Pen to the Paper 22: The Announcement
Nick found me at the altar of a Catholic church. Not because I'm a Catholic, no. But because it was the closest church the Pen to the Paper Arena.
"What are you doing?" he asked, interrupting my prayers and giving me a playful kick in the side.
"After your stunt last week, I gotta get me some Jesus," I told him, lifting my head from my folded hands.
“Whatever, you homophobic weirdo. Let’s go. They’re waiting," Nick said. "Well, it's not that they're waiting, you just gotta get ready… I just like saying that the audience is waiting."
“How am I supposed to live this down, man?”
Nick chuckled. “You can’t, dude. It is now Pen to the Paper canon that you are an out of the closet gay man."
I gave him a devilish smile.
"Oh, no," Nick said. "I don't like that glimmer in your eyes."
"Oh, Nick, this is nowhere near as ambitious as some of my other ideas. But if it's going to work, we better get going."
*****
The audience was silent and confused. In the center of the stage was a closet. A door and four walls with a roof. More of a shack, really, but it was indoors, so it qualifies as a closet. There was no microphone on stage.
"Laaaaaaaaadies and gentleman!" I called over the sound system. "Welcome to Pen to the Paper Arena! Where am I, you may ask? Well," I stuck my arms out of the sides of the closet. I had made two holes so that I could do this. "I'm in the closet down here."
Lasers flashed across the stage. A light from above slowly centered on the door, casting a shadow that said "NOT GAY!"
"Now, who's ready for some announcements?"
After they finished their cheers, I cleared my throat. "Shrouded in mystery, and leaving you curious, Raybug63’s post comes in third place! It is unnamed, but such a wonderful work!
"In second, we have first step: die by JacquelineAllen. It was an amazing post going through the main character’s head and thoughts before she reaches her expiration date. I thoroughly enjoyed it!
"Finally, in first, we have a post I didn't think I would enjoy as much as I did. It talked of booze, weed, and partying a lot. But, sifting through that and giving it a chance (something that was easy to do, because the author has such a freat way with words), I found the story to be quite great. You watch through the main character’s eyes as someone slowly deteriorates. She doesn't think anything is wrong, really. He's such a fun guy, and she only sees him occasionally. The story ends on a sad note, but it was an amazing read. Jona, Not Okay was amazing, and deserves the first place spot!
"Now, for some honorable mentions. What I Hate About Writing by miscSomnus was really good. I loved hearing their perspective on writing.
"Happy by spicydakota was a reality check. They put into words hiding behind a mask perfectly.
"And, last, but not leastly, Leddog01's A Walk in the Ocean was a great read.
"Thanks for coming ou—for joining me tonight! I'll see you next month!"
I pulled my arms back into the closet and let the elevator take me down to the dressing room. Nick met me with a wicked grin.
"What?"
"You just made it worse, my man."
"What do you mean? My plan was perfect."
"If your message was that you're a deeply closeted gay guy," Nick said with a chuckle.
Note: not sure if it counts as not planning because I'm sequel-ing my last entry... But I have not actually planned anything about this, and it's not very good.
As June drove back to her flat, the hallucination stopped her train of thought a total of 11 times. She liked to think that 11 is a lucky number, yet for who was unclear. Her dead mother, or herself.
That night, June received not one call. Of course, this wasn't out of the ordinary, as she hadn't much time for hobnobbing in her six months in Leeds, but it never felt good. It has never occurred to her that inter-person relationships were all that important until she didn't have any.
All of a sudden, the phone rang. This was odd because as stated previously, she didn't often receive phone calls. But it wasnt her mobile phone mind you, but the telephone that came with the flat.
The telephone she had never given out the number of.
The telephone she had only ever used to call one person.
June stood cautiously, as if sudden movement would somehow scare the caller away. She picked up the phone, bringing it to her ear.
"Hello?"
"Juniper? Is this you?"
The voice coming out of the phone was low and smooth, oozing out of the phone like treacle. June let out a breath, vaguely relieved, yet also mildly disappointed.
"... Em? How did you get my number?" She breathed into the phone, listening carefully.
"I looked at my phone's logs dummy. Where are you?"
"My flat. Where else?"
"Look, June, I need you to do something for me. I need you to take care of Mom, can you do that?The breath left Juniper's lungs as she froze in place. This wasn't happening
"Look, June, I need you to do something for me. I need you to find Mom, can you do that?"
The breath left Juniper's lungs as she froze in place. This wasn't happening. It couldn't. Mom was dead.
"Emerson, Mom is-"
"She isn't dead, June. You know that. Quit pretending. Do you know how hard it's been for her? You just left, June. You left us with no warning. The least you can do is stay with her."
June's hands shook with fear and rage. That's not true. She told them both her plans. She showed them the money for the flight. She'd cried in front of them when her mother 'forgot' the money belonged to June. She'd told Emerson goodbye the day she left. He was the first person she called when she got her flat.
" No."
" Please, June, think about her-"
" No."
She hung up the phone, hands shaking. How dare he accuse her of not caring, of selfishness. How dare he ask her to go back to that woman, as if they were old pals.
June sunk to the floor. She couldn't go back there. Not to Hamilton Street, not to Wyoming, not to the USA. She wouldn't. She couldn't. Did Em not remember? Could he just look past all the things their Mother had done?
June sunk to the floor. She couldn't go back there. Not to Hamilton Street, not to Wyoming, not to the USA. She wouldn't. She couldn't. Did Em not remember? Could he just look past all the things their Mother had done?
