how much I care
Yet I'm to afraid to be rejected
Because then I'd feel so insecure
But oh, how these feelings rule my heart
And I can't decide what to do
I know so much yet so little about you
But I know enough that I want you to be mine
So I wait and wait for you to say something first
Yet you don't
I guess I'll just have to keep waiting

My Love For You

Droplets of rain falling down
Mixing with my tears
Tears caused by you
You left though I know you had no choice
You walked out of my life
Yet you're still in my heart
The image of you
Keeps fading
The only way to sharpen it
Is to see you again
That won't happen for a while
That I am sure of
What I am not sure of
Is what I am feeling
I'm not sure if I am sad or happy
Sad because my time with you has come to an end
Or happy because I will see you again
Even if it won't be for a while
These feelings tumble around inside me
Fighting for space
Which one will win
I am not sure
Whichever one wins though
Won't totally rule my heart
Because there is an even bigger feeling
Rooted deep down in my heart
It won't move over for anything
This feeling will rule my heart for as long as I stand before you
And that feeling
Is love

Broken

You left me standing in the rain
A broken heart full of pain
I wondered if you'd ever come back
Or if my waiting was for nothing
My hopes and dreams were shattered that day
My hopes for the future and my dreams for today
Your dazzeling smile stabed right at my soul
And your brilliant blue eyes seemed brighter than gold
My heart was filled to burst
So you'd be able to do your worst
By leaving me you cut me open
A cut that left me sad and broken
Until you come back I can not heal
I'll be at a place where theres nothing I can't feel
I'll feel sadness and pain
And sorrow and hurt
But the biggest thing I'll feel
Is my love for you
That feeling will leave me dead and crippled
Until you come back to put me back together
It might take days or it might take years
But I'll wait for you
That's all a broken heart can do

Do You Need Me

I see him standing there
The handsome prince in my dreams
Yet he's not a prince at all
Just a normal person
Who walked into my life
But to me he's more than that
He's more than the deep blue pools
That are his eyes
More than his ruffled hair
And brilliant smile
That makes the sun look like it's just
A faint glowing sphere
He is a part of me
Something that I can't live without
Like a vital organ
That can keep me alive
Without him I am nothing
Just a lone shadow
Following the path of life
Yet I don't know if he needs me
Or if I'm just a nuisence
Who gets in the way
I don't know what to think
I know what I want to think
But it might not be true
So why should I keep hoping
I keep hoping because hope is a light in the darkness
And it keeps away the fear
That threatens to overwhlelm me
When all hope is lost
So I need you desperatly as you can see
But the question is
Do you need me

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Fading

As you walked out the door,
you took a piece of me.
Under your blue eyes
I'm disappearing.

And I'm slowly fading away.
Trying just to stay
a moment longer.
All I need
Is you next to me again.

And you're not trying
to hold onto me,
just a little bit longer.
And I'm dying inside.
I can't see you
anymore.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Too Late

The innocence was there
in your eyes.
The mask you wore
was one of maturity,
of wisdom and experience.
That wasn't you.

And your hands,
bronze from the setting sun.
They slid down the warm hood
of the car you sat upon.
You tried so hard to relax.
But you feared the future,
as did I.

I found your hands
reach for mine.
And the comfort
from your warm brown eyes.
I was safe with you
underneath the melting sky.

And the willow above us
outstretched its arms,
and cradled us
as she began to weep.
For time was running out,
and we were long past gone.

Friday, August 22, 2008

You Left Me

You left that morning,
your soft steps
echoing through the house.

As you pulled your jacket on,
you tried to stop
the rough fabric from waking us.

Behind the wall
I was there.
But you didn't see me
like I saw you.

You didn't know I was there,
watching you as you
slept,
stepped,
ran
away from us.

I knew it would happen,
I could have stopped you.
But you were happy,
for once, you were happy
I could tell.

