Independent #10
So I was listening to Wasted Years by Cold and Numb by Ill Nino. Both have a common emotion so I used it to create this piece. I basically wrote it because it is due and I'd like to pass this class :-D
Looking back on the days past, what, out of everything he did, meant something? What was actually important? Did he change the world?
When he was younger he had hopes, dreams. He would make an impact on the world; he would be worshipped, loved, adored and revered above all others.
Now he sat in his lonely 20,000 square foot mansion on the beach with stacks of empty vodka bottles and piles of naked bodies, all of whom he didn’t know. He had the money, the looks, the women, everything. He was one of the world’s most eligible bachelors. But what was the cost?
She had walked out on him at the very beginning of his upward spiral. She saw his corruption, his demons, his panic, his insanity. He had experienced his fear, anger and frustration.
Looking once more at the picture he kept of her on his desk, he felt that familiar feeling threaten to erupt from him. The tears began to push at the back of his eyelids. Tears of pain, regret, anger, and hatred.
With a swift movement he grabbed the delicate frame and smashed it against the wall.
“Out!! All of you out!!”
Scared and drunk and stoned all the faceless body parts began to run around looking for clothes and sprinted out of the house.
And once more he was alone, with his bottle, his only real true love.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Uplifting Frosh Assignment
Dear Furture Freshmen,
You will rise and you will fall, only to rise once more as you cross that stage for your diploma and throw your cap into the air. Then you will remember every triumph and failure; every heartthrob and heartbreak; every best friends betrayal; every hypocrisy; every loss; every stupid choice you (or your friends) make; every experiment you do (in and out of school); every party you attend. Until that day you will regret every moment that you didn’t make the best of. But don’t worry none of this will haunt you as you cross that puny stage. That single piece of paper with the stamped on signatures of people who never really cared will make it all worth it.
Enjoy!!!
Dear Furture Freshmen,
You will rise and you will fall, only to rise once more as you cross that stage for your diploma and throw your cap into the air. Then you will remember every triumph and failure; every heartthrob and heartbreak; every best friends betrayal; every hypocrisy; every loss; every stupid choice you (or your friends) make; every experiment you do (in and out of school); every party you attend. Until that day you will regret every moment that you didn’t make the best of. But don’t worry none of this will haunt you as you cross that puny stage. That single piece of paper with the stamped on signatures of people who never really cared will make it all worth it.
Enjoy!!!
Monday, June 04, 2007
Why Do You Love Me? -Garbage
I'm no barbie doll
I'm not your baby girl
I've done ugly things and I have made mistakes
And I am not as pretty as those girls in magazines
I am rotten to my core if they're to be believed
So what if I'm no baby bird hanging upon your every word?
Nothing ever smells of roses that rises out of mud
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
You're not some little boy
Why you acting so surprised
You're sick of all the rules
Well I'm sick of all your lies
Now I've held back a wealth of shit, I think I'm gonna choke
I'm standing in the shadows with the words stuck in my throat
Does it really come as a surprise when I tell you I don't feel good?
Nothing ever came from nothing man
Oh man, ain't that the truth
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
I get back up and I do it againI get back up and I do it again
I get back up and I do it againI get back up and I do it, I do it again
I think you're sleeping with a friend of mine
I have no proof but I think that I'm right
And you've still got the most beautiful face
It just makes me sad most of the time
I get back up and I do it againI get back up and I do it again
I get back up and I do it againI get back up and I do it, I do it again
Do it again
Do it again
Do it again
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
I'm no barbie doll
I'm not your baby girl
I've done ugly things and I have made mistakes
And I am not as pretty as those girls in magazines
I am rotten to my core if they're to be believed
So what if I'm no baby bird hanging upon your every word?
Nothing ever smells of roses that rises out of mud
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
You're not some little boy
Why you acting so surprised
You're sick of all the rules
Well I'm sick of all your lies
Now I've held back a wealth of shit, I think I'm gonna choke
I'm standing in the shadows with the words stuck in my throat
Does it really come as a surprise when I tell you I don't feel good?
Nothing ever came from nothing man
Oh man, ain't that the truth
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
I get back up and I do it againI get back up and I do it again
I get back up and I do it againI get back up and I do it, I do it again
I think you're sleeping with a friend of mine
I have no proof but I think that I'm right
And you've still got the most beautiful face
It just makes me sad most of the time
I get back up and I do it againI get back up and I do it again
I get back up and I do it againI get back up and I do it, I do it again
Do it again
Do it again
Do it again
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me, it's driving me crazy
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Why do you love me
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Independent #9
So me and my buddy are sitting here bored and talking. she told me to write about her because we're that crazy. So this is for Michele. <3
So in second grade I met a loud, rambunctious individual who to this day I continue to call me best friend.
When we first met we going through the crazy OMG *NSYNC AND BACKSTREET BOYS stage of our lives. And yes today, to relive old times, we still rock out to them, running down the halls singing “Tearin’ up My Heart”, or “As Long As You Love Me” ignoring the stares and glares.
We’ve gone through so many different and crazy stages during our years together. There was the Spice Girls stage, the Brittany Spears stage, and the Volleyball stage.
We are so different in so many ways now people wonder why we are friends. While she prefers to wear baby blue and listen to Eminem, I prefer to wear black and listen to Marilyn Manson.
She has seen me through my first real crush, my first boyfriend, and my first heartbreak.
My first heartbreak was only a few weeks before my Sweet Sixteen. It was there that Michele laid her eyes upon her future husband. A friend of my brother and three years older. Now more than a year later she is still in love with him.
So me and my buddy are sitting here bored and talking. she told me to write about her because we're that crazy. So this is for Michele. <3
So in second grade I met a loud, rambunctious individual who to this day I continue to call me best friend.
When we first met we going through the crazy OMG *NSYNC AND BACKSTREET BOYS stage of our lives. And yes today, to relive old times, we still rock out to them, running down the halls singing “Tearin’ up My Heart”, or “As Long As You Love Me” ignoring the stares and glares.
We’ve gone through so many different and crazy stages during our years together. There was the Spice Girls stage, the Brittany Spears stage, and the Volleyball stage.
We are so different in so many ways now people wonder why we are friends. While she prefers to wear baby blue and listen to Eminem, I prefer to wear black and listen to Marilyn Manson.
She has seen me through my first real crush, my first boyfriend, and my first heartbreak.
My first heartbreak was only a few weeks before my Sweet Sixteen. It was there that Michele laid her eyes upon her future husband. A friend of my brother and three years older. Now more than a year later she is still in love with him.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Independent #8
I was never in this horrible of a relationship, it was more emotional for me so I transferred it into a physical thing. I think that people are more affected by that than mental abuse although the effect is vertually the same and can have the same outcome. So it's based on a past relationship but it is not a true recollection of evens. More of a what could have happened kinda thing.
Running. She was always running. Her fear controlled her life, dictated her actions, ruled her new relationship. Her fear of love, of commitment, of vulnerability. But mostly her fear of Rocky. That boy for whom she would have killed at one point. But not anymore. Not after it all.
“Where are you going tonight?” he asked innocently, sitting on her couch watching her meticulously groom herself.
“The Batcave,” she replied simply.
“What’s that?” he asked inquisitively.
“It’s this really awesome gothic club in the city. Me, Kim and Alex are going to meet a few of his friends there to celebrate Alex’s birthday.”
“Alex is going….” He stated, the tension in his voice rising.
Shit!
“I thought I told you, you can never see him! You’re not allowed to talk to him, see him, or even think of him!” he screamed in her face. Grabbing her shoulders he shoved her. Hard. Into her mirror, shattering it. She fell with the shards, slicing into her. She didn’t feel a thing. Not his heel digging into her stomach, his hands clenching her throat, his knee crushing her wrist until it snapped.
Help.
Hours later she lay naked on the cold floor of the bathroom, her blood pooling around her, tears streaming down her face.
“Kyra?”
No, no, no please leave me alone. Please go away.
“Oh my God! Kyra! What happened to you???”
Blinking through her tears she saw him. Alex, standing in the doorway, staring at her in horror.
Go. Go before he comes back.
She wanted to scream at him to run but her throat ached and burned. All she could do was lay her forehead on the floor and let her sobs shake her body and speak for her.
Without a word Alex knelt before her and wrapped his arms around her, soothing her, cradling her ever so gently.
“What the f***!!!!”
Oh no. God please no!
The rest is a blur. The fighting, cursing, yelling, the blood, all warped into a mess of emotions.
She stood in the cemetery staring down at the dirt at her feet.
“Alex Smith. July 14th, 1982- July 14th, 2007.”
Now almost a year later she still feared him. Though he is locked behind bars hundreds of miles away she froze at the name. He sent her letters professing his love, saying that they’d be together once he got out.
Aiden tried to calm her, protect her, make her feel safe in the home they made. But she could never forget. Never forget his blood soaking her as she lay helpless beneath him. The guilt consumed her, ate away at her.
The pills slowly, painlessly put her into a peaceful sleep.
I was never in this horrible of a relationship, it was more emotional for me so I transferred it into a physical thing. I think that people are more affected by that than mental abuse although the effect is vertually the same and can have the same outcome. So it's based on a past relationship but it is not a true recollection of evens. More of a what could have happened kinda thing.
