Perfection

I've heard people say we live in a perfect world,

When in fact,

It’s filled with perfectionists,

But no real perfection.

From when we are little,

To our dying days,

We all constantly change ourselves,

We hope that we will finally fit in.

Our hairstyles and the way we dress,

It all seems to define us.

You’re judged on how you look,

And even how much money you have.

We look to our past and see someone who used to be,

Someone who lost their innocence,

Someone so totally changed,

It’s unbelievable.

We look at our present and see,

we’re just  another human changing for others,

But there isn't need to worry,

Because so is everyone else.

We look to our future,

Yet we can’t quite picture it,

We don’t know what we’ll look like,

Because we will keep changing.

After all we are humans,

Perfection isn't ever going to be ours,

Because as soon as you’re perfect,

You’re not human.

Sick With Secrets

(Author's note:  This poem is about the danger of secrets being spread. If they are with trustworthy people it is ok.  But, when spread to the wrong person your life is put on hold.  Eventually you find this is told in the point of view of someone who had their secret shared or shared a secret before.  They are begging someone to never share a secret)

A mad disease passed from person to person,

Only the most trustworthy won’t spread it.

For when it is shared,

It is not itself anymore.

It transforms from something hidden to a giant problem,

Ruins your past and follows you into your future.

Everything you’ve ever known…

Changes.

Suddenly your life revolves around your sickness,

Every corner you turn,

Every car that passes,

Is scaring you.

Look me in the eyes dear,

Promise me you won’t ever spread this disease.

Lock it away deep inside you,

Where even Angels can’t find them.

Keep yourself together,

Now run from all of the sick.

Lock that disease inside you,

And never spread it to another.

Red Lipped Lady

(Author’s Note: Red Lipped Lady is ‘temptation’  Some could not resist although it meant falling off a cliff for power and riches.  The only two that could turn away from temptation were the strongest.  The villagers that jumped were representing ‘greed’ and the things people do over greed)

It was peaceful that night. Wind brushed past the trees and then disappeared into the moonlight.  Stars glimmered in the sky allowing for even the most evil of spirits to withdraw.  A girl no louder than your quietest whisper wandered throughout the maze. Somehow she engrossed you and brought you under her spell.  Her red lips parted only once to whisper, “Come with me.  I will give you power and riches.”  Those simple sentences were enough for the men of the village to follow the Red Lipped Lady through the darkness. Soon they came to a cliff and all of the men looked over.

 “Red lady, we cannot walk further.” 

“Take one more step off the cliff and the power is yours.  Turn around you will not have anything.”  The Red Lipped Lady was intriguing and no man left the edge of that cliff.  For a while they stared over the immense drop and awaited for the bravest of them to step over the edge. 

“I will!” announced the biggest of the group.  “And you will see men that I will have endless riches and power.”  he jumped off the cliff.  That man fell and disappeared underneath the fog clouds. 

Soon, there were only two men left who had not jumped.

“Oh, Red Lipped Lady we do not want to fall,”  the eldest of the two admitted.   

   “But, the power.  The riches will not be yours.”

“I would rather go back to my family.” Both turned and started back to the village. 

“Wait, are you sure?”  The youngest nodded.  “Well the power and riches are yours to keep.  You resisted me and that is something only the bravest and strongest of men can do.”  She vanished from the cliff and was to never be found.

Nothing is the Meaning Of Life

(Author’s Note: I really try to hit hard on the symbols and the idea of nothingness.  Sometimes you may feel a bit at a loss for words because just the idea of nothingness is so difficult to explain.  Impossible in any language to entirely understand.)

Every night people laid out their outfit for the next day, and then tucked their children in bed.  The old man sat alone in a café.  Children had a cup of milk and the parents a half glass of wine.  The old man screamed for more Brandy.  Everybody was moving on in their lives greeted by the morning sun and cradled to bed by the moonlight.  Yet, here in this well lighted place, a lonely man sat still in a booth.  This man was an insignificant speck in a sea of nothingness.

Unlike the younger waiter who flies through life happily and sees no reason to be despaired, the older waiter and old man are extremely overwhelmed with the idea of nothingness.  Although the idea itself of nothingness seems  simple, it’s so complex that people need a light to get them through the night.  There was no one waiting for them back home, nowhere to go, and nothing to go back to.  That café was the only place that may have saved them from nothing.  There was nothing to turn to for meaning.

When the older waiter recites the prayers, “Our nada who art in nada” he accomplished wiping out the idea of heaven and God in less than a sentence.  This shows how people may turn to religion for purpose, but in time find nothing there.  We learned that the old man had money, but that did not cure his despair.  Also he had a wife, but she has either died or divorced.  When he finally got to his brink he attempted suicide to end the nothingness for good.  The old waiter and the old man both can only subdue this monstrosity by waiting out the night in a well lit café.  This is a daily routine they can control unlike the nothingness that has taken up their life.

