January 2011
1 post
3 tags
September 2008
3 posts
“It seems like you never know what you’re doing when it’s important...”
“What does it mean to go to school at a place where you’re never alone?” - Also from the article mentioned from the previous post.
Never alone? You can be at a party, 40 people smiling and eating around you and be alone. You can be sleeping with ten people breathing next to you and be alone. Alone isn’t just physical; alone is a mental state. Alone can mean loneliness or simply...
wylie:
It’s easy to talk about whatever it is you do all day.
And it’s hard not to.
August 2008
4 posts
D: I can't remember what I've forgotten.
C: That's usually the case. It bugs me, too.
Aunt Gussie's Walnut Snowballs
You know you’ve made a good cookie when someone requests the recipe, in this case for “Aunt Gussie’s Walnut Snowballs.” I don’t actually have an Aunt Gussie, but I did have a 4th grade teacher dearer to me than any aunt, who gave me a cookbook as a parting gift when I left for New Jersey.
From Good Old-Fashioned Cookies, by Susan Kosoff.
3/4 cup unsalted butter,...
When it comes to my cookies, with a few exceptions, females can be classified as will eat one of my cookies and will not eat one of my cookies. Males can be classified as will eat one of my cookies, and will come back for another.
Goes for a lot of my food, I’m afraid. But today I rolled up my sleeves and concocted some lovely walnut balls, dusted them with confectioners’ sugar and...
I have to admit, however, that the definition Urban Dictionary cooked up is often more apropos. “A meandering, blatantly uninteresting online diary that gives the author the illusion that people are interested in their stupid, pathetic life. Consists of such riveting entries as ‘homework sucks’ and ‘I slept until noon today’.” - Waiter Rant Tumblrs, like blogs, give the writer a certain sort...
July 2008
3 posts
Usually it’s a little black ant that visits, but today it was a little green one. Light green, as if I could run my tongue across his pleated back and taste the sharp tang of grass. But he, I shall call it he, to do him or her more courtesy than for him to merely be an it. How could he be an it, wriggling from side to side between the fine hairs of my arm, just enough to send a delicate...
D: I don't suppose life will ever be the same again. Just a thought.
C: No, it won't ever be the same again.
Svetlana
A friend of a friend said something that my friend passed on to me. About loves passing each other before they meet each other. I raised an eyebrow and brushed it off.
Till I fell in love. With a girl that I lost as a friend in 2nd grade for being… well, a girl. The cooties sort of thing. Before that we played the aimless games of childhood, clambering onto the sturdy swings of...
June 2008
2 posts
Raw voice of many months ago, straining to sing...
So it’s raining like crazy and thundering and lightning like crazy Power barely clinging on as the lights flicker After a little dinner I just walked out Outside through the front door and walked down the street I thought that it would be the sort of day we’d wander off to the meadow Even though we’d get soaked soaked soaked Hugging our knees to ourselves buried in the wet...
May 2008
1 post
And you are my hope and my tower, my shadow and my guide. Sparks glitter between us, casting every light to your figure to encompass every facet of this delicate union. Even as night creeps beneath, the dark veneers melt away in an unspoken bond of trust to keep faith till dawn shines upon our love.
April 2008
2 posts
“The hardest thing about this point in life is that you want to do everything -...”
– Dominick, on youth
Creamy white wires peek out through the soft dirty blond curls of a friendly looking boy reclining in his seat. A petite Asian girl with short black hair turns to look at him inquisitively. He immediately straightens and meets her gaze with his light blue eyes, piercing spritely through the curls that playfully threaten to completely conceal his eyebrows. She points curiously to an earbud,...
Clementines for Elise
He peels the clementine carefully, spinning it clockwise as he removes a thin spiral of bright orange peel. The wedges are pulled apart slowly, and he savors the exquisite sweetness cautiously as if it might crumble in his mouth. It’s savored and gone, and he picks up another from the package, then stops. These are the best I’ve tasted, and Elise likes clementines, he thinks. The...
March 2008
10 posts
“He lets the melody ripple gladly through him, like a laughing brook freed from...”