Running. She was always running. Her fear controlled her life, dictated her actions, ruled her new relationship. Her fear of love, of commitment, of vulnerability. But mostly her fear of Rocky. That boy for whom she would have killed at one point. But not anymore. Not after it all.
“Where are you going tonight?” he asked innocently, sitting on her couch watching her meticulously groom herself.
“The Batcave,” she replied simply.
“What’s that?” he asked inquisitively.
“It’s this really awesome gothic club in the city. Me, Kim and Alex are going to meet a few of his friends there to celebrate Alex’s birthday.”
“Alex is going….” He stated, the tension in his voice rising.
Shit!
“I thought I told you, you can never see him! You’re not allowed to talk to him, see him, or even think of him!” he screamed in her face. Grabbing her shoulders he shoved her. Hard. Into her mirror, shattering it. She fell with the shards, slicing into her. She didn’t feel a thing. Not his heel digging into her stomach, his hands clenching her throat, his knee crushing her wrist until it snapped.
Help.
Hours later she lay naked on the cold floor of the bathroom, her blood pooling around her, tears streaming down her face.
“Kyra?”
No, no, no please leave me alone. Please go away.
“Oh my God! Kyra! What happened to you???”
Blinking through her tears she saw him. Alex, standing in the doorway, staring at her in horror.
Go. Go before he comes back.
She wanted to scream at him to run but her throat ached and burned. All she could do was lay her forehead on the floor and let her sobs shake her body and speak for her.
Without a word Alex knelt before her and wrapped his arms around her, soothing her, cradling her ever so gently.
“What the f***!!!!”
Oh no. God please no!
The rest is a blur. The fighting, cursing, yelling, the blood, all warped into a mess of emotions.
She stood in the cemetery staring down at the dirt at her feet.
“Alex Smith. July 14th, 1982- July 14th, 2007.”
Now almost a year later she still feared him. Though he is locked behind bars hundreds of miles away she froze at the name. He sent her letters professing his love, saying that they’d be together once he got out.
Aiden tried to calm her, protect her, make her feel safe in the home they made. But she could never forget. Never forget his blood soaking her as she lay helpless beneath him. The guilt consumed her, ate away at her.
The pills slowly, painlessly put her into a peaceful sleep.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Independent #7 Intro
Sorry I forgot the intro on the last one. I know it must have distressed you all (*cough* Popken *cough cough*). God Forbid. Will you ever forgive me???
Anyway. Yeah I decided to have a little fun with schizophrenia and people being crazy. Unlike my past pieces, this piece WASN'T based on personal experience....Honest it wasn't! But yeah so it's weird and I once again didn't outright tell you what was going on in it because that would make it too easy for you.
Sorry I forgot the intro on the last one. I know it must have distressed you all (*cough* Popken *cough cough*). God Forbid. Will you ever forgive me???
Anyway. Yeah I decided to have a little fun with schizophrenia and people being crazy. Unlike my past pieces, this piece WASN'T based on personal experience....Honest it wasn't! But yeah so it's weird and I once again didn't outright tell you what was going on in it because that would make it too easy for you.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Independent #7
I’ve really f***** things up this time. Why did I have to drink? Why did I have to lie? Now the only guy I’ve cared about since Him, hates me.
Come now, he doesn’t hate you.
Well maybe he doesn’t hate me, but she sure as hell isn’t fond of me.
All is not lost. He said that he had feelings for you.
He had had feelings for me? How could I not have seen it? Because he told me he was falling for his ex again. What would any girl do? Pursue someone who was obviously giving hints that his thoughts were not on her? That’s such a hopeless cause!!
But it wasn’t was it?
No, now he said that just because he was getting feelings for his ex doesn’t mean he didn’t have them for me. How was I supposed to know that? What am I psychic?”
You realize what you have to do don’t you?
No I can’t. I won’t! That’s wrong.
No it’s right and yes we can and yes we will!
NO I WON’T!! THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOU THIS IS ABOUT ME!!! YOU DON’T EXIST!
You wouldn’t have gotten this far if it wasn’t for me! Have you forgotten already all that I’ve done for you, you ungrateful little b****! Remember? Remember HIM?
What are you talking about? You didn’t do anything. I dumped him because of what he did. You didn’t do anything. I dumped him.
And you haven’t heard a thing from or about him since have you.
No, I haven’t. He just disap…..Oh my God. What did you do?!?!?!
What had to be done. He had to learn his lesson. And you were too weak to do it. So I had to. I had to crawl out of the dark and save you.
You horrible, horrible creature. You b****, you f***ing lying b****!!!!
I’m not a b****. I’m you.
No, no you’re not. No leave me alone. Get away from me. Oh I feel so dirty. Oh God I’m going to be sick.
I’m a part of you. You can’t ever escape me. You’re bond to me forever.
I’ve really f***** things up this time. Why did I have to drink? Why did I have to lie? Now the only guy I’ve cared about since Him, hates me.
Come now, he doesn’t hate you.
Well maybe he doesn’t hate me, but she sure as hell isn’t fond of me.
All is not lost. He said that he had feelings for you.
He had had feelings for me? How could I not have seen it? Because he told me he was falling for his ex again. What would any girl do? Pursue someone who was obviously giving hints that his thoughts were not on her? That’s such a hopeless cause!!
But it wasn’t was it?
No, now he said that just because he was getting feelings for his ex doesn’t mean he didn’t have them for me. How was I supposed to know that? What am I psychic?”
You realize what you have to do don’t you?
No I can’t. I won’t! That’s wrong.
No it’s right and yes we can and yes we will!
NO I WON’T!! THIS ISN’T ABOUT YOU THIS IS ABOUT ME!!! YOU DON’T EXIST!
You wouldn’t have gotten this far if it wasn’t for me! Have you forgotten already all that I’ve done for you, you ungrateful little b****! Remember? Remember HIM?
What are you talking about? You didn’t do anything. I dumped him because of what he did. You didn’t do anything. I dumped him.
And you haven’t heard a thing from or about him since have you.
No, I haven’t. He just disap…..Oh my God. What did you do?!?!?!
What had to be done. He had to learn his lesson. And you were too weak to do it. So I had to. I had to crawl out of the dark and save you.
You horrible, horrible creature. You b****, you f***ing lying b****!!!!
I’m not a b****. I’m you.
No, no you’re not. No leave me alone. Get away from me. Oh I feel so dirty. Oh God I’m going to be sick.
I’m a part of you. You can’t ever escape me. You’re bond to me forever.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Microfiction
She did love him, he knew. She never lied, about that anyway. What she did lie about was where she was, who she was, what she was doing, who she was doing it with while he waited every night for hours for the one phone call that could brighten his day. The one that sometimes never came.
What she did lie about was who she was, what he was to her, what she wanted in life. She wasn’t his soul mate, he wasn’t her soul mate, and she didn’t want to marry him, raise a family with him, grow old with him.
He did love her, she knew. He always told the truth, about that anyway. She loved him but she could never be with him. She could never trust him, believe him, or love him the way he did.
She would go out looking for someone that could fill the void that he could never, no matter how hard he tried. She went out using anyone and anything to feel that high she once felt. But she never found it.
She loved him, he knew.
He loved her, she knew.
The sound of the gun split them apart.
She did love him, he knew. She never lied, about that anyway. What she did lie about was where she was, who she was, what she was doing, who she was doing it with while he waited every night for hours for the one phone call that could brighten his day. The one that sometimes never came.
What she did lie about was who she was, what he was to her, what she wanted in life. She wasn’t his soul mate, he wasn’t her soul mate, and she didn’t want to marry him, raise a family with him, grow old with him.
He did love her, she knew. He always told the truth, about that anyway. She loved him but she could never be with him. She could never trust him, believe him, or love him the way he did.
She would go out looking for someone that could fill the void that he could never, no matter how hard he tried. She went out using anyone and anything to feel that high she once felt. But she never found it.
She loved him, he knew.
He loved her, she knew.
The sound of the gun split them apart.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Independent Writing #6
Okay this piece was really interesting to write. I decided to put in dialogue and only dialogue, no setting or enviornment, no elaboration on the statements, no showing the emotions through description, no names. I didn't even show if the characters were boys or girls or a boy and a girl or what so that people can make their own inference. Although it may imply they are a certain gender it doesn't mean that they are. Hopefully someone will see it differently. I had to rely on the characters talking only which made it a bit more difficult than my writing in the past. Much like the rest of mine, it is based off non-fiction events in my life, minus the last few lines.
“Excuse me?”
“……. We’re getting back together.”
“……”
“I know you’re hurt but…”
“Oh no. No, I’m not hurt. I’m stunned that any one person can be so STUPID!”
“How am I stupid?”
“Well let’s see, she broke your heart by first dumping you and selling everything you gave her on eBay. Then they went and got another lover a few days later and slept with them which shattered the pieces of your heart. Then as if that wasn’t enough, to top it all off she told everyone in town that you raped her!!!! And you want to get back with her???”
“She’s truly sorry. Really she is.”
“Right and I understand all the theory of quantum physics.”