Halfway up the hill,
you smiled
as you looked back at our house.
I couldn't stop you
if you needed to go.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Summer Memories

Why did you have to walk into my life
That eventful summer day
You with your perfect smile
That twinkle in your eyes
Why did you have to tease me
In that annoying but lovely way
Your perfect laugh would hang in the air
Or was it just my imagination
Everyone seemed to notice
That something was up between us
Something like true love
Or at least I wanted to believe
If you never walked into my life
Iwouldn't have fallen madly in love
And maybe today I wouldn't still be in love with a guy
With a perfect laugh
Twinkling eyes
And a smile that would send shivers down my spine
Whenever I laid eyes on it

A Whole Year Away

Those days with you are always the best of days

Days when I can forget my troubles, if only for a while

Those days with you are filled with love and laughter

And tennis, don't forget tennis

We meet at the courts at nine AM

And have the time of our lives

Teasing each other in a friendly way

But never wanting to admit to the other

The fellings that we share

But alas it can not last

For you live a whole world away

So one week with you is all I have

Until the lazy days of summer come back

A whole year away

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Innocence

You said
'There's a path you need to choose.
One way or another,
you'll make it through.
But don't forget
I'm here if you need me.

'And the path your on
may throw you off course.
But I need you to hold on tight.
So just put up a fight,
just like I taught you to.'

And I agreed but so solemnly.
I knew I was different than I used to be.
But I knew the words were true,
And I believed in you.

But then I came to a crossroad
so where could I go?
My heart said yes
but my head said no.
So what could I do?
I looked for you.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Alone

You still linger in my dreams.
I am waiting for you
to come back to me.

I believed in you.
I had faith in you.
Until this day
I was right by your side,
Always.

But now I am alone.
Alone in this world
trying to find you.
You left me here.

Now I wait.
I wait until I need you
to help me,
to carry me back home,
back to where it all began.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Now or Never

So you try to tell me
things are going to change.
But do you mean it?

Can you really say
I'm going to stay the same?
I can't wait for you
forever.

It's not as if
you left me
and took my heart with you.
It's not as if
I can love you
after all you've put me through.

So how can you say
you'll always love me?
And we'll always have a chance?
I keep asking myself
if it's right
to leave while I can.

