31

Happy Halloween!

(the most boring day ever, this time around)

30

Recurring dreams mean nothing?
This is not good news for the kid I keep dreaming about.
His name is William.

29

I am stagnating.
Where is the snow?

Dear mother nature,
give me something for a sign of change?
it's blowing me by, but not quickly enough.

love,
t

I would also like to receive some mail.
And feel at home.

28

I don't know when I started believing in fate
such as "maybe this isn't meant to be?"

but I still find comfort in articulated hopes:
"please let this work, please let this work
forever and ever and ever."

25

Somehow my like for minesweeper represents everything:

The patters are there, unchanging.
I just have to see them.
And the more I play, the more easily this happens.

That is all I ask from life.

24

Today I feel the need to make a plan
to find you again
just in case of the apocalypse.

27

Mine own fingers bleed.

26

Every time I'm told I don't communicate well enough
I feel like trying less.

Now I'm getting it from two parts of my life.

22

I am sick and tired of getting nonsense mail from colleges
that I've never expressed an interest in.

Will this stop when I finally go?

I can't deal with this plague forever.

23

Today I lost my faith in English.

But then I came home to write about my frustrations,
so I guess I haven't lost it after all.

21

I don't see myself as a bad person,
so I reject your judgment.

You're just wrong.

20

I remember when I didn't know you,
before you'd ever made this, a first appearance in writing.
That was better because, though this is something of an ode, you really irritate me.

I multitask a lot now.
I compose lines in my head before I write them,
tasting,
testing.
I stay up later and yawn in the mornings.

19

(Look what I just found! I started writing what would ultimately become my novel project. Only I wrote it like a year before the project. And then I started both things in exactly the same way. Wizard.)

I’d never really been a believer of all that hokey “love at first sight” business. I was a realist, considered by some to be a cynic, and took things in stride as I saw them. Believing in fairy tale endings was a condition solely for saps and six year old girls. I fit into neither of these categories.

But then again, there was one of Gram’s—who avidly believed in the truth of happily ever after—adages that I wanted terribly to believe. I’d heard it countless times since birth, with more frequency since I’d started dating. Every time I’d come home with my heart broken by a beautiful girl who hadn’t wanted to go out with a brain, she’d said the same thing.

18

Things I do not miss:

Lab Objectives: To conduct acid-base titrations in order to determine the equivalence points of a strong acid-strong base titration and a weak acid-strong base titration, as well as calculate the molar concentrations of the two acids.

Post-Lab Questions:
1. Hydrochloric: (0.0091L)(0.1M)=0.00091 moles NaOH (Trial One)
Hydrochloric: (0.0089L)(0.1M)=0.00089 moles NaOH (Trial Two)
Acetic: (0.0081L)(0.1M)=0.00081 moles NaOH (Trial One)
Acetic: (0.0082L)(0.1M)=0.00082 moles NaOh (Trial Two)

17

Cute AND Educational:

One day, Sara Bellum asked her teacher, “Mrs. Cortex, how do I think?”

Lightning speedy-quick, Mrs. Cortex drew a picture on the board. “This is your brain, Sara. You use your brain to think and to do lots of other things.”

16

Civil War Project Again:

Jeb Stuart: DAY ONE

REPORTER: Thank you Meg, Morgan. Reporting live from the Southern camp at Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, I’m here with the dashing General James “Jeb” Stuart. Just this morning, General Stuart led a cavalry charge against Union cavalry commander General George Custer. We haven’t heard much yet from General Stuart, but he promises to play a big part. General Stuart, what comment do you have on this war?

15

(again, this is me pretending to be someone else.)(also, lolz louis and clark.)

October 10, 1804
Arikara Village
Private Hugh Hall writing.

Today we were in the Arikara village. The Indians here are much impressed with me, and keep wanting to touch me and rub dirt to see if my blackness will come off. They were so interested, and thought me to be so great that I decided I could play something of a trick on them. Private Hall thought it to be extremely funny, which is why he offered to write it down for me to remember it and tell everyone else the story when we get back east.