“You don’t understand. You don’t understand at all. You don’t understand love. What its like. What crazy things it can make you do.”
“…….You’re wrong. I loved you. I would have done anything for you. I have. I’ve been there for everything. Who did you call when she tore apart your soul? Who was there when you were arrested because of her? Who heard you cry night after night. Who did you use to get over her? Me, me, me. I’m sorry but I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to talk to you or see you ever again. It hurts too much.”
“Don’t be like that. C’mon you’re my best friend. Don’t do this.”
“No, I’m not doing this. You are.”
“Hey. Wait! Come back! Wait!”
Okay this piece was really interesting to write. I decided to put in dialogue and only dialogue, no setting or enviornment, no elaboration on the statements, no showing the emotions through description, no names. I didn't even show if the characters were boys or girls or a boy and a girl or what so that people can make their own inference. Although it may imply they are a certain gender it doesn't mean that they are. Hopefully someone will see it differently. I had to rely on the characters talking only which made it a bit more difficult than my writing in the past. Much like the rest of mine, it is based off non-fiction events in my life, minus the last few lines.
“Excuse me?”
“……. We’re getting back together.”
“……”
“I know you’re hurt but…”
“Oh no. No, I’m not hurt. I’m stunned that any one person can be so STUPID!”
“How am I stupid?”
“Well let’s see, she broke your heart by first dumping you and selling everything you gave her on eBay. Then they went and got another lover a few days later and slept with them which shattered the pieces of your heart. Then as if that wasn’t enough, to top it all off she told everyone in town that you raped her!!!! And you want to get back with her???”
“She’s truly sorry. Really she is.”
“Right and I understand all the theory of quantum physics.”
“You don’t understand. You don’t understand at all. You don’t understand love. What its like. What crazy things it can make you do.”
“…….You’re wrong. I loved you. I would have done anything for you. I have. I’ve been there for everything. Who did you call when she tore apart your soul? Who was there when you were arrested because of her? Who heard you cry night after night. Who did you use to get over her? Me, me, me. I’m sorry but I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to talk to you or see you ever again. It hurts too much.”
“Don’t be like that. C’mon you’re my best friend. Don’t do this.”
“No, I’m not doing this. You are.”
“Hey. Wait! Come back! Wait!”
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Screenplay Assignment
Scene I
Kyra: [This room is so exquisitely dull. Everything is beige, the lamp, the rug, the carpet even the couch is beige. All the same shade too. Everything blends in; it’s as if nothing is here. I’m not even here. My God, I’m beige. I’m a bland ugly beige wall. I’m…]
Doctor: What are you thinking?
Kyra: [How dare you interrupt my thoughts you old wrinkly pig.] I’m thinking about white fluffy bunnies with pink noses.
Doctor: Really now? I was just thinking about how damn beige this room is. It really needs some color. Any suggestions?
Kyra: [I hate you.] Actually I rather like beige. It invokes thought and gives the illusion of a scholar. [You are so full of shit.]
Doctor: You are so full of shit.
Kyra: [I am so tired of this] Stop doing that!
Doctor: [innocently] Doing what?
Kyra: Saying what I am thinking.
Doctor: So why don’t you say what you’re thinking?
Kyra: Because it’s none of your damn business.
Doctor: [grinning evilly] On the contrary everything about you is my business. You forget me petite that you are stuck here until I see fit to allow you to be released. And that could be a very long time from now.
His laugh throughout the room. The beige started to melt off the walls and cover her from head to toe, consuming her, suffocating her, killing her.
Kyra: [Run, run I have to run away! I can’t move! I’m stuck! Help!]
Scene II
Charles: [I wonder where she is now…]
Francesco: You C!
Charles: [F***! I’m not in the mood Francesco] Yo Francesco, my man! What’s poppin’? Hey how’d it go with your lady last night? [As if I care you bastard. You’re the reason I’m without mine right now]
Francesco: [cocky grin] Just another bee in the hive, homez you know how it is.
Charles: [No, I don’t and you know it. Just smile, just smile, just smile. We’ll get him soon just smile, just smile.]
Scene III
Francesco: How they treating you babe?
Kyra: [Horrible! They drug me and write false reports about me. I’m not crazy I swear it! I didn’t hurt anyone! Please you’ve got to help me!] Great, everyone is really nice. I’m starting to get a lot better.
Francesco: Any word on when you’ll be getting out? I miss you so bad.
Kyra: [God he’s so wonderful] I miss you, too. [I’ll never get out of here] And I should be getting out really soon.
Francesco: Oh, I’m so glad.
The computer interrupts their meeting. Its robotic voice rings out end of all sessions.
Francesco: [Well I can’t have her getting out anytime soon. If she gets out, unmediated then she could ruin everything. I’ve only got one way to stop that.]
He picks up his cell phone and speed dials a number.
Francesco: Hey Doc. We got to do something here….
Kyra: [I wonder how C is…]
Scene I
Kyra: [This room is so exquisitely dull. Everything is beige, the lamp, the rug, the carpet even the couch is beige. All the same shade too. Everything blends in; it’s as if nothing is here. I’m not even here. My God, I’m beige. I’m a bland ugly beige wall. I’m…]
Doctor: What are you thinking?
Kyra: [How dare you interrupt my thoughts you old wrinkly pig.] I’m thinking about white fluffy bunnies with pink noses.
Doctor: Really now? I was just thinking about how damn beige this room is. It really needs some color. Any suggestions?
Kyra: [I hate you.] Actually I rather like beige. It invokes thought and gives the illusion of a scholar. [You are so full of shit.]
Doctor: You are so full of shit.
Kyra: [I am so tired of this] Stop doing that!
Doctor: [innocently] Doing what?
Kyra: Saying what I am thinking.
Doctor: So why don’t you say what you’re thinking?
Kyra: Because it’s none of your damn business.
Doctor: [grinning evilly] On the contrary everything about you is my business. You forget me petite that you are stuck here until I see fit to allow you to be released. And that could be a very long time from now.
His laugh throughout the room. The beige started to melt off the walls and cover her from head to toe, consuming her, suffocating her, killing her.
Kyra: [Run, run I have to run away! I can’t move! I’m stuck! Help!]
Scene II
Charles: [I wonder where she is now…]
Francesco: You C!
Charles: [F***! I’m not in the mood Francesco] Yo Francesco, my man! What’s poppin’? Hey how’d it go with your lady last night? [As if I care you bastard. You’re the reason I’m without mine right now]
Francesco: [cocky grin] Just another bee in the hive, homez you know how it is.
Charles: [No, I don’t and you know it. Just smile, just smile, just smile. We’ll get him soon just smile, just smile.]
Scene III
Francesco: How they treating you babe?
Kyra: [Horrible! They drug me and write false reports about me. I’m not crazy I swear it! I didn’t hurt anyone! Please you’ve got to help me!] Great, everyone is really nice. I’m starting to get a lot better.
Francesco: Any word on when you’ll be getting out? I miss you so bad.
Kyra: [God he’s so wonderful] I miss you, too. [I’ll never get out of here] And I should be getting out really soon.
Francesco: Oh, I’m so glad.
The computer interrupts their meeting. Its robotic voice rings out end of all sessions.
Francesco: [Well I can’t have her getting out anytime soon. If she gets out, unmediated then she could ruin everything. I’ve only got one way to stop that.]
He picks up his cell phone and speed dials a number.
Francesco: Hey Doc. We got to do something here….
Kyra: [I wonder how C is…]
Friday, April 13, 2007
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Independent Writing #5 (part three of three)
The final part of my long, twisted story.
It wasn’t as hard for him. I could tell, at least I thought I could tell. He always seemed so happy afterwards. We never talked about it again, never even hinted at it. I think that’s what really killed us. That’s why we stopped talking. It hurt me to be so distant from him that I had to stop it. I had to pull away completely.
He didn’t understand. He was so hurt. Why did I pull away? Why was I ignoring him? I was too scared, too weak to explain. So I ran. I ran away and avoided him. March 13th. That was the last time I saw him, heard him, and touched him.
I thought about him all the time. Jon was getting sick of me crying and talking about him. Whenever I saw him he’d continue his futile pursuit of me and my heart. Soon he wanted nothing to do with me. I was a “tease” to him. Obviously telling him about my feelings for his best friend was teasing him.
I was left completely alone. My grades declined and I eventually got kicked out of school for being a frickin’ idiot.
I finally got Jon to talk to me. He knew I needed him. After we started to get comfortable with each other I asked him about Chuck. How was he? What was he doing? Did he ever talk about me?
Apparently I had missed a lot. Jon hadn’t talked to him in almost a month (compared to my three). Last he heard Chuck had been kicked out of his house and was living under a tree on Main Street in Danbury. I looked for him for weeks. I couldn’t find him.
Finally Jon called me saying he had found him. July 1st. He was gone. And I had never told him the truth. And although I’m sure he knows now it still kills me that I couldn’t do it myself.
After his death Jon confessed something to me. The night that Chuck had kissed me, he hadn’t really said those awful things. On the contrary Chuck had told him that he was starting to have strong feelings for me but was too scared of rejection and made Jon promise not to tell me.