Thursday, August 7, 2008

Henry's Batman

Chapter 4: Killing in Gotham City

Tuesday was uneventful. Wake up, listen to Tony and Leslie fight, go to class, see Natalie, go home, eat, and read Batman. And that was about it. Then Wednesday came and I had to tutor Kevin again. I didn’t really want to see Kevin, the boy in the Batman costume, and try to suppress the pity I felt for him. I was jealous of him for being able to show how much he loved Batman where as I always felt I had to hide it.
I was sitting in English and Mrs. Cobalt had just asked the class if anyone knew anything about The Odyssey. I personally had read it when I was in fifth grade because I had been interested in Greek mythology, it wasn’t a bad book. Mrs. Cobalt waited, she was getting anxious.
“Anyone? Anyone know anything at all?” She was asking. I raised my hand slowly. She looked at me, almost in disbelief. “You better not be asking to go to the bathroom.” She said when she called on me.
“Umm… no… The Odyssey is about an epic battle where Odysseus, the main character, is lost at sea and trying to get home but he keeps running into all these obstacles, and then when he finally gets home he has to fight off all these suitors who want to marry his wife, and wins.” I said slowly but surely. Mrs. Cobalt just stared at me in disbelief for a few seconds, amazed that I’d answered the question correctly.
“That’s exactly right Henry. Yes Odysseus is fighting to get home after the Trojan War, and then has to fight off a group of men who want to marry his wife, with the help of his son.” She says summarizing what I had just said. The bell rang then and everyone got up to leave and started filing out the door.
“Good job today Henry.” Mrs. Cobalt said as she walked by my desk as I packed up. I don’t answer just finish packing up and got out of the class as quickly as possible. I didn’t see Natalie in the hallway outside of her room and that depressed me. I liked seeing her during the day, she was always bright and happy and surrounded by a bunch of friends not noticing me. I wished for once she would notice me, or say hi to me, or just look in my direction, but she never did.
I thought about how well I’d done in Mrs. Cobalt’s class today and how she’d complimented me. “Maybe she didn’t hate me, maybe she’d just giving up on me. I knew I was smart, I always had been. Just a lot of the time I just didn’t care enough to do the work. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life which made me care about school even less. Who knew, maybe this whole tutoring thing would help me.” But then I stopped and wanted to kick myself. “What was I thinking?! I was acting like a suck up little girl. Tutoring some annoying little kid wasn’t changing me at all apart from maybe making me more of a baby.”
By the end of the day I was worn out. I hadn’t seen Natalie all day, she hadn’t been in any of her classes, and I had to keep trying to work hard and pay attention in all of my classes. And now I had to go be a teacher, the last thing I wanted to be, for a nine-year-old kid who probably didn’t even care if I helped him in school or not. I went home quickly with Tony and Leslie just to drop off my books, get my bike, and say hi to my mother and then left trying not to be too early to the tutoring session. I peddled up to the brick library about five minutes early like I had the Sunday before. I got off my bike and chained it up to the bike rack, feeling the rapidity of it. And then I walked sluggishly into the air conditioned, quieter than real life lobby of the library. I walked in past the shelves of children’s books and over to the table where I’d sat the time before. To my surprise Kevin was already sitting at the table, this time with out the Batman costume. He was dressed similarly to me, worn out sneakers, blue jeans, and a Batman tee shirt. I envied the tee shirt too and wanted one like it.
“Why are you here so early?” I asked protectively of the little boy.
“My dad said that he wouldn’t drive me. So I had to walk here from school.” The kid seemed so tiny, and he must have been small for his age, but at that point there was something about him that seemed extra small, maybe just in the way he had said the statement. The school was about ¾ of a mile away and it must have been a long walk for him. I couldn’t believe the boy’s menace of a father wouldn’t even drive his own son to a tutoring session so he could learn!
“Oh.” I replied trying not to let on that I cared. “Well we should get started. You remember where we left off last week, right?”
“Yah, they went to that old ladies house that they thought was the witch and she talked about the melancholy.” And his face seemed to lighten up a bit. And I was surprised that de didn’t even persist about not wanting to work. Maybe I really had gotten to him last time about working and how Batman would do it too if he had to.
“Right, so why don’t we start from there and maybe you could do some of the worksheets today.” I placed the book open in front of him and had him read it out loud to me again. And again he read it very well. I stopped him about 30 pages from the end and said that that part was for next time. Then I had him start working on all the many worksheets he hadn’t done, with questions about the book. At first he persisted. Asking why he couldn’t just read Batman, and how he’d thought that if he did so well on the stupid dog book he could read Batman, and how unfair it was. I tried to console him, saying that he really did have to read the book and do the worksheets. He complained and finally I gave in. We only had about 10 minutes left and I decided to end it early.
“That’s enough for today.” I said after 10 minutes of his complaining about how unfair it was. “Is your dad coming to get you?” I asked him, knowing the answer was probably no.
“No.” He said and he looked small again and I wanted to put my arms around him and comfort him but wouldn’t dare do that. “He says that it’s my fault that I didn’t do the work in school so he shouldn’t have to waste his time on me.” I wanted to cry. What an awful man his father was. I was glad my father wasn’t like that, and that every chance he got he came home to be with his family that he loved. I debated whether of not I should walk him home. I decided that he’d be fine and started leaving with a quick “ok bye”. I was half way out the door when my conscience got a hold of me and I turned around and walked back over to the table and said, “Ok come on, I’ll walk you home.
I wheeled my bike along side of me as he walked on the sidewalk oh the street.
“What’s your family like?” Asked the little boy suddenly; I thought of not responding but decided that I probably should.
“Well, I have a brother, his name is Tony. And I have an adopted sister, her name is Leslie. And then you’ve got my mom who’s really nice, and my dad who’s in New York for work a lot but always tries to come home.” I hoped this wouldn’t make him feel bad since his dad was so awful to him. “What about you?” I asked because I really did want to know.
“It’s just me and my dad.” He said almost sadly. I was shocked, I felt really bad and didn’t want to ask him to continue but he did anyway. “My mom was killed eight months ago. She was trying to stop a mugging. I think that’s why my dad hates me so much, I remind him of her too much.” I wanted to cry. How could this poor little boy be so awfully jaded to the world because of one awful man? “He’s putting me up for foster care. He hates me.” Kevin finished. He seemed smaller then ever when he said this and I just wanted to drop to my knees and comfort him like you do when a little kid falls down.
“No, he probably doesn’t hate you. He’s probably just sad.” I say trying to comfort him. By then we’d reached Kevin’s house and had turned into the driveway. He turned around to look at me with his sad little eyes and his Batman tee shirt.
“No Henry, he hates me.” He said in the smallest, saddest little voice ever and then he turned back around and walked into the house with out another world. I was about to cry. The tears were starting to fill my eyes so suddenly and I was trying so hard to push them away, but they wouldn’t leave. I couldn’t believe that poor, cute, little, Batman loving kid had to go through that every day of his life. I felt awful. I just wanted to go home and tell my mother about the whole story but I knew that I couldn’t because it wasn’t my business, and it wasn’t my place. But I wanted to help him. I had to make this tutoring thing last, I had to connect with him. I had to tell him about Batman. I sighed, this was my biggest secret in the world and I was telling it to a nine-year-old.
I looked back at the house; it was small and brown and seemed to be falling apart. It had little white shutters that were partially falling off their hinges and a stone wall with weeds poking out of small holes. I sighed again and turned around, feeling bad for the kid. I had to find some way to help him, make him happier, give him a family, give him a chance, and give him a life.

