I love my ginger.
He makes me smile.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Ugh
History final essay tomorrow.
It's kind of depressing seeing that it is signaling the end of our school year. This means I'll be a senior soon and this time next year I will be getting ready to graduate and head of to college, to the rest of my life.
It gets me so nostalgic.
I'm going to miss high school.
oh and the stuff I have been posting is a little story I'm writing.
Leave some thoughts.
:)
It's kind of depressing seeing that it is signaling the end of our school year. This means I'll be a senior soon and this time next year I will be getting ready to graduate and head of to college, to the rest of my life.
It gets me so nostalgic.
I'm going to miss high school.
oh and the stuff I have been posting is a little story I'm writing.
Leave some thoughts.
:)
Monday, May 18, 2009
3
Sam dragged the hesitant Caleb down the empty street; his thin frame was tense, apprehensive of where his friend was leading him. His dark hair fell over his eyes as Sam pulled harder, pulling him faster behind her, her brown eyes shimmering, excitement glowing. Caleb was almost used to this. Sam had always acted compulsively. If she could guess or wander through life, she would be perfectly okay.
A cold breeze shook Caleb’s thoughts from his head.
“I wish I had brought a hoodie.”
The faint echo of an early morning bird’s call sounded through Sam’s ears.
“Come on, Caleb,” she frustratingly beckoned.
Caleb sped up to fall in stride beside her. The sun was just starting to peek over the lonely clouds. The sky was a dark navy, paired with a lighter blue as it stretched to the horizon.
Just as the sun started to lift itself higher, Sam led Caleb into the small wooded area off to the left of the street. The branches grabbed at their ankles but their steps persevered. The newly established sun was dampened by the trees. Caleb dared not ask where they were going, he already knew. They were going Nowhere. They always went Nowhere. Nowhere was the place where they could be together and be immune from the world’s problems, their problems.
Sam slowed to a stop as the clearing approached. The sun filtered through the apertures in the green covering. The ground was barren, ready to begin growth, with a fallen tree hanging gently, hovering, just over the dirt floor. Sam journeyed over to the fallen structure. Swiftly lifting her small frame onto the tree, she took a breath and looked around. Caleb savored the warm sunlight on his arms. He loved Nowhere.
No one spoke. The sound of silence rang through their heads. No one dared spoil the serenity of Nowhere.
A small chipmunk rustled through the brush, into the clearing. The sudden disturbance startled Sam, the action knocking her off balance and onto the hard ground.
Caleb laughed at her.
“Shut up Caleb,” she scolded, cursing him under her breath.
“You love it,” Caleb told her, smiling wide and crossing his arms.
“I don’t,” Sam disagreed, standing up and brushing herself off.
“Oh, but you love me,” Caleb countered.
“Lies. I don’t love you,” Sam turned away smiling.
Caleb didn’t speak. Sam stood with her back turned, eyes fixed on the distant tree that protruded into the missing sunlight.
She suddenly felt a warm touch around her waist, a familiar breath on her neck/
“You love me now?” Caleb whispered, his hands intertwined around the front of her waist, resting softly on her white belt.
Sam felt that flutter in her stomach. The all too familiar feeling she always got with Caleb when they went to Nowhere. She knew what it meant. She knew what it meant.
“Maybe,” was all she could understandably mumble.
Caleb laughed, “Maybe huh? Only, maybe?”
“Mhm,” Sam whispered, her eyes shutting, leaving Caleb’s body to support her body weight.
Caleb lifted his head, placing his chin on the top of her head, he smiled. He loved Nowhere.
A cold breeze shook Caleb’s thoughts from his head.
“I wish I had brought a hoodie.”
The faint echo of an early morning bird’s call sounded through Sam’s ears.
“Come on, Caleb,” she frustratingly beckoned.
Caleb sped up to fall in stride beside her. The sun was just starting to peek over the lonely clouds. The sky was a dark navy, paired with a lighter blue as it stretched to the horizon.