Keeping a promise to my friends is the most important thing to me. I will never betray that trust, with few exceptions. If keeping a promise to my friend means keeping them unhappy I will break that promise in a second. If a promise is keeping to of my best friends apart and all they want is to be together, f*** that promise.
I learned a lot about myself thanks to Chuck.
I miss him.
The final part of my long, twisted story.
It wasn’t as hard for him. I could tell, at least I thought I could tell. He always seemed so happy afterwards. We never talked about it again, never even hinted at it. I think that’s what really killed us. That’s why we stopped talking. It hurt me to be so distant from him that I had to stop it. I had to pull away completely.
He didn’t understand. He was so hurt. Why did I pull away? Why was I ignoring him? I was too scared, too weak to explain. So I ran. I ran away and avoided him. March 13th. That was the last time I saw him, heard him, and touched him.
I thought about him all the time. Jon was getting sick of me crying and talking about him. Whenever I saw him he’d continue his futile pursuit of me and my heart. Soon he wanted nothing to do with me. I was a “tease” to him. Obviously telling him about my feelings for his best friend was teasing him.
I was left completely alone. My grades declined and I eventually got kicked out of school for being a frickin’ idiot.
I finally got Jon to talk to me. He knew I needed him. After we started to get comfortable with each other I asked him about Chuck. How was he? What was he doing? Did he ever talk about me?
Apparently I had missed a lot. Jon hadn’t talked to him in almost a month (compared to my three). Last he heard Chuck had been kicked out of his house and was living under a tree on Main Street in Danbury. I looked for him for weeks. I couldn’t find him.
Finally Jon called me saying he had found him. July 1st. He was gone. And I had never told him the truth. And although I’m sure he knows now it still kills me that I couldn’t do it myself.
After his death Jon confessed something to me. The night that Chuck had kissed me, he hadn’t really said those awful things. On the contrary Chuck had told him that he was starting to have strong feelings for me but was too scared of rejection and made Jon promise not to tell me.
Keeping a promise to my friends is the most important thing to me. I will never betray that trust, with few exceptions. If keeping a promise to my friend means keeping them unhappy I will break that promise in a second. If a promise is keeping to of my best friends apart and all they want is to be together, f*** that promise.
I learned a lot about myself thanks to Chuck.
I miss him.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Independent Writing #4 (part two of three)
Just a continuation of the prior. Nothing else I can say.
I guess he cared more than he said he did, Jon that is. It had always been him that I called every night to talk to and, eventually, fall asleep to. Now it was Chuck, his best friend. I guess I just didn’t understand the depth of the betrayal.
One night Chuck wasn’t answering the phone and I really needed him. I still wasn’t healed from the hurt Sean lovingly bestowed upon me and had just discovered that he had a girlfriend. One whom he had a picture of them making out on his myspace. He posted it shamelessly with no consideration for my feelings. To make matters worse, he blew me off on my birthday to go out with her and then LIED to me about it.
So I called Jon instead. He happened to be on the other line with his friend Frankie.
Now Frankie is nothing at all like Chuck. He was a “hit it and quit it” guy. Which, of course, Jon just happened to fail to tell me. Once again Jon connected our calls, thinking Frankie would help me. Didn’t he learn the first time?
Being a fragile, desperate little girl, Frankie saw an easy target and quickly began to flirt with me. It didn’t take long for me to begin to imagine us together. He got my number from Jon the nest day and called me immediately. He knew what he wanted and knew how to get it and went for it.
After awhile Chuck started to disappear from my mind. He’d call me as usual but I’d be on the phone with Frankie and would blow him off telling him I’d call him back later, and than never did. He stopped calling after awhile.
It went on for months. I was becoming increasingly depressed because he still hadn’t asked me out. I called Chuck. I needed him.
He refused to talk to me at first, saying I had dug myself into this hole and only I could dig myself out. But being the kind person he was he couldn’t leave me out in the cold for long.
I disconnected myself from Frankie and began to put my life and heart back together. I saw Chuck all the time. He was, at the risk of being cliché, my knight in shining armor. But still I thought us to be friends and nothing more, though I wanted more. I was still afraid. Afraid to let him know how I really felt. I never thought that he could feel the same. Until he kissed me.
We all met up at the movies, me, Chuck, Jon, Eli, Bree, and Gabie. We walked to Jon’s house about a 15 minute walk. While we walking he wrapped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me close, saying he heard me shivering. Soon we fell in step behind the group. He stopped walking which stopped me. I turned to him to ask what was the matter. Instead of answering he looked at me for what seemed like hours, leaned in and connected. I was in heaven.
Until the next morning.
Jon called me with a story about how Chuck said that he would get me into bed before the month was out. I never cried so hard in my life. But he was still my best friend so I called him saying we should be friends, no more, no less.
He agreed.
Just a continuation of the prior. Nothing else I can say.
I guess he cared more than he said he did, Jon that is. It had always been him that I called every night to talk to and, eventually, fall asleep to. Now it was Chuck, his best friend. I guess I just didn’t understand the depth of the betrayal.
One night Chuck wasn’t answering the phone and I really needed him. I still wasn’t healed from the hurt Sean lovingly bestowed upon me and had just discovered that he had a girlfriend. One whom he had a picture of them making out on his myspace. He posted it shamelessly with no consideration for my feelings. To make matters worse, he blew me off on my birthday to go out with her and then LIED to me about it.
So I called Jon instead. He happened to be on the other line with his friend Frankie.
Now Frankie is nothing at all like Chuck. He was a “hit it and quit it” guy. Which, of course, Jon just happened to fail to tell me. Once again Jon connected our calls, thinking Frankie would help me. Didn’t he learn the first time?
Being a fragile, desperate little girl, Frankie saw an easy target and quickly began to flirt with me. It didn’t take long for me to begin to imagine us together. He got my number from Jon the nest day and called me immediately. He knew what he wanted and knew how to get it and went for it.
After awhile Chuck started to disappear from my mind. He’d call me as usual but I’d be on the phone with Frankie and would blow him off telling him I’d call him back later, and than never did. He stopped calling after awhile.
It went on for months. I was becoming increasingly depressed because he still hadn’t asked me out. I called Chuck. I needed him.
He refused to talk to me at first, saying I had dug myself into this hole and only I could dig myself out. But being the kind person he was he couldn’t leave me out in the cold for long.
I disconnected myself from Frankie and began to put my life and heart back together. I saw Chuck all the time. He was, at the risk of being cliché, my knight in shining armor. But still I thought us to be friends and nothing more, though I wanted more. I was still afraid. Afraid to let him know how I really felt. I never thought that he could feel the same. Until he kissed me.
We all met up at the movies, me, Chuck, Jon, Eli, Bree, and Gabie. We walked to Jon’s house about a 15 minute walk. While we walking he wrapped his arm over my shoulder and pulled me close, saying he heard me shivering. Soon we fell in step behind the group. He stopped walking which stopped me. I turned to him to ask what was the matter. Instead of answering he looked at me for what seemed like hours, leaned in and connected. I was in heaven.
Until the next morning.
Jon called me with a story about how Chuck said that he would get me into bed before the month was out. I never cried so hard in my life. But he was still my best friend so I called him saying we should be friends, no more, no less.
He agreed.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Independent Wrtiting #3 (part one of three)
Losing some is the hardest thing anyone can ever go through. I wrote this piece to express the pain that still exists from losing my friend. This piece, even though it is an independent piece it completely non fiction. So basically I’m letting anyone who reads this to read into a part of my life. A part I wish I could relive with everything I am. Because even a simple sentence can change history. Looking back on it all there were so many opportunities to tell him everything, to fix my stupidity. God, I was such a spoiled little child.
My story is long and twisted. It all started over a year ago. With Sean, a now, ex-boyfriend. We broke up and like any typical teenage girl who fancied herself “in love” I was devastated and burrowed myself into a dark and glooming hole of cold unfeeling emptiness which I was determined to never come out of. It figures that that hole would be the true cause of my future pain.
Many nights I stayed up until an absurd hour crying on the phone with my friend Jon. He had been with me through the entire relationship from its senseless beginning to its rugged end.
On one of these many nights where he failed to calm me down he had his friend over. A boy named Chuck. I had heard plenty about him but had never met him. When Jon said that I should talk to him I refused and even got angry with him that he would suggest something so asinine. As if I was going to go pouring out my soul to some stranger. But my protests were futile.
I was silent and hostile to him, thinking that he would eventually get bored and hand the phone back to Jon. I was wrong, however. Instead he considered me a challenge to crack and simply spoke to me about his life, music anything until he finally got me to start talking.
It was so strange how easy he was to talk to. I didn’t have to elaborate or explain myself like I did with Jon. He instantly knew what I meant and understood everything. He had managed to do what friends I’ve known for nine years had failed at some many times. He figured me out. We spoke for hours, until I fell asleep, on the phone with him.
The next day I called Jon to ask for his number. He was extremely reluctant.
You see my dear Jon had had a crush on me for over a year and he believe that I was starting to have feelings for Chuck and would have him as a rebound guy.
Finally I got him to understand that I simply wanted his number because I never thanked him. He had no idea who I was and yet he tolerated me and had helped me more than anyone I’ve ever met.
