Eleanor: Why did I do it? Why not? Do I have to have a reason to do anything? Why can't something just be undefined? Does there always have to be a reason? Haven’t you ever just felt like doing something insane… for no reason at all? (Pause) Of course not ... you’ve never made a mistake in your life, have you? It makes you so mad doesn’t it? That people like me, who are reckless and do things for no reason, are the ones that are happy. And the ones like you, who keep to the book and find the need to define every aspect of their life, are the ones that are miserable. I mean really. What does it mean to do anything? Just because I might run out in the middle of Main Street and sing Beatle lyrics at the top of my lungs doesn’t mean that I’m insane or crazy, free spirited or fun loving.
Tessa: Why can’t you just be normal Elle?
Eleanor: Normal?! You want me to be normal? Define normal Tessa. (Pause) You can’t do it can you? Does it mean (reciting like a robot) conforming with or constituting a norm, standard, level, or type; being approximately average or within certain limits; in accordance with scientific laws. Which is it? Normal. It’s just a word. You think I’m abnormal just because I do what I feel. Well some things can’t be explained or expressed through a dictionary. Some feelings are, just, indescribable. Like your mother getting engaged not but a year after the death of your father. How would you describe that? It’s not anger: a strong feeling of displeasure and belligerence aroused by a wrong. Nor is it Sadness: the quality of excessive mournfulness and uncheerfulness. It’s something that simply can’t be put into words. It’s a feeling that rips your heart apart because she’s moving on but yet still keeps it together because she’s finally happy. (Snapping back to the conversation) You want to know why I did it? How about you ask yourself that question Tess.
Tessa: What are you talking about Elle?
Eleanor: (Blowing over her comment) well maybe I did it because (Starts listing slowly then gradually speeds up) I’m a slut, a dreamer, a wisher, a lover, an artist, a humanitarian, a comedian. Because I’m compassionate, caring, callous, heartless, benevolent, random, strange, abnormal, normal, unique, punk, Goth, prep, skater, geek, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, intelligent, intellectual, dim, dumb, elegant, graceful, clumsy, dull, interesting... I’m all of these things and so much more. But yet I’m none of these things and so much less... Some things you just can’t describe. I'm what ever you want me to be... But I live with out words. I don’t need to explain myself to you and if you’re going to make me be something that I’m not, if you’re going to make me explain my feelings or my thoughts then I’ll take away the one word that ever really meant anything to me in accordance to you. I’ll take away your definition. Sister: A girl or woman who shares a common ancestry, allegiance, character, or purpose with another. You can’t make me be something that I’m not, someone that’s full of words. And I’m not going to explain anything to you. Because anything that can possibly come out of my mouth would just be words. Meaningless, insignificant words.
Friday, April 24, 2009
The End of a Legacy
Harry Potter. Wow, that’s a loaded name. The boy who lived ... The Chosen one ...You may think I’m an extreme geek devoting a whole entry to Harry Potter, but there is so much meaning behind those books for me. They’re much more then entertainment. They are memories. They are my childhood. They were a link between my mother and I. Harry Potter is something that will always remain in my heart.
It's been twelve years, twelve whole years since I first heard that name. July 1997 – I was six years old. Six. I remember getting the book as a present from my aunt whom had read it and wanted to pass it on to me. I tried to read it but I was only in first grade. I couldn't really understand it. Some of the names confused me- Albus Dumbledore, Lord Voldemort, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Gryffindor – some of the words were dangerously big. I wasn't really ready to read it on my own. So I brought the curious object up to my mother. I asked her if she would read it to me. That was the last night I remember not loving that boy's name.She sat down with me on the couch that same night and read me the first chapter and the First chapter only, "The Boy Who Lived." Each night we read one chapter until we had finished. In seventeen days (give or take a few days for nights we were unable to read) we had both completely fallen in love with a scrawny, black-haired, bespectacled boy named Harry Potter. We continued this tradition even after I was old enough to read them for myself. We waited for the second one to come out - when it did we spent one night for each chapter. Then we waited for the third, the fourth...We did that for all of them. The Sorcerer's Stone, The Chamber of Secrets, The Prisoner of Azkaban, The Goblet of Fire, The Order of the Phoenix, and The Half Blood Prince. We read one chapter each night. The stories only got better as they came out. I was completely obsessed. I dedicated at least 3 of my elementary school birthdays to the theme of Harry Potter... we even played Quidditch at one of them!!! I got Harry Potter Presents for my birthday and for Christmas- My prized possession was a Quidditch Jersey that said "Potter- 56", I had everything – straight down to Harry Potter Legos... (Yes legos... I have the Hogwarts express on my bookshelf right now!) But the most amazing of all was the Hogwarts robe that my mother had made for me to wear as Hermione for Halloween once … or twice.
