Oct 17 2011

Unrequited Love

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When I see you my heart skips a beat
I hide my feelings and try to keep it discrete.
But it’s too much to bear, even for me
I want to tell you we were meant to be

I just know we would make the perfect team
But everything is nothing more then a simple dream.
How I wish you could see what lies in my heart
Even this poem I write is nothing more then art

A simple drawing of our love without end
But to you, I’m nothing more then just a friend
In the end it’s all just a one-sided love
But one of these days, I know you’ll become my dove.

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Oct 10 2011

A crappy love poem

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Woke up, didn’t see the sun shining bright   

My skin so cold, your touch’s what I’m missing 

Clouds gather around like a storm tonight  

Do you feel that? My heart’s reminiscing  

Since the angels took you away from me

Time’s been frozen in the dead of winter

I try to break through from beneath that sea

But the waves swallow me and I whimper

The dark blue sea washed me up to the shore

To have you back would be my only wish

Thinking of you my tears begin to pour

Many more things we had to accomplish

Now that you are gone it’s all but a dream

You are above smiling down like a sunbeam

 

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Oct 09 2011

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I cross the congested street to get to the Q76 bus stop to find it completely devoid of any human existence, well, that’s nothing out of the ordinary. A bird flies out of the tree branch hanging above my head and I find myself alone with my thoughts. I notice that the sidewalk is lined with cars; you can’t park a car in front of the bus stop sign, I wanna yell out, but there is no one around to hear me. Oh, they have a match, no wonder there are so many cars parked here today. Jeez, they even got cheerleaders; these girls are seriously living a suburban life. I glance at my watch, it’s 5:00p.m., and…yup, here they come. For the past week I have been dreading their arrival and here they are, dressed in their soccer uniforms on a day when I have one of my infamous headaches, no less. Its 5:09 and I walk up and down the sidewalk, once again listening to their conversation; “the bus is here!” says one of them. I glance up and sure enough there it is; my chariot awaits me.

 

I climb onto the bus and I’m almost instantly drawn to him, to the boy in the front seat. He is wearing a white shirt that hugs his body and shows off his arms, the ends of his worn-out jeans, that I imagine are riding dangerously low on his hips, are gathered around his yellow Timberlands. There is nothing particular about his face but I’m attracted to the rich, golden color of his skin. He folds his arms across his chest, tilts his head to the side and closes his eyes in a fruitless attempt to take a nap, meanwhile the soccer-playing high school girls proceed to the rear of the bus in all their loud and obnoxious glory. My sun-kissed boy picks up his head and glances in the direction of the giggling, a look of annoyance crosses his face; I know, I answer him as if we could communicate telepathically, they piss the shit out of me as well.

 

It’s 5:20, someone signals the bus to stop; the girls get off and a third grade Spanish boy with his mom get on board and unfortunately for my golden boy, wedge into the seat between him and the woman on the other end. I look at my boy and the kid sitting side by side and think how in a crazy, ironic twist or perhaps another lifetime they could actually be brothers. The boy gives it another shot at sleep but its useless, this kid is all over the place: asking his mom a hundred question, taking papers out of his backpack and the periodic bumping of the arm against the boy’s right arm. At one point I start to smile and realize that this kid is being just that, a kid. My boy doesn’t seem to care about that, I bet I wouldn’t either if I were in his shoes right about now. It’s 5:25, I take a glimpse at my boy and step off the bus; as the distance between us increases, I want to reach out to him and tell him that I understand how he feels. Instead the bus doors close and I’m left far behind.      

 

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Sep 28 2011

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Sound. It bounces of the white, narrow ceiling of the bus and against the window-plastered walls. Its 5:00 in the evening on a typical Tuesday and I make it onto my second bus; after three grueling classes, I’m finally going home. I’m nursing a headache that like thunder could spilt the sky in half if only heaven would let it and I swear to god all I want to do is scream at these people to shut it. Too bad I can’t. Wave upon wave, sounds crash against my skull and dance their way into my ears against my will. I close my eyes and force myself to shut it all out but the high school girls at the front and the back of the bus won’t let me escape this torture, their laughter and shrill voices pierce through and hammer away at me bit by bit until nothing is left but my desire to make them disappear. Without meaning to I catch snippets of their conversations, it’s not my fault – they’re the ones who pulled me back to reality.

“I wanna watch Abduction.”

I do too, I think to myself, why don’t you pay for me and we’ll call it a hot date, even though you don’t know me.

“Taylor Lautner stars in that right? He’s hot.”

Sure is.

“My mom won’t let me do that.”

What won’t she let you do? Is she strict?

That laughter again; it’s like these girls are high on life and soccer practice and nothing in the world can bring them down. This time it’s coming from both ends of the bus; I know its coming right at me but there’s nothing I can do to avoid it, nowhere to run and hide, I’m caught in the middle. The sounds of laughter collide and crash with each other and the aftermath echoes in my mind, intensifying my headache. My mind starts to wander off and I let myself drift. I check my watch, five more minutes, a mantra I keep repeating over and over again. It’s 5:15 p.m. and I’m one stop away from where I usually get off. Fuck this, I can’t take it anymore, I think to myself and decide to get off a stop earlier, it’s only a five minute walk – no big deal. I press the yellow tape, the bus rolls to a stop and I hurriedly step out into a world devoid of obnoxious high school girls. I take a gulp of humid air and breathe out a sigh of relief. I’m free.                

