Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Autumn

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.
-Emily Dickinson 
Happy Thanksgiving:)

Monday, November 21, 2011

A Dream I had - "Night In The Alley"

A few weeks ago I had this dream (when I woke up I quickly checked to see if my sister was alive):

My friends and I were all sitting in a circle on someone's yard, in an alley. A few days before this, my sister died in a car accident with her friend and my friends were trying to cheer my up. We were all talking, and then I heard a noise in the distance yelling, "Mia, where are you?" over and over again. I looked around but saw nothing. A few minutes later I heard it even louder, coming from behind me. I turned around and there was my sister and her friend, Molly. I was so confused and felt exuberant when I was running up to hug her in her wide open arms. When I was a centimeter away from her, I jumped up and flew right through her. I fell on the cement, and realized that she was just a ghost visiting from the dead.

Writing

As I write these posts, I feel so happy. I love to write, like a ballerina loves to dance. For my whole life, I have had great English teachers that taught me how to write, including my parents. The words are all jumbled up in my brain, and all of a sudden they form a new story. My English teacher now, taught me how to express my self using words. She inspired me to create this blog; sharing my ideas with other people and being more open.

This one quote reminds me about how much I love to write:
"For me, writing is exploration; and most of the time, I'm surprised where the journey takes me" - Jack Dann
 Whenever I read this, I think about my self. I never know what I am going to write about, but when I start everything starts making sense. When I am done with the story, I feel like I went a long journey and experienced many things. This is the effect I get when I write, and I love it.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Favorite Quotes

"There's not a liberal America and a conservative America; there is the United States of America. There's not a black America and a white America and Latino America and Asian America; there is the United States of America"- Barack Obama

"Gratitude is one of the sweet shortcuts to finding peace of mind and happiness inside. No matter what is going on outside of us, there's always something we could be grateful for." -Barry Neil Kaufman

My opinion of the second quote is very positive. It makes so much sense, even if you are having a hard time in life (whats going on outside of  you), you can still be grateful for something.


Saturday, November 19, 2011

A Garden That Smiled


A lot of things used to grow and be in this garden; mostly flowers. They were all different colors, blue, green, yellow, and red. Every time I glanced at them, they would grow taller and taller. A big red maple tree stood over me if anything bothered me, or if I felt sad. It would wrap his long, thick branch around my shoulder and smile, making me feel comfortable and happy.
            I used to lie down next to the tree and close my eyes while bright sun shone down on my face; a warm and relaxing feeling. I could never fall asleep with the sound of the buzzing bees swarming around my head, cheering and singing a song that used to put me in a good mood.
            In the far right corner of the exuberant wonderland was a blue pond. The water glittered when a touch of sunlight hit it. The pebbles at the bottom of the pond felt cold when I reached down to grab them and place them in my hot palm, making me feel relaxed and peaceful. The water dripped through my fingers and onto my bare feet, creating a few goose bumps on my legs. It’s not until long when the pond over flows with the tree’s leaves. They fall one by one counting all of the people I lost in my life, one being the garden. Watching the tree get old and bare made me feel sad, hoping the leaves would grow back soon.
            One day I looked outside my window, watching the pond turn to ice and the dirt become hard and solid. I used zigzaggery to get to the wonderland, walking on and off the small, thin path. The snow fell from the sky with a concise pattern, leaving me speechless when the beautiful white dots fell from the gray, boring sky. My feet made footprints in the snow and a small squeaking noise came from it, every time I took a step.
            When the coldest season goes by, I feel grateful that the garden will come back to life. I built a new bench that I sit on, so I can watch everything that happens in the garden, and watch the plants grow like I am there mother, always protecting them. The first few daises pop up, and then it’s the azaleas, daises, and daffodils. The bright sun comes out from behind the clouds and thanks me for taking care of the garden.
I sit on the bench until there is nothing left in the garden, nothing but trash. Paper, Plastic, and Cardboard replace the flowers. The tree is old and leans in a crooked way, putting a frown on my face whenever I look at it. I open up the little bag in my hand and plant the first flower, and I smiled as it laughed and danced.

"A Narrow Fellow In The Grass"- Emily Dickinson

A narrow Fellow in the Grass
Occasionally rides-
You many have met Him-did you not
His notice sudden is-

the Grass divides as with a Comb-
A spotted shaft is seen-
And then is closes at your feet
And opens further on-

He likes a Boggy Acre
A Floor too cool for Corn-
Yet when a Boy, and Barefoot-
I more than once at Noon

Have passed, I thought, a Whip lash
Unbraiding in the Sun
When stooping to secure it
It wrinkled, and was gone-

Several of Nature's People
I know, and they know me-
I feel for them a transport
Of cordiality

But never met this Fellow
Attended, or alone
Without a tighter breathing
And Zero at the Bone-

-Emily Dickinson