When the movies came out my mother and I were the first ones to buy tickets to see them. We saw the first four together; that’s all we had time for. Harry was our thing.
Harry Potter occupied twelve years of my childhood, it introduced me to a world of imagination, it introduced me to many friends that I have right now, it was that ever lasting connection between me and my mom, it was entertainment, it was hopes, it was dreams, it was everything and beyond. So it came as no shock to me when I cried over the seventh and last installment to the series. I found it very hard to keep my emotions in check even before I read the book, for two main reasons... one: I knew this was the last book and two: because my mom wasn't there to read it with me. I read this book outside. I read every page sitting right next to my mother's memorial garden. I figured she spent twelve years reading to me... I should read to her just this once. It took me four days to read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows. Not the usual thirty-six days it would have taken if I read one chapter at a time... but I just couldn't wait.
Now, I don’t know how many years later it's over... it's all over. No more Harry Potter adventures. No more evenings on the couch with my mother. No more. I don't know whether I should be happy that those books brought all those things to me or if I should be sad because it's all over.
How do you describe the ending of a story? How do you express your feelings toward an adventure and legacy that have lasted years? It's so hard to express my feelings right now. For the first time that I can remember- I don't know how I feel. I'm neither happy nor sad... I’m both. I'm neither angry or calm... I’m both. It's so weird.
But really all I can say to end this is: thank you JK Rowling. You have no idea, what you have done to help a young girl from little old Maryland. You’ve given me imagination. You've given me hopes and dreams. You've made me cry, you've made me laugh, and you've made adrenalin shoot through my veins. You opened a world to me that I never thought possible. Thank you.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's note
I don't care if you like Harry Potter or not. That's not what this peice is about. So if you want to be an idiot and make stupid comments about how gay Harry Potter is, you go ahead and show the world how completely obtuse you are. If you want to make stupid comments about my mother go ahead because I know what a wonderful person she was, and one day when you loose someone you love too maybe then you'll finally understand a morsel of what i've had to deal with over the last three years.
It's been twelve years, twelve whole years since I first heard that name. July 1997 – I was six years old. Six. I remember getting the book as a present from my aunt whom had read it and wanted to pass it on to me. I tried to read it but I was only in first grade. I couldn't really understand it. Some of the names confused me- Albus Dumbledore, Lord Voldemort, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Gryffindor – some of the words were dangerously big. I wasn't really ready to read it on my own. So I brought the curious object up to my mother. I asked her if she would read it to me. That was the last night I remember not loving that boy's name.She sat down with me on the couch that same night and read me the first chapter and the First chapter only, "The Boy Who Lived." Each night we read one chapter until we had finished. In seventeen days (give or take a few days for nights we were unable to read) we had both completely fallen in love with a scrawny, black-haired, bespectacled boy named Harry Potter. We continued this tradition even after I was old enough to read them for myself. We waited for the second one to come out - when it did we spent one night for each chapter. Then we waited for the third, the fourth...We did that for all of them. The Sorcerer's Stone, The Chamber of Secrets, The Prisoner of Azkaban, The Goblet of Fire, The Order of the Phoenix, and The Half Blood Prince. We read one chapter each night. The stories only got better as they came out. I was completely obsessed. I dedicated at least 3 of my elementary school birthdays to the theme of Harry Potter... we even played Quidditch at one of them!!! I got Harry Potter Presents for my birthday and for Christmas- My prized possession was a Quidditch Jersey that said "Potter- 56", I had everything – straight down to Harry Potter Legos... (Yes legos... I have the Hogwarts express on my bookshelf right now!) But the most amazing of all was the Hogwarts robe that my mother had made for me to wear as Hermione for Halloween once … or twice.