   In the very last part of this passage Hemingway repeated “it” and “that” quite often.  We never clarify what this may mean, but we find what the older waiter is trying to explain something that may be beyond what English, Chinese, Dutch, and every other language in the world can describe.  This thing bringing dread upon him is massive, possibly infinite.  Perhaps….the meaning of life.  Night becomes a dangerous, empty place for all of those who try to consider it.  Only that café provides a hiding place from their darkest nightmares and their deepest thoughts.

Question Answers For Short Story

Light, dimmed low, but light all in all.  Just enough for the late night customers to know there they are safe and can escape reality, the reality of the darkness waiting to swallow them outside.  A young waiter, 20's maybe, sat slumped over in his wooden chair complaining of his hours of sleep. This cafe was a place of clean, and calming nature.  It contained soft edges to tables and vibrant colors.  Not at all the way it was in the film.

Booly Mardy's was harsh.  It had rugged sharp corners and was too updated.  The browns and grays were no match for the perfect cafe we had all pictured in our heads.  The old man sat in a square booth and shouted quite loudly. We were astonished to see this dire scene instead of our late night paradise we assumed it had taken place in.

Now, maybe we wouldn't have paid much attention to the background in this story if the author hadn't wanted us to.  By not having names to anyone besides 'young waiter' and 'old man' it allowed us to pay more attention to the stories meaningless meaning.  A story based on mere meaningless and how this old man was trying to run from a meaningless life.  Without having to run over names and remember unneeded details we gradually built this grand place in our minds.  Once the film had started and we realized what kind of place this cafe really was, our thought were.....meaningless.

List of 10

Part 1: "Take Him Around The World"

Leila  peered into the hospital room at her dad sleeping in the bed,  his stomach rising and falling at a constant rate. 

               

“Ms. Leila James. I’m afraid he doesn’t have much longer. Do you have another relative you can live with or-“

               

“Mother is dead. Haven’t talked to other relatives in years.  I’ll be fine though. Goodnight Dr. Simon.”She nervously stroked her golden hair.  

               

“Are you sure? We can call someone.” He strung his stethoscope around his neck.

               

“Goodnight Dr. Simon.”Leila repeated.  She made no eye contact with him until he nodded and turned to walk away. 

               

That night her neighbor drove her home and she began to rummage through her father’s belongings for anything that might comfort him as cancer slowly ate away at his life. Leila found a concealed envelope that was set in his bedside table.  She tore away at the thin white paper to access the colorful letter that was inside.

10 Things I Want To Do Before I Die

“One,” Leila read out loud. “Have a beautiful child.” This goal was checked and a smile curled at the

corners of her fine lips. “Two, see my hometown-Paris.”  she remembered the countless stories that always began with 'back in my day...'. "Three, hike the Grand Canyon. Four, kayak down the rapids. Five, finish this list." She smirked and was happy that his humor had shown through. "Six, watch the sunset with my family. Seven, ride a horse. Eight, cliff dive." Number nine was scribbled, but this goal was checked. And finally...ten. Blank. 

  

“Daddy,” she nudged him the next morning. “We are going.”

“Going where sweetie?” The strain of his voice signaled he was very tired.

"Kayaking...come on now out of bed. Our reservations are for eleven thirty." With that he chuckled and the doctor assured Leila he cannot let this dying man go.  With anger she pulled Dr. Simon into the hall and waved the list in his face.

"Dr. Simon do you see this list? It's of ten things to do before he dies and if you will not let him go I will make sure he dies knowing you didn't let him complete what he wanted." 

"May I?" He asked gesturing toward the list.  Leila slammed it in his hand and he slowly brought it to his eyes, "Can I borrow this for a second?" Without waiting for a reply he ran off-list in hand.  Ten minutes later he proceeded down the hall and returned it to her. "Go, take him around the world.  Make sure he finishes the list....doctors orders."

She looks just like her…so beautiful…Elissa will you be my Carrie Ann?  I cocked my head to the side to peer at the mere beauty of her, but also at the utter similarity she shared with my late sister. 

               

“Ryan are you okay?” Elissa rubbed the top of my hand and smiled before dropping her head back and staring at the sun.  I did the same. As she chatted at the forever distance of happiness before she met me-I thought of the short time I had with his beautiful baby sister. No more waiting. No more struggling alone in the midst of my past.  No more standing at the gate of eternal depression. Somehow I did the impossible: I took a step backwards towards happiness….but that was never meant to be.

               

Her silhouette danced along the tree trunks before breaking into a sprinting shadow.  Carrie Ann was running toward the people she saw leisurely golfing. I felt like I couldn’t run fast enough, my chest tightened and my throat was beginning to go into a searing pain.  When Carrie Ann, the real Carrie Ann, died I vowed to make it up to her and if this one got away, another attempt of getting revenge for my past…failed.  When my daydreaming closed I realized I had caught up with Carrie Ann.  There she was in front of me: white nightgown scraping the air, her screams piercing the blotted sky, tangled hair flying in terror behind her.  This was it. One leap and my fears were over. 