It took me two days to work up the courage to finally call him. Would he even remember who the hell I was? Would he think I was just come pathetic little girl who was now clinging to him? Would he think I was creepy for asking Jon for his number?
My fears were apparently absurd. When he answered the phone my voice was shaking as I told him who it was. His reply shocked me.
“Hey girl! I’m glad you called! I was actually asked Jon for your number and I’ve been working up the nerve to call you for a few days.”
That was the very beginning. We talked for at least two hours everyday. He was my best friend and the only one I could truly talk to about anything without fear of judgment. We were so close for so many months.
Then it all went down.
Losing some is the hardest thing anyone can ever go through. I wrote this piece to express the pain that still exists from losing my friend. This piece, even though it is an independent piece it completely non fiction. So basically I’m letting anyone who reads this to read into a part of my life. A part I wish I could relive with everything I am. Because even a simple sentence can change history. Looking back on it all there were so many opportunities to tell him everything, to fix my stupidity. God, I was such a spoiled little child.
My story is long and twisted. It all started over a year ago. With Sean, a now, ex-boyfriend. We broke up and like any typical teenage girl who fancied herself “in love” I was devastated and burrowed myself into a dark and glooming hole of cold unfeeling emptiness which I was determined to never come out of. It figures that that hole would be the true cause of my future pain.
Many nights I stayed up until an absurd hour crying on the phone with my friend Jon. He had been with me through the entire relationship from its senseless beginning to its rugged end.
On one of these many nights where he failed to calm me down he had his friend over. A boy named Chuck. I had heard plenty about him but had never met him. When Jon said that I should talk to him I refused and even got angry with him that he would suggest something so asinine. As if I was going to go pouring out my soul to some stranger. But my protests were futile.
I was silent and hostile to him, thinking that he would eventually get bored and hand the phone back to Jon. I was wrong, however. Instead he considered me a challenge to crack and simply spoke to me about his life, music anything until he finally got me to start talking.
It was so strange how easy he was to talk to. I didn’t have to elaborate or explain myself like I did with Jon. He instantly knew what I meant and understood everything. He had managed to do what friends I’ve known for nine years had failed at some many times. He figured me out. We spoke for hours, until I fell asleep, on the phone with him.
The next day I called Jon to ask for his number. He was extremely reluctant.
You see my dear Jon had had a crush on me for over a year and he believe that I was starting to have feelings for Chuck and would have him as a rebound guy.
Finally I got him to understand that I simply wanted his number because I never thanked him. He had no idea who I was and yet he tolerated me and had helped me more than anyone I’ve ever met.
It took me two days to work up the courage to finally call him. Would he even remember who the hell I was? Would he think I was just come pathetic little girl who was now clinging to him? Would he think I was creepy for asking Jon for his number?
My fears were apparently absurd. When he answered the phone my voice was shaking as I told him who it was. His reply shocked me.
“Hey girl! I’m glad you called! I was actually asked Jon for your number and I’ve been working up the nerve to call you for a few days.”
That was the very beginning. We talked for at least two hours everyday. He was my best friend and the only one I could truly talk to about anything without fear of judgment. We were so close for so many months.
Then it all went down.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Pop Culture Assignment
“Who are you to say what is natural? What is natural? Your hair certainly isn’t. Look at that piece. Looks like you picked it up off the road; midst rotting. Every week I come and listen to your madness, your hypocrisy, your hatred, discrimination, damnation! I’m sick of it! I’m not ashamed anymore! You can not change me!”
I was finally free from that awful place.
I’ve tried for over a year to make myself into something I’m not.
I’m bisexual.
It all began about a year ago, when I finally started to accept who I really was. I admitted it to myself and my friend. Now came the really hard part, my parents.
My father. He holds reads from his Book of Lies. What a hypocrite. What happened to the man I once knew? Ever since I admitted who I really was he began to preach what he used to damn. He invites over every teenage boy he knows. I’m not even allowed to have girl friends over unless we stay in the living room and he is home. I’m not a lesbian. I don’t want every girl I see. Same goes for guys.
I live in this small town everyday. My friends support me and love me no matter what. Why can’t my own father? My own flesh and blood. Why can’t he just love me for me? His own sister is a lesbian and he always told us to accept people for who they are.
My mother, she does. She accepts me, encourages me, and supports me. Of course she didn’t completely at first. She didn’t want to believe me at first. But once she began to get comfortable she hugged me and told me everything will be alright. It was such a relief too. I get enough stares at school. Enough condemnation from my peers who just do not understand.
When I told them that I was bi they both were shocked. Who wasn’t? I’ve had how many boyfriends? No one had ever even considered the possibility. Not even when I joined the school’s Gay-Straight Alliance (GSA). They thought it was just a phase, something I would grow out of. Until Teresa. Then it finally sunk in. At first they sent me to support groups. I was willing, naïve even at first, thinking “Ok a support group will support me”.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
It was at my church and all they did was tell us, myself and the other “troubled adolescence” that we were disgusting, vile, deemed unworthy by God and damned to Hell if we didn’t change our wicked ways.
I believed them. I cried. Said I wanted God back into my life. To lead me, to love me. I went to confession every time I saw a girl and thought that she was pretty. I tried. I tried so damn hard! But not all the love in the world, not all the penance could change me. There are not enough Hail Mary’s, Our Fathers, or Holy Water in the entire Vatican to change who someone is.
I know this now. Now I understand that this is who I am and I can not fight it. I am no longer that same weak little girl who bent to her fathers will. Now I decide for myself who I want and what I want.
We have not truly spoken in months.
When I told him I wouldn’t return to the Group, I’ve never seen him so mad, so ashamed. That’s what hurts so deeply. His disappointment. But I can’t let it get to me. Ever. If he can’t love me for whom I am, as I can for him….
I have a boyfriend that I love now. My mother is happy for me. As happy as she would have been if it was a girlfriend. My father, all he had to say was, “Does he know of your sin?” No, he does not know of my sin, because being who I am is not a sin. What he does know is who I am and loves me anyway.
Maybe one day so will my father.
....Don’t hold your breathe.
“Who are you to say what is natural? What is natural? Your hair certainly isn’t. Look at that piece. Looks like you picked it up off the road; midst rotting. Every week I come and listen to your madness, your hypocrisy, your hatred, discrimination, damnation! I’m sick of it! I’m not ashamed anymore! You can not change me!”
I was finally free from that awful place.
I’ve tried for over a year to make myself into something I’m not.
I’m bisexual.
It all began about a year ago, when I finally started to accept who I really was. I admitted it to myself and my friend. Now came the really hard part, my parents.
My father. He holds reads from his Book of Lies. What a hypocrite. What happened to the man I once knew? Ever since I admitted who I really was he began to preach what he used to damn. He invites over every teenage boy he knows. I’m not even allowed to have girl friends over unless we stay in the living room and he is home. I’m not a lesbian. I don’t want every girl I see. Same goes for guys.
I live in this small town everyday. My friends support me and love me no matter what. Why can’t my own father? My own flesh and blood. Why can’t he just love me for me? His own sister is a lesbian and he always told us to accept people for who they are.
My mother, she does. She accepts me, encourages me, and supports me. Of course she didn’t completely at first. She didn’t want to believe me at first. But once she began to get comfortable she hugged me and told me everything will be alright. It was such a relief too. I get enough stares at school. Enough condemnation from my peers who just do not understand.
When I told them that I was bi they both were shocked. Who wasn’t? I’ve had how many boyfriends? No one had ever even considered the possibility. Not even when I joined the school’s Gay-Straight Alliance (GSA). They thought it was just a phase, something I would grow out of. Until Teresa. Then it finally sunk in. At first they sent me to support groups. I was willing, naïve even at first, thinking “Ok a support group will support me”.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
It was at my church and all they did was tell us, myself and the other “troubled adolescence” that we were disgusting, vile, deemed unworthy by God and damned to Hell if we didn’t change our wicked ways.
I believed them. I cried. Said I wanted God back into my life. To lead me, to love me. I went to confession every time I saw a girl and thought that she was pretty. I tried. I tried so damn hard! But not all the love in the world, not all the penance could change me. There are not enough Hail Mary’s, Our Fathers, or Holy Water in the entire Vatican to change who someone is.
I know this now. Now I understand that this is who I am and I can not fight it. I am no longer that same weak little girl who bent to her fathers will. Now I decide for myself who I want and what I want.
We have not truly spoken in months.
When I told him I wouldn’t return to the Group, I’ve never seen him so mad, so ashamed. That’s what hurts so deeply. His disappointment. But I can’t let it get to me. Ever. If he can’t love me for whom I am, as I can for him….
I have a boyfriend that I love now. My mother is happy for me. As happy as she would have been if it was a girlfriend. My father, all he had to say was, “Does he know of your sin?” No, he does not know of my sin, because being who I am is not a sin. What he does know is who I am and loves me anyway.
Maybe one day so will my father.
....Don’t hold your breathe.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Lives Assignment
July 1st, the very beginning of summer. Summer ’06, it held such promise didn’t it? New people, new adventures, new times that I won’t ever remember.