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Sep 18 2011

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Second blog post and I am stumped on how to go about it. I thought I would just concentrate on one aspect or topic (i.e. the frustration of waiting for the bus in the rain) yet as I sit here in front of my computer, trying to figure out how to begin, I am bombarded with a million different thoughts and emotions that I experienced over the past week while riding on the bus.  I feel conflicted as to what to include and how much is too much and as the memories of last week run through my mind and words try to escape from my head and through the tips of my fingers onto the screen, I can’t help but think “I can not write this thought, it’s too private.” I finally come to a conclusion: it doesn’t matter to me what my classmates think of my private thoughts, I just want to be honest and I’ll probably never see these people again after the end of the semester. That isn’t meant to be insult, it’s a simple fact.  

I remember it was last week Wednesday and I was going home on the Q76 after a long grueling day. At the next stop a hell of a lot of high school students get on, I know this because the stop is right across from St. Francis Prep H.S.  A teenage couple stood right next to me, since the bus was crowded by then, and proceeded to play tonsil hockey. Lucky me, right? Wait for it. They were kissing, and to quote Holly from What I Like About You, “it sounded like someone eating a sandwich. Egg salad. With too much mayo.” After my initial disgust and successful attempt at keeping my lunch contents inside of me, I noticed the way he was gently looking at her – like he never wanted to let her go.  I started to feel this sense of longing like something inside of me is missing; as if there’s a hole and I somehow have to fill it up.

I have never been in love and I’m not going to put on a cool act and pretend like it’s something I can do without; I am not embarrassed to admit that it’s something I’ve always wanted to experience. Waking up, going to class and robotically going through the same motions everyday, I can not help but feel empty at times. I want to feel the rush and all that emotional baggage crap that people talk about, even the heartaches because at least then I know I’m alive. I guess I could go on a rollercoaster and feel the excitement, the fear and the butterflies in my stomach but it really wouldn’t feel the same, would it? No, I didn’t think so.  

I think I just wrote a blog that makes me sound emotional depressed, but I assure you that’s not the case. Ok enough with the gloomy, depressing thoughts (at least thats how they sound to me) and into a bit more…colorful, shall we say.  That same Wednesday, on that same trip home, I was suddenly startled out of my thoughts by a push from someone behind me and I realized why the bus had gone so swiftly from crowded to overcrowded; about six elementary school kids got on while I was in my la-la world. At first I was annoyed and irritated because these kids had no balance, nothing to hold on to and were overweighed by huge book-bags, overstuffed with notebooks and books – so of course they were falling all over the place. My frustration, however, quickly turned into something like amusement because they just couldn’t keep their balance! It was plain adorable.  “Wait,” I thought to myself, and all of a sudden it hit me: are these kids alone?! I started looking for a parent, guardian or some sort of chaperone for these kids but I couldn’t find one. I couldn’t believe that their parents would allow children at such a young age to take the bus unaccompanied. What were they thinking? Anything could happen in NY for god’s sake! One of the kids, an Asian little girl, pressed the yellow tape to signal her stop, the bus came to a halt, the doors burst wide open and that’s when I almost had a heart attack. Four of the boys ran across the street, I’m not even sure they checked for cars. All I know is that I would never allow my elementary-aged child on any public transportation without an adult being present. I couldn’t believe it – no one was even at the bus stop to see the children safely home. I don’t know what their parents were thinking but someone needs to slap them.

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Sep 11 2011

Introductory post

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I am just an ordinary person with an everyday life; there is not much glamour in my life. I am a junior, majoring in speech therapy with a minor in psychology. At least one person reading this right now is probably thinking: “what is she doing in creative writing?” I know, right? What am I doing taking this class? Well, like I said in class, I have wanted to take this class since freshman year when I found out about this course and now I finally made that happen.        

Whew. Made it through the introduction, the worst part is over; now I can move on to my blog topic. I loath taking the bus…All right, maybe that’s too strong of a word but I’m definitely not a fan of buses. Like when there is some kid, whining or wailing for absolutely no reason. You can tell everyone is getting damn mad, but nope, we just sit in our seats, and don’t do a darn thing! But what can we really do? I get so mad, I have to get off a few stops earlier than normal, just to avoid murder! Ok, so maybe I exaggerated that last part, but we all feel that way at times and if you say you don’t, then you’re lying. It’s a nightmare using the bus, well ok, some of the time it’s a nightmare. Other times however taking the bus could be quiet amusing. One night my friend was invited to hang out with a bunch of girls; naturally he wanted to look good – not how he usually looks when he’s with his guy friends – you know, nice shirt; cologne; gelled hair, the whole nine yards. He got on the bus and went all the way to the back; innocently enough, he decided to stand in front of a couple of seats that were occupied by two buff-looking Spanish guys. So he was just standing there, holding onto the pole with one hand and texting with the other when all of a sudden the bus drives through a hole in the road, making the bus jump. Normally he wouldn’t have fallen since he was holding onto the pole but as luck would have it, he slipped and fell ending up in the lap of one of the buff-looking Spanish guys. Afterwards, he got up and apologized to the man, who then proceeded to glare at my friend for a couple of seconds. My friend on the other hand went about pretending like nothing unusual happened, turned around red-faced and tried not to look too stupid since he felt his ego shattering as he got closer to his stop. Well I guess anything can happen during a bus ride.                     

If you haven’t guessed it by now, the theme I will be running with is riding the bus. And why not? Aside from riding in a car, the bus is my most used source of transportation since I almost never take the subway. And if you actually think about it, interesting events occur on the bus from embarrassing moments to fascinating observations of random people to downright frustration because the bus arrives late. It isn’t so much from the topic as it is from writing the blog itself that I am hoping to gain something. I have the imagination, but I have trouble expressing and describing those scenes through writing. I’m hoping that all this writing will help me become a better writer.

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Sep 11 2011

Hello world!

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