When the movies came out my mother and I were the first ones to buy tickets to see them. We saw the first four together; that’s all we had time for. Harry was our thing.
Harry Potter occupied twelve years of my childhood, it introduced me to a world of imagination, it introduced me to many friends that I have right now, it was that ever lasting connection between me and my mom, it was entertainment, it was hopes, it was dreams, it was everything and beyond. So it came as no shock to me when I cried over the seventh and last installment to the series. I found it very hard to keep my emotions in check even before I read the book, for two main reasons... one: I knew this was the last book and two: because my mom wasn't there to read it with me. I read this book outside. I read every page sitting right next to my mother's memorial garden. I figured she spent twelve years reading to me... I should read to her just this once. It took me four days to read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows. Not the usual thirty-six days it would have taken if I read one chapter at a time... but I just couldn't wait.
Now, I don’t know how many years later it's over... it's all over. No more Harry Potter adventures. No more evenings on the couch with my mother. No more. I don't know whether I should be happy that those books brought all those things to me or if I should be sad because it's all over.
How do you describe the ending of a story? How do you express your feelings toward an adventure and legacy that have lasted years? It's so hard to express my feelings right now. For the first time that I can remember- I don't know how I feel. I'm neither happy nor sad... I’m both. I'm neither angry or calm... I’m both. It's so weird.
But really all I can say to end this is: thank you JK Rowling. You have no idea, what you have done to help a young girl from little old Maryland. You’ve given me imagination. You've given me hopes and dreams. You've made me cry, you've made me laugh, and you've made adrenalin shoot through my veins. You opened a world to me that I never thought possible. Thank you.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's note
I don't care if you like Harry Potter or not. That's not what this peice is about. So if you want to be an idiot and make stupid comments about how gay Harry Potter is, you go ahead and show the world how completely obtuse you are. If you want to make stupid comments about my mother go ahead because I know what a wonderful person she was, and one day when you loose someone you love too maybe then you'll finally understand a morsel of what i've had to deal with over the last three years.
Fly
I want to fly up into the sky,
To tie a balloon to my waist and
Watch the ground shrink as I smoothly lift into the air.
It’s freedom –
To be in the openness;
With no boundaries or constrictions.
My shoulders would stretch
To an eloquent point.
The balloon would pop but I’d still be afloat.
Like a bird –
I’d fly and fly
With no regulations or petitions.
Fly, fly flittering bird,
I shall join you soon.
Look out for me in the deep blue sky.
One day –
I will fly with you away, away;
I will pass all that’s gone and seize the day.
To tie a balloon to my waist and
Watch the ground shrink as I smoothly lift into the air.
It’s freedom –
To be in the openness;
With no boundaries or constrictions.
My shoulders would stretch
To an eloquent point.
The balloon would pop but I’d still be afloat.
Like a bird –
I’d fly and fly
With no regulations or petitions.
Fly, fly flittering bird,
I shall join you soon.
Look out for me in the deep blue sky.
One day –
I will fly with you away, away;
I will pass all that’s gone and seize the day.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Gone (Version 2.0)
The sweet smell of his cologne lingered in the air and the intensity of his embrace tingled up and down my spine like a soul loitering after death. His fragrance and his touch were etched into my mind, as if he was actually there – living and breathing. I saw his long dark hair pulled back and his soothing green eyes staring into mine. I reached out and swore I could feel his warm flawless skin under my fingertips. The wind swirled, guiding his unspoiled deep voice to my ears. It was a low, seductive song which sang from the stings of his guitar as well as his throat. The tingling of his embrace slowly moved up my body and rested on my lips. I could taste his sweet breath penetrating my senses. I remembered everything about him.