I had plenty of nights I wouldn’t remember, trying to drown away the memory of what happened that day…
Chuck, my dearest friend, why did you have to go so soon? He was only 16 and had so much more to do! On that fateful night there was a fireworks show at Candlewood Lake, as there is every year. My foolish friend was drunk and he was stoned and decided to go swimming with his two brothers, Andrew, 19, and Danny, 11. After only a few minutes Andrew and Danny lost track of Chuck. They got out of the water, thinking that he had joined the crowd watching the display. They looked for him for 15 minutes before returning to the lake. Before finding him face down in the water 20 feet out from shore.
He had been such a good swimmer too.
When I got the call the next night that I would never see my best friend, my love ever again, I didn’t even cry. I dropped the phone, fell to my knees, my faced burned like I was going to cry but nothing came out. Nothing but an ear shattering scream. My dad came running, my mom slowly behind him. He shook me for a good 5 minutes, I’m told, yelling at me what was wrong, failing to make my screams stop.
When I finally found the words all I could utter was “Charles Bennett”. My parents had never met him and were bewildered as to my meaning. When my dad finally caught on he went to his computer and typed in his name and came up with a 1 sentence, “Charles T. Bennett, 16, of Wondy Way, Danbury, passed away unexpectedly on Saturday evening, July 1, 2006”.
From that day on I was thrown in a whirlpool of events. Calling out of work, going to his dad’s house to help take care of Danny, telling our friend Frankie, the wake, the funeral, and finally the burial.
I tried all summer to forget, to never remember that I didn’t tell him I loved him and that he was the best friend I could have ever asked for.
The wounds have received from his passing still have not fully healed.
Through his death I have learned to always so “I love you” too often. Because you never know when one day you’ll turn around and they’ll be gone. Every so often I look up to the sky and wonder if he is up there, watching. I wonder if he knows everything now, if he truly understands. I wonder if he hears me when I speak to him. I have to believe that he does, that he really is up there, somewhere. Because if I don't, then that means that there is nothing after. Than he is just laying there......Such thoughts are forbid in my mind.
July 1st, the very beginning of summer. Summer ’06, it held such promise didn’t it? New people, new adventures, new times that I won’t ever remember.
I had plenty of nights I wouldn’t remember, trying to drown away the memory of what happened that day…
Chuck, my dearest friend, why did you have to go so soon? He was only 16 and had so much more to do! On that fateful night there was a fireworks show at Candlewood Lake, as there is every year. My foolish friend was drunk and he was stoned and decided to go swimming with his two brothers, Andrew, 19, and Danny, 11. After only a few minutes Andrew and Danny lost track of Chuck. They got out of the water, thinking that he had joined the crowd watching the display. They looked for him for 15 minutes before returning to the lake. Before finding him face down in the water 20 feet out from shore.
He had been such a good swimmer too.
When I got the call the next night that I would never see my best friend, my love ever again, I didn’t even cry. I dropped the phone, fell to my knees, my faced burned like I was going to cry but nothing came out. Nothing but an ear shattering scream. My dad came running, my mom slowly behind him. He shook me for a good 5 minutes, I’m told, yelling at me what was wrong, failing to make my screams stop.
When I finally found the words all I could utter was “Charles Bennett”. My parents had never met him and were bewildered as to my meaning. When my dad finally caught on he went to his computer and typed in his name and came up with a 1 sentence, “Charles T. Bennett, 16, of Wondy Way, Danbury, passed away unexpectedly on Saturday evening, July 1, 2006”.
From that day on I was thrown in a whirlpool of events. Calling out of work, going to his dad’s house to help take care of Danny, telling our friend Frankie, the wake, the funeral, and finally the burial.
I tried all summer to forget, to never remember that I didn’t tell him I loved him and that he was the best friend I could have ever asked for.
The wounds have received from his passing still have not fully healed.
Through his death I have learned to always so “I love you” too often. Because you never know when one day you’ll turn around and they’ll be gone. Every so often I look up to the sky and wonder if he is up there, watching. I wonder if he knows everything now, if he truly understands. I wonder if he hears me when I speak to him. I have to believe that he does, that he really is up there, somewhere. Because if I don't, then that means that there is nothing after. Than he is just laying there......Such thoughts are forbid in my mind.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Reilly Assignment
“Be tough as nails.”
Funny how such a simple statement can change the whole course of ones existence. She spoke these words to me when I was still just a little girl and never have I forgotten them. And I never will.
Yet now, it is my strength that cuts her so deep; my ability to keep even the kindest and most charming people out. It is something she had always wished for me, something she herself has perfected.
She is sick. Has been since she was diagnosed in 1984. Multiple Sclerosis, street name MS, believed to be an autoimmune disease (a disease in which the body attacks its own tissue). In MS, inflammation and scarring of myelin occurs. As a result certain nerve functions in the body slowly stop working. Much like AIDs it can not kill you. Rather complications that result from it or infections due to a lowered immune system do.
1984. Twenty three years. In that time she has bore and raise four children. Cooked for them, driven them to and from one activity or another, put up with their tantrums (that are quite frequent), given them advice and taught them never to take anything or anyone for granted.
I do not remember a time that she was healthy. And by healthy I mean able to walk on her own. Even at age four I’ve had to help her, one of my very first memories. MS takes away peoples ability to walk. Despite her handicap she is determined to be as independent as possible, something she prides herself on, even after surgeries.
However, now even that is slowly slipping away from her. Around mid-January she began to have severe pain scissor through her life. It occurred in her mouth. All of us believed that it was as simple as a root canal. Then it got so bad that she wasn’t even able to eat or talk without screaming in agony. She couldn’t sleep unless she was sitting up straight and even then after only an hour or so she’d jolt awake as another wave of anguish flooded her senses. Sometimes her cries woke me.
We soon discovered that it was not a root canal problem. In fact, it had nothing to do with her face, directly. It was her trigeminal nerve. This nerve controls sensations in the face. To stop the pain she was prescribed, yet another, pill. It killed the pain alright, and all independence she had. You see, it not only relaxes the trigeminal nerve but all nerves in her body. As a result all the benefits she was supposed to receive from all her surgeries (including a spinal tap) were reversed. Now she is constantly tired and unable to drive, cook, clean, everything she did everyday to stay semi-independent.
Now all her responsibilities fall on me, being the eldest and most reliable in the household (now that my older siblings have all grown up). I drive, cook, clean, I’m tough as nails just as she said I should be. But now that hurts her. Because whenever she reaches for me I pull back. No connection, no attachment, no pain for when she goes.
“Be tough as nails.”
Funny how such a simple statement can change the whole course of ones existence. She spoke these words to me when I was still just a little girl and never have I forgotten them. And I never will.
Yet now, it is my strength that cuts her so deep; my ability to keep even the kindest and most charming people out. It is something she had always wished for me, something she herself has perfected.
She is sick. Has been since she was diagnosed in 1984. Multiple Sclerosis, street name MS, believed to be an autoimmune disease (a disease in which the body attacks its own tissue). In MS, inflammation and scarring of myelin occurs. As a result certain nerve functions in the body slowly stop working. Much like AIDs it can not kill you. Rather complications that result from it or infections due to a lowered immune system do.
1984. Twenty three years. In that time she has bore and raise four children. Cooked for them, driven them to and from one activity or another, put up with their tantrums (that are quite frequent), given them advice and taught them never to take anything or anyone for granted.
I do not remember a time that she was healthy. And by healthy I mean able to walk on her own. Even at age four I’ve had to help her, one of my very first memories. MS takes away peoples ability to walk. Despite her handicap she is determined to be as independent as possible, something she prides herself on, even after surgeries.
However, now even that is slowly slipping away from her. Around mid-January she began to have severe pain scissor through her life. It occurred in her mouth. All of us believed that it was as simple as a root canal. Then it got so bad that she wasn’t even able to eat or talk without screaming in agony. She couldn’t sleep unless she was sitting up straight and even then after only an hour or so she’d jolt awake as another wave of anguish flooded her senses. Sometimes her cries woke me.
We soon discovered that it was not a root canal problem. In fact, it had nothing to do with her face, directly. It was her trigeminal nerve. This nerve controls sensations in the face. To stop the pain she was prescribed, yet another, pill. It killed the pain alright, and all independence she had. You see, it not only relaxes the trigeminal nerve but all nerves in her body. As a result all the benefits she was supposed to receive from all her surgeries (including a spinal tap) were reversed. Now she is constantly tired and unable to drive, cook, clean, everything she did everyday to stay semi-independent.
Now all her responsibilities fall on me, being the eldest and most reliable in the household (now that my older siblings have all grown up). I drive, cook, clean, I’m tough as nails just as she said I should be. But now that hurts her. Because whenever she reaches for me I pull back. No connection, no attachment, no pain for when she goes.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Land of Confusion- Disturbed
I must have dreamed a thousand dreams
Been haunted by a million screams
But I can hear the marching feet
They're moving into the street
Now, did you read the news today?
They say the danger has gone away
But I can see the fire's still alight
They're burning into the night
There's too many men, too many people
Making too many problems
And there's not much love to go around
Can't you see this is a land of confusion?
This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we're given
Use them and let's start trying
To make it a place worth living in
Oh, superman, where are you now?