– Ethrane
3 tags
Some of my first years were spent in Brooklyn, NY on Avenue U above a little Chinese grocery shop. They were all Chinese shops on Avenue U, in fact, but I never learned how to speak Chinese, save for “bi zui” - shut up, and worse things that my sister whispered to me. I loved the city as a child born there would, with the bustling streets, tall grey buildings, and the old Chinese...
2 tags
What I'd Like
I’d like a day with a friend. When the sun shines just brightly enough to whisk away the cold, and the soft breeze is strong enough to stir life into the verdant grasses. The delectable red of maple tree blossoms, hiding the similarly hued birds chirping their delight. A whole day, from early dawn to late dusk, just the two of us together. We’d talk and we’d walk, barefoot...
1 tag
Anger for me is hot tears that betray me as they fall, eyes swollen, head pounding in an iron vice. Anger for me is hurt and pain and regret, waking up to find scars on my hands and the wisp of a nightmare. So I cannot be angry. I am sad, or I am nothing, and I remember no happiness in my childhood save for brief moments watching my sister laugh as I tickled her. But that was my sister’s...
4 tags
Melancholy
“Where would you like to vacation this summer?” his dad asks kindly. “I don’t care,” he says simply. “We just want you to be happy,” his dad states. And the son shrugs and thinks of all the things that are wrong with a vacation; the loneliness and the unfamiliarity, the strange smells and strange places, and being caught somewhere he can’t say all...
2 tags
Scars
He gasps great silent sobs, folding over, digging his nails deep into his flesh. The puny pain of sharp nails against the pain of so many scars opening afresh, the bitter tears of again, again, again, and he heaves and is not relieved. His parents do not understand that they scarred him long ago. A child remembers when he is hit, even if it did not leave deep welts and cuts. A child remembers the...
2 tags
Away From Me
Have you ever huddled on the shores of a neverending sea at night, shivering in the mighty crash of the dark sea surf? A tempest roars, threatening the flickers of light glimmering in each shimmering white crest of salty brine. Waves shudder and furl back into the sea, flailing beneath the power of the lashing winds. My love shudders too, cascades against cascades, broken by the cruel storm. It...
2 tags
Words, tumbling immeasurably over each other. Words, smothered silently. Words, leaping forth subtly from those smothered ones. When you speak to me you ask for me. You ask for those smothered words. And I shake in fear, shake till those words arise, crying to me, let me go! Let me go! The traitors fade from glory, but their echoes taunt me into the night.
1 tag
An atheist's creed
wylie: asprettyasasong, atheistramblings, brigno: I believe in time, matter, and energy, which make up the whole of the world. I believe in reason, evidence and the human mind, the only tools we have; they are the product of natural forces in a majestic but impersonal universe, grander and richer than we can imagine, a source of endless opportunities for discovery. I believe in the power of...
February 2008
2 posts
1 tag
“This pale phantom shudders and is extinguished in a breath.”
– Ethrane
1 tag
The greatest things in life we deserve, because even the ugliest things are beautiful at least once. And so a broken love story is beautiful not because the fragments are scattered gracefully, but because the fragments still breathe the air of the past.
December 2007
1 post
3 tags
Night
Oddly enough, it’s 4 AM in the morning and I’m still wide awake. I flick off the lights in my bedroom and sit on the edge of my bed. Somehow it isn’t cold in my pajamas. Somehow, despite just turning off the lights, my night vision is clear and I can see the shadowy furniture. I close my eyes. Slowly I begin to rock backwards and forwards. I was told once that this would help you...
March 2007
1 post
2 tags
“Your words lie there unspoken, struggling faintly in their dreams of living...”
– Ethrane
February 2007
1 post
2 tags
Deception
Deception is dangerous, for the mask you take on begins to twist you, even if it was put on innocently. For in a mask there is a malicious seed that compels you to protect all others who have been drawn behind it. To decieve others by expressing yourself as if a past emotion still posessess you, is that not betrayal? Is turning back on those acts that you performed under those emotions betrayal...