Just as the sun started to lift itself higher, Sam led Caleb into the small wooded area off to the left of the street. The branches grabbed at their ankles but their steps persevered. The newly established sun was dampened by the trees. Caleb dared not ask where they were going, he already knew. They were going Nowhere. They always went Nowhere. Nowhere was the place where they could be together and be immune from the world’s problems, their problems.
Sam slowed to a stop as the clearing approached. The sun filtered through the apertures in the green covering. The ground was barren, ready to begin growth, with a fallen tree hanging gently, hovering, just over the dirt floor. Sam journeyed over to the fallen structure. Swiftly lifting her small frame onto the tree, she took a breath and looked around. Caleb savored the warm sunlight on his arms. He loved Nowhere.
No one spoke. The sound of silence rang through their heads. No one dared spoil the serenity of Nowhere.
A small chipmunk rustled through the brush, into the clearing. The sudden disturbance startled Sam, the action knocking her off balance and onto the hard ground.
Caleb laughed at her.
“Shut up Caleb,” she scolded, cursing him under her breath.
“You love it,” Caleb told her, smiling wide and crossing his arms.
“I don’t,” Sam disagreed, standing up and brushing herself off.
“Oh, but you love me,” Caleb countered.
“Lies. I don’t love you,” Sam turned away smiling.
Caleb didn’t speak. Sam stood with her back turned, eyes fixed on the distant tree that protruded into the missing sunlight.
She suddenly felt a warm touch around her waist, a familiar breath on her neck/
“You love me now?” Caleb whispered, his hands intertwined around the front of her waist, resting softly on her white belt.
Sam felt that flutter in her stomach. The all too familiar feeling she always got with Caleb when they went to Nowhere. She knew what it meant. She knew what it meant.
“Maybe,” was all she could understandably mumble.
Caleb laughed, “Maybe huh? Only, maybe?”
“Mhm,” Sam whispered, her eyes shutting, leaving Caleb’s body to support her body weight.
Caleb lifted his head, placing his chin on the top of her head, he smiled. He loved Nowhere.
...continued
They had been best friends forever, before the drama, before the pain, before the tears. They shared preschool toys as their moms talked of how they would get married one day. They were too young and innocent. They went to school together. They went to the mall together. They went to dances together. They got their licenses together. Although their interests differed as they aged, they stayed the same. No secrets were hid; their hearts open books, only to each other. Practically blood related, she could never live without him. He loved her. They were too young and innocent.
Sam only patted the cooling ground beside her. Her eyes never fluttered, her lips never faltered. He lowered himself down onto the rocky street beside her; her warmth comforted his side as he lay down next to her.
“Don’t you miss the way things used to be?” Sam questioned a moment later.
He only shrugged.
Sam sat up and smiled her huge, glowing smile. Her eyes beckoned him to follow.
“Come on Caleb, I miss our adventures.”
Sam only patted the cooling ground beside her. Her eyes never fluttered, her lips never faltered. He lowered himself down onto the rocky street beside her; her warmth comforted his side as he lay down next to her.
“Don’t you miss the way things used to be?” Sam questioned a moment later.
He only shrugged.
Sam sat up and smiled her huge, glowing smile. Her eyes beckoned him to follow.
“Come on Caleb, I miss our adventures.”
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
I think I'm ready
[[Danger Radio-Slow Dance With A Stranger]]
-June, 2008
-Stone Pony, Asbury Park
I think I'm ready to start this again.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Samantha slipped quietly out of the booming house. The music was too loud, the people were too drunk, the scene was too familiar. Samantha fumbled through her pockets for her car keys, only to remember they were comfortably sitting on the kitchen counter of a person who is friends with her friend. Samantha sighed to herself and just decided to walk, she didn't want to go back inside. Samantha slowly scuffed her feet to the rhythm of her heartbeats to pass the time. She thought about people, she thought about places, she thought about things, she thought about about how much she hated when people called her Samantha.