Monday, August 4, 2008

Don't Call on Me

I'm in the town's public library right now, watching a frustrated young boy stumble over words while reading a book aloud to his tutor. This poor kid is trying so hard, so I felt like I should write about him.


Don't Call on Me

We all know the feeling of embarrassment, the hot sweat that surfaces on our face as we are called upon, without an answer or an idea of what to say, but for you, these obstacles are the least of your worries. You can speak fluently, because the words in your mind aren't on print, but when faced with a page of text, you tongue flaps around mindlessly, with fragments of sentences occasionally escaping your mouth. Every day must be a secret struggle for you, anxiously crouched in the back of the classroom, the textbook open but the words meaningless, printed on the glossy paper, longing for your name to slip the teacher's mind, so your private challenges won't be revealed to your unforgiving classmates. I can't say that we know how you feel.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

People of Massachusetts

Author's Note: I'm currently in Massachusetts, staying with my aunt and uncle for a few days, and an activity here that I've decided to try is to sit in Starbucks, observe the people of the town East Longmeadow, and create identities for the people surrounding me by writing six to ten sentence short stories and random poems/analyzations. How fun does that sound?!

Untitled (I should just call this boredom.)

I spy you walking and notice that emotions are seldom present on your drained face. Your wife, glowing and perky, carries your daughter, her thick hair blanketing a porcelain face. You grasp the door handle and make your way in, glancing around, scanning the customers. I watch you as your expression hardens, your eyes widen, and your mouth begins to part. Your wife's liveliness begins to fade, as she notices the sparks between you and the quiet woman in the corner. "Honey," she whispers, "do you know her?" I know your answer, and silently urge you not to throw your life away with the words forming on your lips. "Yeah," you say, "I do." You approach her and your eyes meet first, then your hands. She stands up as you cast a look to your former love. "People change," you say, and with that, you walk out the door, her fingers tangled in yours.



I'll write something else tomorrow, but for know, I need to entertain myself. :)



Saturday, July 26, 2008

Wistful Thinking

I wish that just once
I could see him again
as the memories of him
fade.
I wish I could
feel his presence,
feel the warmth
that radiates from his body
when it touches
mine.
Wishing and hoping,
every night at 11:11;
wishing and hoping
for something I know will
never happen.
I pray for his comfort,
for the tingling sensation that I get
from just being around him.
I yearn for him to touch me,
even just to brush my hair away;
yet in the back of mind,
I know it’s wistful thinking.
But despite the cloud of rejection
hovering over me,
I press on,
knowing all the while
he’ll never love me
like I love him.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Manatees

What if we were manatees?
Swimming around the yellow-blue sea
And the world was right for us to just swim and just BE,
What if we were manatees?