As June sat on the kitchen floor, she opened up her mind, and let the voices in. The breakups, the longing, the laughter, and the screams. The longer she sat in the cacophony of thoughts, the further she seemed to drift from that little house in Wyoming, and her little brothers plea for help.
Love is what you want it to be!
Love is mixed feelings and has a different meaning for everyone out there. Love can be happiness, sad, a smile, a hug, someone else's way of taking care of you, the bad days, a laughter or even tiny little things.
I'm guessing movies only giving us a lesson of how a relationship of a couple that was meant to be or fate or how it feels like losing the other by giving it at it's best, that is actually so perfectly made up and so wrong at the same time. Movies gives us a feeling that we can't live in reality that is why is so wrong but so amazingly beautiful at the same time.
Karma List
None of us are angels,
We've all hurt people,
Most just move on and forget,
But karma remembers,
Life is a lesson,
If we fail this school, we get permanent detention,
A major part of growing as a person,
Is looking back at the thing's you have done,
Each transgression is on the universe's list,
Crossing out every bad deed with a good action,
It doesn't erase it but making amends is better than nothing.
One, the hearts that have been broken.
Sol - Apologize to them, don't do it again.
Two, stealing cookies from the jar to stuff his face.
Sol - Buying cookies, to fill up the empty space.
Three, lying in order to get your own way.
Sol - Tell the truth, accept whatever becomes of your day.
Crossing off this list,
Another weight is lifted,
As bad karma drifts,
Back to Satan's village.
I believe that we are attracted to the toxic because in this generation people are addicted to toxic relations. Like we want to have fights, we are in need of feeling lonely or depressed, even causing scenes out of nowhere to feel good.
See if you look at the rose, you will be amazed by the color and the way it is made that when you will touch it you only then will realize the thorns where actually from the beginning there. People only see what they want to see, but sometimes what you are looking at isn't the one you need. You may feel like you are needy or you need to fix them but they are not in need of your help, and just like the rose needs to be thrown in the rubbish, you realize what a waste it was. The only bad thing is that you still stay there cause of the feelings and the love you grow for them.
What I'm trying to say is that we may fall for someone with a hard past which leads to a toxic relationship but it's up to you if you leave early or stay and make yourself depressed and used by someone you think it brings out the worst, even fights.
senior year recap
Not being in high school anymore is a really weird feeling. I cry so much these days, and when I’m not crying, I feel like crying.
Senior year recap: I was named valedictorian and I’m going to Stanford. I placed second in the league in my last race ever, and decided to quit track after the winter season. I had senior days, senior concerts, senior banquets, the whole shebang. I had people sign my yearbook; so many wrote that I’m going to do great things in life, and to have a good one if our paths don’t cross again. It was all a very sweet, slightly bitter, last ride around the academic calendar.
Senior year recap: I had a crippling crush on a boy who doesn’t like me back and is moving away right after graduation so I’ll probably never see him again. I drank way too much coffee and didn’t sleep enough and lost a lot of work ethic and didn’t eat right. I cried. A lot.
I also am in the process of revamping my wardrobe. I dyed my hair. I watched a ton of movies and made friends through movie reviews. I worked long hours at Rite Aid. I went out more. I did things I shouldn’t have on Senior Skip Day. It hasn’t really sunk in that it’s over. I feel like I’m going back to school next week. But I’m not.
I’m trying to live in the now, but it all feels fleeting when the future is looming so darkly up ahead. I hope that in college I’m more confident, more willing to pursue creative ideas. I hope I grow and shed my stuck mindset and I hope I completely forget about things like stupid high school crushes and prom dates. That’s not to say I want to forget how they made me feel though. Pain is necessary for evolution. Loss is necessary for gains.
The K-Factory
Training until they can taste blood,
It's never enough,
No dating, no phones,
Plastic procedures,
Dieting until they are skin and bones,
Competing and put against each other,
For years and years,
Chasing the promise of a debut,
But, even if they do,
The public still has a lot to say,
From their personality to the shape of their face,
You call them idol,
But, pick on them when they can't live up to the mantle,
They are in debt, and no matter what they do,
They can't seem to win,
From contracts that are too long to scandals that are made-up
Each company sells the idea of the "perfect" idol life,
In reality it's just mental torture wrapped in pretty paper,
Porcelain skin, slim figure, and bigger eye's,
Most of these netizens never look like that but expect these people to,
Is it really love if you can't treat them like humans too?
Being famous and sacrificing that much,
On the promise of being rich,
It's a lie and too many people buy into it,
Most artists just want to dance and sing,
But, get turned into something or someone completely different by the time their training is finished
It's a factory, they are stripped of their freedom, dignity, and self-esteem,
They are treated like products by the maker and the public
Until they are no longer able to take it
They break just to then be replaced
By a new set of victims.
A Night for Adventure
You don't realize how dirty you can get on an adventure until you find yourself in the thick of it. I was no stranger to dirt or sweat when I went on my own sort of adventure, but there is something about the security and constancy of home that encourages bathing and hygiene in a way that is absent out there in the wild world. Mind you, you hardly care what you smell like while running for your life, but I digress. Suffice it to say when I stumbled into a modest little motel covered in blood and all sorts, I was made keenly aware of the issue by the expression of the young man behind the counter. Before he picked his jaw up from the floor, I managed to compose myself and calmly say, "One room, one night, please."