As I walked to his grave I wished I would see someone else in his spot. In a way, I did. This wasn’t the man I remembered. His skin was pale, his lips were hard, his singing had ceased. I walked to his motionless body where I placed a single rose on his chest and a single kiss on his forehead. As I lifted my head a drop of rain fell from the heavens. I knew that he was crying … and so was I. Ultimately, I really did love him. I just wish I had told him when I still could. I’m too late. The man that I love is dead. Gone. Completely and utterly gone.
As I walked to his grave I wished I would see someone else in his spot. In a way, I did. This wasn’t the man I remembered. His skin was pale, his lips were hard, his singing had ceased. I walked to his motionless body where I placed a single rose on his chest and a single kiss on his forehead. As I lifted my head a drop of rain fell from the heavens. I knew that he was crying … and so was I. Ultimately, I really did love him. I just wish I had told him when I still could. I’m too late. The man that I love is dead. Gone. Completely and utterly gone.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
I am Earth (version 2.0)
I have some blue.
I have some green.
I have everything in between.
I am Earth.
The mountains show my age.
It's obvious that I am old.
I've got bumps at their peaks and wrinkles at their folds.
I am Earth.
My veins are the rivers.
My blood is what you drink,
It comes out from the kitchen sink.
I am Earth.
The oceans are my lungs,
Their tides – breathing in and breathing out.
They keep me running healthy, that’s what they’re all about.
I am Earth.
My sons are the Animals,
My daughters are the plants,
Jupitar and Venus are my closest aunts.
I am Earth.
You humans are the ticks.
Though for me you’re out of sight
You keep me up scratching all through the night.
I am Earth.
You’re not the only ones who live here.
I don’t belong to you.
My lungs, my blood, my mountains are for the rest of nature too.
I am Earth.
So stop your bitting dear humans.
Or I may up and die.
Then my daughters can never grow and my sons will never fly.
I am Earth.
I am Earth.
I have some green.
I have everything in between.
I am Earth.
The mountains show my age.
It's obvious that I am old.
I've got bumps at their peaks and wrinkles at their folds.
I am Earth.
My veins are the rivers.
My blood is what you drink,
It comes out from the kitchen sink.
I am Earth.
The oceans are my lungs,
Their tides – breathing in and breathing out.
They keep me running healthy, that’s what they’re all about.
I am Earth.
My sons are the Animals,
My daughters are the plants,
Jupitar and Venus are my closest aunts.
I am Earth.
You humans are the ticks.
Though for me you’re out of sight
You keep me up scratching all through the night.
I am Earth.
You’re not the only ones who live here.
I don’t belong to you.
My lungs, my blood, my mountains are for the rest of nature too.
I am Earth.
So stop your bitting dear humans.
Or I may up and die.
Then my daughters can never grow and my sons will never fly.
I am Earth.
I am Earth.
Mother Nature (version 2.0)
Author's note:
Just for those of you who didn't understand this.... Mother nature has two meanings. You can take it that the person is literally talking about mother nature or that the speaker is talking to his or her actual mother. I personally wrote this because my mother passed away two years ago. I miss her very much but I know she sends me clues through everyday things to tell me that she loves me. For me this is what this short story is about. However, I wanted to leave the meaning up to interpritation so that each person that reads it has an opportunity to apply it to themselves on a personal level. I hope this clears up any questions you had, especially for those of you who wrote stuff like "Nature can't leave it's stationary" when you edited my paper. A helpful hint: You can't take any of my work literally. I'm a very symbolic and figurative writer. There's always a hidden meaning.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It somehow felt like she was there. As the wind blew through the sunflowers around me I felt like i could hear and feel her breathe. Those past two years without her faded away and I could sense her presence next to me, above me, and in me.