What if we were manatees?
Grazing on underwater banana trees
With no worries or cares it’s just you and me,
Won’t you come and swim and just be we?

But life’s not that easy for us manatees,
Swimming around in the yellow-blue sea
There are aquatic bears and tigers that just won’t leave us be,
They won’t let us swim in the yellow-blue sea.

They keep us and danger and won’t leave us be,
We can’t even go to the underwater marquis,
Or lounge in a hammock beneath the banana tree.
They police the waters and won’t let us be.

What if the life of a manatee,
Was happy and blissful and all worry-free
Then we could just swim in the yellow- blue sea
And it could be just me and you for eternity.

What if the sea creatures could all agree?
The tigers and bears and the blue manatee?
And we could all frolic in the yellow- blue sea
And all live together in blissful harmony.

But alas it’s not that easy for the manatees
Swimming around in the yellow-blue sea
Because in this place we call life really nothing is free
And there are no places where we manatees can just BE.

What if we were just manatees?
And the world did not affect you and did not affect me
And the world was right for us to just swim and just BE,
Won’t you come and swim and just be we?

questions not to be answered

· Why can’t we say what is on our mind sometimes?
· Why is it so hard to tell someone how you really feel?
· Why is it so hard to trust someone?
· Why is it that other people can’t be trusted?
· Why do you give me a reason not to trust you?
· Why do we say things to hurt other people?
· Why must we put others down to make ourselves feel good?
· Why is it that we doubt other people?
· Why do we hold on to grudges?
· Why do we hate each other?
· Why do we judge others by how they look?
· Why can’t I be trusted to make my own decisions?
· Why do girls turn to guys for what they don’t have at home?
· Why is it that most fathers don’t give their teenage girls the attention that they need?
· Why do I have to listen to you?
· Why do most of us have to raise ourselves?
· Who do most people turn their backs on us?
· Why do I have to be what you want me to be?
· Why must we lie to cover up something we did?
· Why must we choose between two things we love?
· Why do we doubt ourselves?
· Why must we be insecure?
· Why is it so hard for us to tell the truth about who we really are?
· Why do we choose to do wrong?

the love of the bear

You are the sun the moon
And the stars to me.
But when you act the way you do
It gets to me
You want me to just drop everything and come running
You think that it is because I don’t want to but I can’t
Why can’t you understand that I can’t be what you want me to be?
Tired of you acting the way you do because
I’m not there for you all the time
What kind of love is this
Is the question I am asking.
Why do you make me feel this way,
Like I don’t care about you
Like I don’t want to be with you
Why do you doubt my love for you?
Why do you make me feel guilty for something that I didn’t do?
You make me want to cry
The things you say
The things you do
Drive me insaneI don’t know how much more of this
I can take
Sometimes when you pretend you don’t want me
I just want to leave you on the spot and end it once and for all
But there is something that keeps me staying here for some reason
maybe it’s because I have no choice but to stay
Is this something good or bad?
Do you expect me to not be mad?
Do you expect me to just be like ok you’ll get over it and soon everything will be ok again?
Do you think that I will always be here to put up with you?
Do you always expect me to welcome you back after all you did to me?
Why can’t you understand that I enjoy being with you?
The only one I love
I don’t know how much clearer I can make it
If you can’t see that I am and always will be here for you
I don’t think you deserve me.