When everything's gone wrong somehow?
The men of steel, these men of power
Are losing control by the hour
This is the time, this is the place
So we look for the future
But there's not much love to go around
Tell me why this is a land of confusion
This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we're given
Use them and let's start trying
To make it a place worth living in
I remember long ago
When the sun was shining
And all the stars were bright all through the night
In the wake of this madness, as I held you tight
So long ago
I won't be coming home tonight
My generation will put it right
We're not just making promises
That we know we'll never keep
There's too many men, too many people
Making too many problems
And there's not much love to go round
Can't you see this is a land of confusion?
Now, this is the world we live in
And these are the hands we're given
Use them and let's start trying
To make it a place worth fighting for
This is the world we live in
And these are the names we're given
Stand up and let's start showing
Just where our lives are going to
I must have dreamed a thousand dreams
Been haunted by a million screams
But I can hear the marching feet
They're moving into the street
Now, did you read the news today?
They say the danger has gone away
But I can see the fire's still alight
They're burning into the night
There's too many men, too many people
Making too many problems
And there's not much love to go around
Can't you see this is a land of confusion?
This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we're given
Use them and let's start trying
To make it a place worth living in
Oh, superman, where are you now?
When everything's gone wrong somehow?
The men of steel, these men of power
Are losing control by the hour
This is the time, this is the place
So we look for the future
But there's not much love to go around
Tell me why this is a land of confusion
This is the world we live in
And these are the hands we're given
Use them and let's start trying
To make it a place worth living in
I remember long ago
When the sun was shining
And all the stars were bright all through the night
In the wake of this madness, as I held you tight
So long ago
I won't be coming home tonight
My generation will put it right
We're not just making promises
That we know we'll never keep
There's too many men, too many people
Making too many problems
And there's not much love to go round
Can't you see this is a land of confusion?
Now, this is the world we live in
And these are the hands we're given
Use them and let's start trying
To make it a place worth fighting for
This is the world we live in
And these are the names we're given
Stand up and let's start showing
Just where our lives are going to
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
E. E. Cummings Assignment
it may not always be so; and i say
it may not always be so;and i say
that if your lips,which i have loved,should touch
another's,and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart,as mine in time not far away;
if on another's face your sweet hair lay
in such a silence as i know,or such
great writhing words as,uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;
if this should be,i say if this should be-
you of my heart,send me a little word;
that i may go unto him,and take his hands,
saying,Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face,and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands.
life may not always play nicely;the wind whispered
soon the walls will close in,surrounding you laughing,bitterly
mocking, you unable to see what which way to run
for help,the one you once believed was love;holds the lever that is now controlling your end
echoing you’ll scream,and sob
i love you i love you,help help help,
The wind will grin evilly at you demise;
when life refuses to play fair, fair by its own limits-
surround your dear heart,make it cold ice;
hard granite stone,become cold and unfeeling,
laugh at doom,Fear not one thing.
then kiss the hand that beats,catch him off guard
and crush him with the walls, whispered the wind.
it may not always be so; and i say
it may not always be so;and i say
that if your lips,which i have loved,should touch
another's,and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart,as mine in time not far away;
if on another's face your sweet hair lay
in such a silence as i know,or such
great writhing words as,uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;
if this should be,i say if this should be-
you of my heart,send me a little word;
that i may go unto him,and take his hands,
saying,Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face,and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands.
life may not always play nicely;the wind whispered
soon the walls will close in,surrounding you laughing,bitterly
mocking, you unable to see what which way to run
for help,the one you once believed was love;holds the lever that is now controlling your end
echoing you’ll scream,and sob
i love you i love you,help help help,
The wind will grin evilly at you demise;
when life refuses to play fair, fair by its own limits-
surround your dear heart,make it cold ice;
hard granite stone,become cold and unfeeling,
laugh at doom,Fear not one thing.
then kiss the hand that beats,catch him off guard
and crush him with the walls, whispered the wind.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Lee
Applause and cheers echo in the
Long hall as the beginning of a new journey
Begins.
She meets his eyes
Mirroring his starry filled gaze with her own
She watches him pass by her
A new journey begins.
Standing she follows as she always has,
Wondering
What will become of them? Everything
Will be different
He takes his place and she hers at the
Snow white table
So elegant, so deceiving
She accepts his hand
The hand of a master
And gracefully, regretfully
Glides with him across the
Icy floor.
A new journey begins
Applause and cheers echo in the
Long hall as the beginning of a new journey
Begins.
She meets his eyes
Mirroring his starry filled gaze with her own
She watches him pass by her
A new journey begins.
Standing she follows as she always has,
Wondering
What will become of them? Everything
Will be different
He takes his place and she hers at the
Snow white table
So elegant, so deceiving
She accepts his hand
The hand of a master
And gracefully, regretfully
Glides with him across the
Icy floor.
A new journey begins
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Independent Writing #2
So this piece was interesting to write. I started out really slow because I didn't know where I wanted to take it. I wasn't really sure how to show what the speaker was going through. Once I got into it it started to come easier and just started flowing and it got harder to stop writing.
Hard to start, harder to stop. Um I read a book a few years ago and it was the inspiration. I don't remember the name but it was about a persons regret over their actions that led to a tragic outcome.
Too Late
To the one I loved too late,
I’m sorry. I never meant to cause you all the pain that you have felt that year. I didn’t know. You were so hard to reach but yet so easy to talk to.
I’ll never forget how you saved my life that glooming night. I was living in the dark then. Not knowing truth or happiness, or love. You were the sun then. I was a scared child, not yet grown and you burned me with the heat of your passion and the light of your truth.
You are honest and caring and loving. Everything I wished for me to find and yet didn’t believed that I deserved. I pushed you away. Shoved you into the hole you are now in and I wish to God I could pull you out. My hand is stretched out. Let me save you like you saved me!
I come to see you every week. And every week it is all the same. You don’t move. No comfort comes from you anymore. No hope. No love. No warmth escapes your body. I speak but you don’t respond or give me any inclination that you hear me.
I do not even know how to begin to explain my feelings; this angst that has been eating away at me for months.
I regret nothing and yet everything. I do not regret any second that we spend together. And yet I regret not being able to let you go. I do not regret anything I have done that has caused me happiness yet I do because it has caused you pain.
I wish you would talk to me! Let me know that you hear me! That you forgive me! That you did, do, and will always love me! As I love you!!
I know that you will never be able to respond. To heal this pain that I feel anymore than you can heal yourself. I also know that you will never read this. So why am I writing it? Have I gone so insane that I have lost all realization of this? This past several months have I become so emotional disturbed that I have forgotten why exactly you can not respond? Have I forgotten what happened to you? What did happen to you? None of us really know! Why would you have been so foolish! Why didn’t you ask any of us for help? Why did you disappear? Why didn’t you tell us what was going on? We were supposed to close, closer than family, that’s what we always said! We always promised never to let anything pull us apart! So why did you! Why did you let him take you away? Why didn’t you fight harder? Why did you leave us all in such pain and emptiness? Alone to grieve and wonder and go crazy out of uncertainty! You always said you’d change the world. Is this the way you did it? Had you always planned this? Why? I ask myself everyday why, why? Why weren’t we enough? Why didn’t you want to fight for us? Why did you have to go?? Why. Why…..
You haunt me thoughts and my dreams. There is no escape from you. Do I deserve such torture? I can not sleep because I see you slipping away from us over and over and over like a movie that I hate but just cant stop watching! I wish I could change the ending, I know what is going to happen but I can’t do anything to stop it!!
And if I stay awake my thoughts wander to places I can not even tell you although I’m sure you already know.
My God, I am losing my mind…
So this piece was interesting to write. I started out really slow because I didn't know where I wanted to take it. I wasn't really sure how to show what the speaker was going through. Once I got into it it started to come easier and just started flowing and it got harder to stop writing.
Hard to start, harder to stop. Um I read a book a few years ago and it was the inspiration. I don't remember the name but it was about a persons regret over their actions that led to a tragic outcome.
Too Late
To the one I loved too late,
I’m sorry. I never meant to cause you all the pain that you have felt that year. I didn’t know. You were so hard to reach but yet so easy to talk to.
I’ll never forget how you saved my life that glooming night. I was living in the dark then. Not knowing truth or happiness, or love. You were the sun then. I was a scared child, not yet grown and you burned me with the heat of your passion and the light of your truth.
You are honest and caring and loving. Everything I wished for me to find and yet didn’t believed that I deserved. I pushed you away. Shoved you into the hole you are now in and I wish to God I could pull you out. My hand is stretched out. Let me save you like you saved me!
I come to see you every week. And every week it is all the same. You don’t move. No comfort comes from you anymore. No hope. No love. No warmth escapes your body. I speak but you don’t respond or give me any inclination that you hear me.
I do not even know how to begin to explain my feelings; this angst that has been eating away at me for months.
I regret nothing and yet everything. I do not regret any second that we spend together. And yet I regret not being able to let you go. I do not regret anything I have done that has caused me happiness yet I do because it has caused you pain.
I wish you would talk to me! Let me know that you hear me! That you forgive me! That you did, do, and will always love me! As I love you!!
