I have always loved collecting rocks, even from the time I was a little kid. It drove my mother crazy. Now, I have four coffee cans and at least five other miscellaneous containers full of rocks that I have no idea what to do with. They take up a surprising amount of space. But don't... Continue Reading →
Dear younger me, It's not your fault. You were so soft. I can see it all in your eyes as you take every bit of blame to heart. Every bit of blame that didn't belong to you. Sweet child, I can still see you holding that letter. Holding it like an eggshell, your fingertips barely... Continue Reading →
So it's second period block and I'm supposed to be working on an essay about the government and the economy. But since I procrastinate on writing essays by writing other things, here I am, not doing my gov. essay. This state is my form of senioritis, so, you know, it could be worse. But we... Continue Reading →
Since my other poem was scathing enough that I burnt my fingers rereading it, I decided to write another one that I hope is much more tender. Take up the burden of an open heart-- Though heavy and painful it may be. Kindness is life-giving. Selflessness, hope. But at extremes these acts come at a... Continue Reading →
I love writing; it is my passion. If anyone has ever been born to write, it is me. When I was young and "too shy," talking to people, strangers or friends, was intimidating and impossible. My thoughts and opinions were trapped behind a fear I didn't know how to overcome. I had so much to... Continue Reading →
To dream or not to dream--that is what everyone must decide: Whether 'tis nobler to risk the fall to fly, to work, to fight, to dance, to reach, to die. Or to risk the label 'fool,' to be a child, to hope. To dream is to accept the perception childish, foolish. But to dream is... Continue Reading →
While stars burn bright as fire to be as warm as night...
Diligence and devotion and apathy bleed into grey, like watered-down black ink seeps into pure white paper; all is grey. And empty and full, and falling apart and coming together. All at once.
I've fallen absolutely in love with The Great Gatsby, and F. Scott Fitzgerald's writing in general. Gatsby's tale contains a myriad of lessons to be learned, specifically regarding the handling of wealth and people and so forth. But the most prominent of these lessons is how we should treat the past. The past should be cherished.... Continue Reading →
I walked along And long I walked, and came across Two roads, two paths, one wide, one narrow One to joy, and one to sorrow. One with many, and one with few. I chose the joy, I chose the narrow. I walked along And long I walked, the road grew coarse, the stones sharp,... Continue Reading →
A Study in Crimson Prose 