James Menson

I first met James the day of my cousin’s college graduation. In case you’re wondering, during a college graduation they have long boring speeches, and then they call the name of each person in the graduating class. There are normally about seven hundred people. If you’ve never heard seven hundred people being called up to receive a diploma, then just so you know, it takes a while. The list goes in alphabetical order of the last name. My cousin’s name is Jae Ab. She was the first one to receive her diploma. I wasn’t too psyched to wait a few hours to congratulate my cousin.
Instead of waiting for all the other names to be called, my parents let me walk home so long as I promised to be back in an hour and a half. I wanted to finish putting up the new hammock for my bedroom. (I use a hammock as a bed for a few reasons: a) you don’t have to make your bed, b) it takes up a lot less space, c) it’s actually pretty comfortable.) My room was pretty small, but I thought it was awesome. I had shelves on the walls all over the room for my books. (I was a huge fan of fantasy and adventure books.) Some of the shelves were used for all my collections. I collect glass bottles, corks, golf balls I found on the beach, junk, and little figurines of army guys. The remaining wall space was covered in posters for the Red Sox, Harry Potter, and other posters with themes that interest me, such as Greek mythology. In one corner I had a huge bean bag chair with my laptop on it. In the opposite corner all my sports stuff was piled. I play soccer, lacrosse, hockey, and basketball. It sounds pretty busy, but I don’t take anything over the summer seriously; if I want to play a sport, I go out and fool around. I also only play two sports a season. It’s pretty busy, but not overwhelming. The rest of the free space is taken up by my survival gear. I love going on camping and hiking trips. I have a great supply of stuff. But back to the point, my room’s pretty crowded, and a hammock is much easier to have instead of an entire bed.
On my way home, I took my usual shortcut through the woods. The woods came out behind an orphanage, and once I reached the sidewalk in front of the orphanage, I simply had to walk a few blocks to my house. I normally tried different routes to get home through the woods each time I went, but today I used a route I had gone through for years. About a third of the way in, my head banged into something. I stopped thinking about the parachute-like material in my new hammock. From my position on the ground I couldn’t see what I had banged into. I reached upwards, not wanting to slam my head again. I made to grab a vine to pull myself up. Instead of the vine pulling away from the others easily, like I expected, it didn’t move. I pulled harder. Nothing. I stood up properly and looked at the bunch of vines. They were about five feet above the ground, firmly attached to a low tree branch. I looked closer. It seemed pretty unusual for a clump of vines to be in this square shape, now that I thought of it. Upon closer exploration I found a long rope disguised as a vine hanging from another tree. I saw at once that you could use the rope to swing onto the square of vines which was actually a platform. I also saw that if you didn’t know what they were there for, you’d never guess they were there. They were camouflaged by an expert. Deciding to see what was up there (because people don’t just randomly put a platform up in the middle of a forest); I grabbed the rope, backed up a few paces, ran, and swung up to the platform. It was surprisingly sturdy; very well made. Going up to the next branch was a well camouflaged rope ladder. I climbed up this easily, getting more and more impressed by the handiwork of whoever had built all this. At the top of the ladder there was another platform concealed by vines, and a rope. I could guess what I had to do. I looked around, and noticed another platform hidden by vines in the next tree over, about fifteen feet away. That was pretty far, so instead of leaping towards the tree, I leapt away from it so that I would swing past the place I had jumped from on my way back. After reaching the next landing I saw a rope to shinny up, and a last rope to swing from. By this time I was pretty high up. Each platform had been about ten feet higher than the last. I swung through a curtain of leaves, and gasped. Inside a huge circle of vines and leaves about thirty feet above the ground (very high) was a superb tree house. It had four rooms; a bedroom, kitchen, living room, and a workshop. At the end of my swing I landed on a platform jutting out of the open-air living room. I strode over to the workshop area and stopped by the door, watching the boy inside nail some pieces of wood together. It looked like he was building a chair. The kid was about fourteen with dark brown hair that hadn’t been cut in a while. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, both of which looked like he had been wearing them for a week. He looked up. His eyes were dark, a bluish gray. He scowled at me.
“How’d you find this place?” I told him about crashing into the platform. He scowled more darkly and muttered something about moving the platform higher.
“What is this place?” I asked after a while when it was clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else.
“Where I live,” he grunted. I was getting the message that he wasn’t the friendliest of sorts.
“Why do you live here?” I asked. “Don’t you have anywhere else to live?”
“Nowhere that’s a real option.” He kept working. I checked my watch. I had twenty minutes to get back to the graduation.
“I got to go. I might see you later,” I said.
“Fine. Just don’t tell anyone else that I’m here.” I left the tree house on the rope, noticing as I passed the tiny bedroom that he used a hammock as a bed too.
For the next week, I couldn’t help thinking a lot about the tree house, and the kid who seemed to live there. Why was he living there? Didn’t he have a proper home to go to? And how did that kid learn how to work wood so well? Everything he had built looked like professional carpentry.
The next opportunity I had to go in the woods was a few days later, when my mom was at her part time job as an architect. My dad was her partner, as the head of his carpentry company. They were on a job for some lady who was apparently obsessed with her pet hedgehogs. She wanted an entire building with all the latest hedgehog convenience technology. She obviously had too much money to spend. I didn’t really care that much at the moment though, because it meant my parents were out of the house. After waiting a few minutes to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything, I set off for the tree house.