I followed the clouds overhead; they were floating along in the blue sky like chubby puffer fish moseying along in a still pool. A yellow petal fell on my forehead - her light kiss. A bird whistled off to my left - her song in my heart. The warm sun on my skin - her comforting hugs. The green stems of the flowers - her bright shinning eyes. I felt her holding me close. I sensed her mind and spirit inside of mine. I heard her teachings and remembered her voice. She was with me again, right next to me. Lying in those sunflowers.
I've missed you. I thought.
Swoosh. The wind played with my hair. She was showing me her love.
I love you too, Mom.
A caterpillar crawled on my arm.
That tickles. I giggled softly
Suddenly the wind whirled and the flowers swayed away from me. She was beginning to say goodbye.
Do you have to leave?
The wind still blew.
Just one more minute...please.
The wind slacked for just a moment longer and the birds sang once more. The tall grass brushed along my shoulder as if she were rubbing my back.
I know it will be alright. I just don't want you to leave.
Just for those of you who didn't understand this.... Mother nature has two meanings. You can take it that the person is literally talking about mother nature or that the speaker is talking to his or her actual mother. I personally wrote this because my mother passed away two years ago. I miss her very much but I know she sends me clues through everyday things to tell me that she loves me. For me this is what this short story is about. However, I wanted to leave the meaning up to interpritation so that each person that reads it has an opportunity to apply it to themselves on a personal level. I hope this clears up any questions you had, especially for those of you who wrote stuff like "Nature can't leave it's stationary" when you edited my paper. A helpful hint: You can't take any of my work literally. I'm a very symbolic and figurative writer. There's always a hidden meaning.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It somehow felt like she was there. As the wind blew through the sunflowers around me I felt like i could hear and feel her breathe. Those past two years without her faded away and I could sense her presence next to me, above me, and in me.
I followed the clouds overhead; they were floating along in the blue sky like chubby puffer fish moseying along in a still pool. A yellow petal fell on my forehead - her light kiss. A bird whistled off to my left - her song in my heart. The warm sun on my skin - her comforting hugs. The green stems of the flowers - her bright shinning eyes. I felt her holding me close. I sensed her mind and spirit inside of mine. I heard her teachings and remembered her voice. She was with me again, right next to me. Lying in those sunflowers.
I've missed you. I thought.
Swoosh. The wind played with my hair. She was showing me her love.
I love you too, Mom.
A caterpillar crawled on my arm.
That tickles. I giggled softly
Suddenly the wind whirled and the flowers swayed away from me. She was beginning to say goodbye.
Do you have to leave?
The wind still blew.
Just one more minute...please.
The wind slacked for just a moment longer and the birds sang once more. The tall grass brushed along my shoulder as if she were rubbing my back.
I know it will be alright. I just don't want you to leave.
I sat in the warmth of the sun like I was basking in the glow of her face. I loved her, she loved me. We were being brought together by that field and by those flowers. But I began to sense the field growing dimmer and the air starting to chill. A dark cloud slowly crept over the sun, devouring the blue. I started to feel her tears fall on my face.
Please don't go!
Her rain continued to fall. As did mine.
I lay there, soaking to the core. Her presence was being washed away just as the rain was washing away my tears. No one can see you cry in the rain; she knew that. I turned to my side. She wasn't there...not in that field...maybe she never was...
"Goodbye again, and again, and again." You've only left these sunflowers to comfort me now.
Monday, February 9, 2009
I Think Therefore I Am.
I am a dreamer, a wisher, a lover ♥, a peace maker, an actress, a musician, an artist, a humanitarian, a hippie, a comedian. I am compassionate, caring, kind, callous, heartless, benevolent, random, strange, abnormal yet normal, different, unique, aficionado, German, Polish, Irish...European, black, white, hispanic, asian, punk, goth, prep, skater, geek, nerd, funky, smart, intelligent, intellectual, dim, dumb, stupid, elegant, graceful, clumbsy, dull, interesting...
I’m all of these things and so much more.
But yet i'm none of these things and so muh less...
I'm as random as it gets. And so hard to describe.
I'm what ever you want me to be...
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