I know that you will never be able to respond. To heal this pain that I feel anymore than you can heal yourself. I also know that you will never read this. So why am I writing it? Have I gone so insane that I have lost all realization of this? This past several months have I become so emotional disturbed that I have forgotten why exactly you can not respond? Have I forgotten what happened to you? What did happen to you? None of us really know! Why would you have been so foolish! Why didn’t you ask any of us for help? Why did you disappear? Why didn’t you tell us what was going on? We were supposed to close, closer than family, that’s what we always said! We always promised never to let anything pull us apart! So why did you! Why did you let him take you away? Why didn’t you fight harder? Why did you leave us all in such pain and emptiness? Alone to grieve and wonder and go crazy out of uncertainty! You always said you’d change the world. Is this the way you did it? Had you always planned this? Why? I ask myself everyday why, why? Why weren’t we enough? Why didn’t you want to fight for us? Why did you have to go?? Why. Why…..
You haunt me thoughts and my dreams. There is no escape from you. Do I deserve such torture? I can not sleep because I see you slipping away from us over and over and over like a movie that I hate but just cant stop watching! I wish I could change the ending, I know what is going to happen but I can’t do anything to stop it!!
And if I stay awake my thoughts wander to places I can not even tell you although I’m sure you already know.
My God, I am losing my mind…
Friday, February 09, 2007
Vonnegut
Three guys, all attractive, all sweet, all interested in her. Mike, her current boyfriend by definition, was a really great guy. He treated her exactly the way she should be, like a princess. He spoiled her, told her how great she was, how beautiful she was. Of course she already knew that.
Then there was Chris. Older, much older Chris. Age is just a number right? What does it matter if a guy is three or four……or seven years older? He made more money than Mike did. And lived less than three and half hours away. Plus he could buy her the alcohol and cigarettes that she lived on.
Lastly there was Frank. Wild, rebellious, dangerous Frank. He could turn her head any way possible, and he knew it. She shivered whenever he was near. He read her and she read him. They were one of a kind. No one had ever made her feel the way he did. There would never another like him. But, like Mike, lived over two hours away.
“None of them know each other; have any idea about the other, live near each other.” Why choose now? No harm in ‘playing the field’ a little bite. I’m still young!”
With that she hoped into her car.
Three guys, all attractive, all sweet, all interested in her. Mike, her current boyfriend by definition, was a really great guy. He treated her exactly the way she should be, like a princess. He spoiled her, told her how great she was, how beautiful she was. Of course she already knew that.
Then there was Chris. Older, much older Chris. Age is just a number right? What does it matter if a guy is three or four……or seven years older? He made more money than Mike did. And lived less than three and half hours away. Plus he could buy her the alcohol and cigarettes that she lived on.
Lastly there was Frank. Wild, rebellious, dangerous Frank. He could turn her head any way possible, and he knew it. She shivered whenever he was near. He read her and she read him. They were one of a kind. No one had ever made her feel the way he did. There would never another like him. But, like Mike, lived over two hours away.
“None of them know each other; have any idea about the other, live near each other.” Why choose now? No harm in ‘playing the field’ a little bite. I’m still young!”
With that she hoped into her car.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Independent Writing #1
So I’m not going to lie. I wrote this in about ten to fifteen minutes, if that. I had no inspiration other than my friend Chuck’s death but it was not due to the same reason as noted in this piece. I kind of just sat down at my computer and felt like writing something depressing (No, not because I’m depressed mind you), hoping to shock you all. Let me know if it does? So if you don’t like it then please don’t comment, ‘kay thanks. I really like the last sentence a lot because it is just sort of a slam in the face. But I’m not sure if anything before that is any good. This isn’t like most of writing so don’t be afraid. I was experimenting with switching from first person point of view to third person point of view; let me know if it doesn’t works.
Guilty Soul
They all seemed so distant. It was as if I was out of my body, watching the scene unfold.
“I’m sorry Sid, but this isn’t working. You live in Cali for Gods sake! That’s three thousand miles away! We’ve been with each other once in the past three months. I’m sorry.” She desperately was trying to explain why she was tearing his life apart.
He remained silent for a long time. The silence was maddening. Just as she was about to scream his lips parted and a soft gasp escaped from him, as if from a dying man.
“I understand,” was all he said, all he could say.
They continued to sit there for a long time, both consumed by their own thoughts. Perhaps they were revisiting the past when things worked, when they loved each other, when they were each others number one. But like they say, you cannot recreate the past.
For a week both of them just kind of drifted through life. Thinking, wondering, wishing. After awhile it seemed that everything was ok. Better even. They talked every night about what had happened and hope for the future. Maybe they would work once more.
I even found myself falling back in love with him. Or maybe for the first time? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that my heart couldn’t stop singing.
My heart thudded with guilt as his coffin softly hit the moist earth.
Comments
Kat! I loved this one. The ending was really a good, abrupt, slap in the face sort of thing. Just when you thought it was going to end happily, it didn’t! Really good though. I LOVED THIS PIECE. Probably my favorite so far. Good job Kat! <3>
Hey Kathleen this is good! Loved the ending very intense I liked it. You’re a good writer. ~Sara H
So I’m not going to lie. I wrote this in about ten to fifteen minutes, if that. I had no inspiration other than my friend Chuck’s death but it was not due to the same reason as noted in this piece. I kind of just sat down at my computer and felt like writing something depressing (No, not because I’m depressed mind you), hoping to shock you all. Let me know if it does? So if you don’t like it then please don’t comment, ‘kay thanks. I really like the last sentence a lot because it is just sort of a slam in the face. But I’m not sure if anything before that is any good. This isn’t like most of writing so don’t be afraid. I was experimenting with switching from first person point of view to third person point of view; let me know if it doesn’t works.
Guilty Soul
They all seemed so distant. It was as if I was out of my body, watching the scene unfold.
“I’m sorry Sid, but this isn’t working. You live in Cali for Gods sake! That’s three thousand miles away! We’ve been with each other once in the past three months. I’m sorry.” She desperately was trying to explain why she was tearing his life apart.
He remained silent for a long time. The silence was maddening. Just as she was about to scream his lips parted and a soft gasp escaped from him, as if from a dying man.
“I understand,” was all he said, all he could say.
They continued to sit there for a long time, both consumed by their own thoughts. Perhaps they were revisiting the past when things worked, when they loved each other, when they were each others number one. But like they say, you cannot recreate the past.
For a week both of them just kind of drifted through life. Thinking, wondering, wishing. After awhile it seemed that everything was ok. Better even. They talked every night about what had happened and hope for the future. Maybe they would work once more.
I even found myself falling back in love with him. Or maybe for the first time? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that my heart couldn’t stop singing.
My heart thudded with guilt as his coffin softly hit the moist earth.
Comments
Kat! I loved this one. The ending was really a good, abrupt, slap in the face sort of thing. Just when you thought it was going to end happily, it didn’t! Really good though. I LOVED THIS PIECE. Probably my favorite so far. Good job Kat! <3>
Hey Kathleen this is good! Loved the ending very intense I liked it. You’re a good writer. ~Sara H
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Hemmingway
The whole room was a battle scene. Everywhere you looked there were things clashing, striking, and fighting for the main focus. My eyes settled, as usual, onto my favorite poster of Marilyn Manson, dark and glooming, it thrusts itself away from the bright peach colored wall, declaring its individuality. It was her biggest eyesore, I knew, she and I had fought about it repeatedly. She had even stooped to begging me to remove it.
“Will you throw that damn thing out already?” She exclaimed.
I remained silent and unmoving, waiting.
“Are you going to move at all? Or blink? Why do you care about that thing so damn much!?”
At this I turned my gaze off the poster and met her glare straight on and yet said nothing.
“Say something!”
“Something,” I smirked.
At this she gave her usual frustrated growl and turned and stormed out of the room. Knowing she would return within the hour, I sat back down and stared at my poster once again. For a long time I did nothing, I don’t even think to I blinked. Then slowly I stood and gently, as if removing a sacred painting, took down my destroyed poster, folded it over six or seven times and placed it into the garbage bin. Then I sat back down and stared at the empty space on the wall.
The whole room was a battle scene. Everywhere you looked there were things clashing, striking, and fighting for the main focus. My eyes settled, as usual, onto my favorite poster of Marilyn Manson, dark and glooming, it thrusts itself away from the bright peach colored wall, declaring its individuality. It was her biggest eyesore, I knew, she and I had fought about it repeatedly. She had even stooped to begging me to remove it.
“Will you throw that damn thing out already?” She exclaimed.
I remained silent and unmoving, waiting.
“Are you going to move at all? Or blink? Why do you care about that thing so damn much!?”
At this I turned my gaze off the poster and met her glare straight on and yet said nothing.
“Say something!”
“Something,” I smirked.
At this she gave her usual frustrated growl and turned and stormed out of the room. Knowing she would return within the hour, I sat back down and stared at my poster once again. For a long time I did nothing, I don’t even think to I blinked. Then slowly I stood and gently, as if removing a sacred painting, took down my destroyed poster, folded it over six or seven times and placed it into the garbage bin. Then I sat back down and stared at the empty space on the wall.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