14

(And, for some more variation, a newspaper article:)

The facts are these: starting next spring, drivers under the age of twenty-one with a provisional license shall be marked with a sticker.

The legislation, called Kyleigh’s Law, has been in consideration for years, sometimes considering teens, and sometimes considering sex offenders, and finally New Jersey has passed a law. The new rules, for those who don’t already know, mean that the curfew for provisional licenses will be eleven, not midnight, that one passenger, not excluding siblings, will be permitted, and that holders of a learner’s permit or provisional license will be forced to put a bright sticker on any vehicle they drive. Additionally, the number of hours in driving lessons will increase to X hours.

13

I wrote these words about Benjamin Franklin:

Benjamin Franklin is arguably one of the most endearing characters in American history. He is known as a rather enigmatic, ambiguous personality, a figure both great and imperfect.

I am funny.

12

zomg novel project:

9:02

My words escaped in a rush, a flood of explanation. “I’m really sorry to bother you, but my friends—they’re real assholes, trust me—told me that they’d kill me if I came inside without talking to a girl first, and so I’m sorry that I interrupted you, or whatever, but can you just talk to me really fast, ‘cause I swear I suck at lying and they’ll know, and I’m Emerson.” I sucked in a breath, mostly because I needed it, but also so that I would shut the hell up. Maybe this was the reason there’d never been any girl but Triss.

11

And I think I'll throw in some essays, because I've done so many and because they're so funny.

The complexity of human emotions sets the species apart from any other. Instead of living off instinctive behaviors, like other animals, humans have allowed emotions to influence and guide their decisions, their actions. These emotions are largely helpful, inspiring humans to travel down that path which will inspire the fewest negative emotions. Seeking the least painful course leads us to increased morality, to more often choosing the path that is considered, by general consent, to be “right.” However, there comes a time when these feelings become an impediment, a handicap blocking that path that we all walk. These are the times when the painful emotions cannot be dismissed. When emotions become more of a hindrance than a help, they must be cut free. The foremost of these emotions is guilt, one of the most detrimental experiences in the human existence.

10

I moved for the first time the summer before kindergarten. It was not the last time I moved; over the next few years, I would move so many times that the boxes would hardly be unpacked before we’d packed up again. But this house was bigger, with enough rooms for both my brother and me, just not one of us.

On the first night we were living there, the neighbors from up the street knocked on our door carrying a cake that said “Welcome to the Block!” in pink icing. They had three children, just like we would, soon, and the man had his hand on the woman’s shoulder. My mother was surprised, but pleased—at the very least, she seemed pleased—and invited them in. The house was a mess, boxes piled here and there, our couch the only furniture unpacked. My mother was not, and never would be, the kind of woman who baked “Welcome to the Block!” cakes for new neighbors and she always received company too loudly. I knew this at five years old.

9

No, Not the Tree, Either

I’m on an emotional fast track to nowhere
And when I get there
It’ll be the same as here always was
And you won’t be there
Because that’s the whole point, anyway

Things will be just as sad
And just as glad
But maybe a little more pathetic
That’s normal, though
Because both of us know that things aren’t going to get better as much as we may want them to

8

Zeke—
This is my third attempt at a third letter. The first one—when I promised a total of three—was the easiest. It was spur-of-the-moment, a mere explanation of WHY. WHY is nothing; it’s meaningless. Thoreau had given me an example: Why I Went. I was seeking my own Walden Pond; I still loved you; I was sorry; it was just that simple.
I promised three letters, with three hundred sixty-four days in between. That gave you three hundred sixty-four days to mull over what I’d said, extract every possible meaning from them. Perhaps it wasn’t quite fair of me, but I’ve always been unsure that you hear me. And, admittedly, I liked the idea of building up the suspense.