               

She’s dead.  Her closed eyes and soft lips respite forever.  Empty body, heartless and soulless,  now just another life gone and passed with time. Carrie Ann number three’s story had ended, but I refused to let my own go even if it meant being stuck in this same chapter for the rest of my life.  Happily ever after wasn’t good enough because for true happiness you need revenge. 

Prologue to Manitole and Santé Diego

Manitole and Santé Diego

Problem of the Air Tank

(Authors Note: This is a draft of a longer story I might write about.  Manitole is like present day police but stricter. And Santé Diego is like present day sun. In possible later chapters you will understand why the sun is called this.)

Earth had become a burden, if Christopher Columbus only knew what was to come he would have hoped the Earth really was square so he could sail off the edge into infinity. Even before that: Mother Earth would have ceased to continue caring for all of the inanimate life for it was only to go to waste in the next three thousand years.

Santé Diego had risen high into the sky and blotted it with light.  Everyone waited on their doorsteps along with the other two families assigned to live with them and chanted the morning prayer:

“Santé Diego we see your rising, we accept the rays you have offered. And if you….Santé Diego… ever not rise we shall ever mourn in the darkness.”

Manitole marched down the street assuring everyone’s mouth was moving in unison. Just last month, Little Tommy stood silently during the Morning Prayer and was taken away by the Manitole to jail.  No matter how much Tommy’s mother would have screamed-Manitole wouldn’t have even glanced back. 

                “Lea now we must go to the Breath Catcher, grab your tin.” Lea rushed inside under her mother’s orders and grabbed the awaiting tin on the counter which she connected to her mouth for her transporting air supply. Eventually the three families got into the back of a Manitole truck which took them to the BC Factory.  Lea took her mother Eva by the hand and got into the back of the line.  This is where Lea often read over the rules to occupy her time.

1.       Three air tanks per household.

2.       If you cannot pay the fee, you do not get your air tanks.

3.       Wait patiently, if any rowdiness occurs there will be no air tanks for one day for that particular household.

“Next.” A sturdy man called from behind the counter. Eva slipped him the coins. “Here is your air tank.” Eva took it slowly and scurried with Lea in hand to their Manitole truck.

Once home, Eva set their Air tank on the table and switched it to on.  Luckily, they were to have another day with fresh air unlike the poor who could not pay for this and were slowly dying of smaller and smaller amounts of quality air to breathe.

                No care. No helping. No easy way.  It was simply fighting for your life every single day.

No Trust No Heartbreak

(Authors Note: In this essay I compare three totally different people and find the one thing that all of them have in common.)

“You have to trust me.” Jacob, Stacey’s love of her life, didn’t want her to get hurt.  After all, he had come so far to save her. Stacey had to trust Jacob, but she went against her own heart and instead left him in the hall with a bruise on his head.  Maybe that’s why she ended up with a vicious murderer pinning her into the ground pressing a hammer into her cheek.  This part of White is for Magic is where the author, Laurie Stolarz, inferences on the fact that for Stacey to resolve her past she had to learn to trust the people she loved in the present. 

As Stacey slowly started trusting people, she was starting to resolve her past.  Maura was the first person she ever really loved and trusted entirely, though she was now 6 feet beneath the ground.  Murdered by a stranger who went by the name of Miles Parker.  Stacey much preferred to call him jerk face, but for the sake of public trials she had to settle for calling him Mr. Parker.  Though, you could clearly see now why her optimistic and vulnerable attitude closed out the world and let no one earn her trust.

                Shutting out and finding everyone untrustworthy was a way Stacey protected herself from getting hurt, much like Haymitch in the Hunger Games.  He convinced himself that everyone had their ugly side that would betray and hurt with no regret.  Soon, Haymitch made you realize that he himself sometimes turned into that ugly unbearable side as he taught Katniss and Peeta to make people like you, and then turn your back to win the Hunger Games.  This only made his trusting issue more visible. Even though he tried to cover it back up with whisky and beer, people had become aware of his problems.  

                Sometimes the trust isn’t lost in the early years. Guy Montag from Fahrenheit 451 had always put his soul into burning books.  Once he realized how much information was contained inside the leather covers, he attempted to cause a revolution that would make stories known to the whole city.  No one was the ‘good guy’ anymore because you couldn’t guess how much they might know. 

                Guy Montag, Haymitch, and Stacey all shut themselves out because of not wanting to get hurt or show any kind of feelings towards anything. Later in all the books though they earn peoples loyalty, respect, and most important-trust.  When people started showing this feeling towards them, their inferior attitudes broke down and they paid the same trust and affection towards others.