Sam had always been called Sam. Her mother started calling her that when Sam was only a month old; this bouncy newborn never seemed like a Samantha, her mother said. Her mother called her Sam to the day she died. Even in the cold, bleak hospital bed, the mattress groaning, ready to give in with every movement, Sam's mother called to her, talked to her, calling her Sam and nothing else.
Sam's dad, on the other hand, never called her Sam. She had been lucky he spoke to her at all. He was never one for conversations. After Sam's mother died, her dad stayed to himself, blaming Sam, like he did for everything. He cooped himself up in his musty study and hibernated there for eternity. Sam never really saw him after that day. She was seven.
Her foot caught a small pebble and sent it flying into the th, warm air. Sam gazed into the starless sky. She wondered where the stars went sometimes. It's like they're hiding from me, she always thought, only appearing for those who deserved them. A cool breeze whipped down the calm street. It was after midnight. Sam had lost track of time; she never really kept track of anything. School just happened, work just happened, friends just happened, life, just happened. At this moment, Sam had wished she had remembered to grab her hoodie. She missed the warmth.
Sam rubbed her arms gingerly and kept onward. She figured maybe someone would drive by this lonesome street at whatever time it was and find her and pick her up. Maybe, she thought, someone would kidnap her and force someone to care. She sighed at the thought. Tucking a piece of her long brown hair behind her ear, she crossed her arms and looked down the street. No cars where coming. Sam took the opportunity to walk in the street. Sam put her face toward the sky and closed her eyes. Imagining. Wishing. Hoping. Sam stopped walking. Stopped imagining. Stopped wishing. Stopped hoping. Sam sat, then lied down, spread eagle, on the warm gravel of this recently abandoned New York street. She let the cool breeze ripple through her. Her hair blew in the wind. Her eyes never opening. The warmth from the August road sifted through her back as the cool wind crept slowly into her stomach. Sam tried to block the feelings, the thoughts, the regrets.
"Sam?"
Sam had always been called Sam. Her mother started calling her that when Sam was only a month old; this bouncy newborn never seemed like a Samantha, her mother said. Her mother called her Sam to the day she died. Even in the cold, bleak hospital bed, the mattress groaning, ready to give in with every movement, Sam's mother called to her, talked to her, calling her Sam and nothing else.
Sam's dad, on the other hand, never called her Sam. She had been lucky he spoke to her at all. He was never one for conversations. After Sam's mother died, her dad stayed to himself, blaming Sam, like he did for everything. He cooped himself up in his musty study and hibernated there for eternity. Sam never really saw him after that day. She was seven.
Her foot caught a small pebble and sent it flying into the th, warm air. Sam gazed into the starless sky. She wondered where the stars went sometimes. It's like they're hiding from me, she always thought, only appearing for those who deserved them. A cool breeze whipped down the calm street. It was after midnight. Sam had lost track of time; she never really kept track of anything. School just happened, work just happened, friends just happened, life, just happened. At this moment, Sam had wished she had remembered to grab her hoodie. She missed the warmth.
Sam rubbed her arms gingerly and kept onward. She figured maybe someone would drive by this lonesome street at whatever time it was and find her and pick her up. Maybe, she thought, someone would kidnap her and force someone to care. She sighed at the thought. Tucking a piece of her long brown hair behind her ear, she crossed her arms and looked down the street. No cars where coming. Sam took the opportunity to walk in the street. Sam put her face toward the sky and closed her eyes. Imagining. Wishing. Hoping. Sam stopped walking. Stopped imagining. Stopped wishing. Stopped hoping. Sam sat, then lied down, spread eagle, on the warm gravel of this recently abandoned New York street. She let the cool breeze ripple through her. Her hair blew in the wind. Her eyes never opening. The warmth from the August road sifted through her back as the cool wind crept slowly into her stomach. Sam tried to block the feelings, the thoughts, the regrets.
"Sam?"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