At the house, the workshop was busy again, this time it looked like the kid was making a table.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi.” It came out as a grunt.
“So what’s your name? I’m Jack.”
“James.”
“So how come you’re living here?” No reply. “Don’t you have any parents? Did you run away?”
“Look. I’m not talking about myself to you. If you want to come here every so often, I can’t stop you, seeing as you know about this place. Anybody would want to come, because it is pretty cool. I understand that.” I heard a faint strain of pride in his voice, even though he was trying to sound offhand. “You can come, but you’ll help out, and you must not tell anybody I live here. That’s really important. Understand?” He fixed me with such a piercing gaze that I nodded right away, without pausing to think about what he was saying. “Good. You can start making a shelf for the other room. You know how to work tools?”
“Sure.” James showed me which tools were, and where the supplies were. I got to work. After working for two hours in silence, I showed him the finished shelf which he examined with professional interest. He pronounced it passable, (because compared to his work, mine was pretty pathetic) and left the room to put it up. I followed him. His room was amazing. He had a bunk bed, but the bottom was a desk covered in booklets on math, science, history, and writing. He had a collection of sports equipment and loads of other amazing stuff. Pocketknives, figurines, books, (including the Harry Potter collection) and tons of great knick-knacks. The hammock I had seen before was by the window next to my new shelf which had all James’ books and figurines on it. It was a great reading nook. The room was brilliant. James finished putting up the shelf and turned around to see me. “I’ll give you this: you are definitely persistent. Not many people would go after me this far to find out my background. I might tell you at some point, but not now, not today. I don’t trust you yet. Come back every so often, and if I decide I can trust you, I might tell you.” I recognized the dismissal. As I left I heard him playing a tune on his harmonica. James was exceptional. He was teaching himself everything.
Over the next few months I kept going to the house. Soon he already had projects ready for me. I learned so much about woodworking that I started projects of my own. His tree house was finished; he had added as many comforts to it that he could think of: screened windows, pictures and writing pieces in frames, everything you could want. We started painting, but after a while James and I were hanging around more than working. He taught me how to play the harmonica, to juggle, unicycle, shooting (we used nerf guns), and sword fighting. James however was careful not to say a word about his past. I didn’t ask, but as the months went by, I couldn’t help wondering more and more. One day four months after that first meeting, I decided to ask. We were working with our wooden swords and shields, but all of a sudden I put down my sword. I blocked his stab with my shield. “Wait. I wanted to ask, have you decided if you can trust me yet?” James sighed. “I guess. I could have earlier, but I just don’t want to talk about my past. I’m having too much fun right now. But I guess I owe that to you. You’ve stuck with me this long.” We put away the swords, and climbed up into our hammocks (I had long since put up my old hammock across from James’.) He lay back and closed his eyes, gathering his thoughts. James took a deep breath, and started.