7

Freshman year creative writing class:

I always missed Annabel most at the supermarket. Don’t ask me why—it was by no means the place we went most often. But somehow, grocery shopping was something that brought out the most Annabel in Annabel. The first couple of times I went without her—and once she was gone, Stop and Shop took on an irresistible pull—I hyperventilated and passed out, leaving my family without groceries for a few days more. It didn’t take more than three tries for me to find another way to get through shopping; I wasn’t a stupid guy, and everyone was getting pretty hungry.

6

I am nothing you couldn’t buy at a corner convenience store. Cheap makeup and stiff hairspray form me, give me shape and body, and stop the invisibility that creeps around my edges. Basically, I’m protein and calcium and water, neatly bundled up—packaged for your purchase.

Tell me, Skinflint, why you’re willing to pay? You wouldn’t buy a one-fifty bottle of water at the baseball game, when you were practically dying of thirst because you thought it was too expensive. You bought me a bracelet just because you thought I’d like it. You confuse me, Spendthrift.

As you pet my hair and ask me if there’s anything I need, I think of that convenience store. Only sheer luck has stopped me from being there—were I there, you’d not look at me twice. I can’t help but wonder why you’re willing to pay for something so insignificant.

5

“What’s the worst thing you can imagine happening to either of us right now?”

“Being pregnant.”

I said nothing.

She was the first person I was telling, and I was only telling her because Emily was the kind of girl you felt comfortable telling your secrets to. And that was weird, because it wasn’t like she was particularly close-mouthed or anything. In fact, she was honest to a fault. I knew she was honest to a fault, and I didn’t know her that well.

4

So I would say there’s a fifty percent chance that I’m pulling this crazy shit just to keep you guessing, and that the other two thirds chance is that I’m actually insane. But then again, think about how long you’ve known me. I’m nothing if not talented at mind games.

I mean, think about the other night, when you were doing things you shouldn’t’ve been doing, and I was trying to write my goddamned English paper. “Stop it,” I snapped when you started playing with the ends of my hair. Let me tell you, it’s not joke, writing a rhetorical analysis of Winston Churchill’s “Iron Curtain” speech when someone’s tugging on you.

3

The day dawned hot and bright and with the promise of blood. Little Round Top rippled with nervous soldiers. The 15th Alabama had never lost in combat, and it was the 15th Alabama they were to fight. The boys in blue quivered, anticipation their bosom companion. Pennsylvania heat was no friend of a regiment of Maine lads, lads who’d been raised on cool summer and frigid winters.

The 20th Maine knew that Little Round Top was to be defended at all costs. The 20th Maine knew that the enemy was coming, with their eerie, echoing rebel yells and unknown numbers. Muttered rumor rippled down the line as sweaty hands clutched muskets that gleamed in the summer sun.

2

I don’t pretend to know you,
So correct me if I’m wrong:
A pretty mouth pouts
A poignant moue,
Shielded by a fluttering hand
Your thoughts don’t make you smile;
You grin at your mistakes

I shan’t keep up a pretense,
And I know I may be wrong:
The way you dress
(smoothly)
Is cordially inviting
(no RSVP necessary)
To admire more than just your mind
Quietly unassuming,
You sit in the corner:
We watch
As compliments shower in your lap
Black curls—lovely

1

She took one half step closer, one half step more into the pool of light that threw her into high relief. Black hair dripped from her crown like so much spilt ink, dribbling into the collar of her coat. Shorter pieces framed her face, accenting the shadows that the light gathered at her eyes. Her head tilted ever so slightly to one side, putting me in mind of my dog when she wanted to be pet, revealing a sliver of colorful scarf hiding under her chin.
Most of her figure was hidden by her coat, aided by the arms that she clutched so tightly around her. But, she was almost certainly thin and petite, if the short legs that extended from the bottom of her skirt’s hem—seeming almost too slight to support her—were any indication. She ended with tiny feet, in delicate shoes.