“My parents are part of the CIA. They can’t tell anyone, so they tell the orphanage that they don’t have enough money to take care of me. They come to visit me every so often at the orphanage. Now, the orphanage is a pretty nice place. In fact, as orphanages go, it’s pretty great. My parents are great too. I understand that I can’t live with them if they’re going on missions all the time. I mean, it would be possible to look after me, but they’d have to make a lot of sacrifices. At first they did, but when I was seven, they told me everything. I actually had the idea to go to an orphanage. They wouldn’t hear of it. It took a year to gently persuade them without making them think that I didn’t want to be with them. I did, but they really wanted me to be a spy agent like them. I just want to be a master carpenter. They wouldn’t hear of it. I told them this when they told me what they wanted me to be; a spy agent. They By the time I was seven, I was learning karate and tai kwon do, the piano, Spanish, French, fencing and sword fighting, and acrobatics with my private tutor. I had academic classes in the morning, and then learned everything else. From three to six I would play with the other kids in the neighborhood so I could practice social skills. I was kept in perfect shape. It wasn’t a bad life, but it was controlled. I had no say in my future. I hated that. That’s the real reason I went to the orphanage.”
“The orphanage, however, had everyone go to the public school (where I was moved up a grade) we could have two after school activities a week, as long as they were part of the school program. The other nights we did chores and hung out. It wasn’t bad. One day a week I could go to the woodshop club after school. The teacher said I was a natural. My room in the orphanage had brilliant furniture. I brought most of it here and made the rest. But the orphanage, like my parents wanted to decide your future for you. It had a reputation for producing lawyers and politicians, and wanted to keep that reputation. We received basic training once a week. In high school you had a choice of three law schools that had connections with the orphanage. You had no choice. By the time I was twelve I had my plan fully formed. I’d run away to the forest and live in a tree house I’d make. I’d survive by running a private business for carpentry, and by taking out the college savings account that the orphanage had started. This plan had loads of problems. How would I get tools and material? How would I get the code for the bank account? How would I contact my customers?”
“I solved the problem of the bank account by escaping at dinner to enter the head of the orphanage’s quarters. I stole my entire folder. I also decided to run a mail order service for things like shelves, tables, and chairs. That way, when I delivered the objects I could pretend to be the delivery boy and no one would know that I was actually making the objects.”
“The main problem was getting materials. I didn’t have enough money to get enough supplies to start with, even if I then made enough money to keep going. I turned over all the options in my head. I would have to steal. Now, this just about ruined my plan. I was immediately reminded of everything that could happen to me if I was caught. I could go to juvie, until I was old enough to lead a life in jail. I could also be fined. If I did manage to escape jail, I would be closely watched for the rest of my life. This would be on my permanent record. And even if I did succeed in not getting caught, I’d have to live knowing I stole. Well, for weeks after that I seriously considered just becoming a lawyer or spy agent. I’d give up on my dream as a carpenter. I’d put back the bank account number and discontinue my plans. If you hadn’t done what you did, I would be in school right now.”
At this point I was a bit lost. I hadn’t done anything to help James out before he moved to the woods. I had never even met him. James seemed to sense my confusion.
“Remember about a year ago, just after you won that national soccer tournament with your team?” I did. “Well, they interviewed the whole team because it was such a big deal. When the reporters asked you if you wanted to be a pro soccer player when you grew up, you said that it was a possibility, although you didn’t know what you wanted to be.”
“So?”
“After that you said that once you did figure out what you wanted to be, you’d go after it for the rest of your life. That really impacted me. I thought about what you had said for weeks. You didn’t know what you wanted to be, but I did. I wanted to be a carpenter. I didn’t have the rest of my life, because once I was an adult, I would already be a lawyer or spy. It would be harder to start over. I had my chance now. I shouldn’t let anything stand in my way. Even if it came to stealing? I didn’t know what to do. But after taking layer training for a few more weeks, I made up my mind. I considered everything, including the fact that I had already stolen my account number to get the money. I was already a thief. Why not continue. So, even though I knew how thick I was to be doing this, I came up with a plan to steal wood, nails, screws, hammer, saws, screwdrivers, and anything else I might need.”