Every year between third grade and eleventh grade, my teachers had a poetry unit. And every year, I was forced to study the same things over and over again: Rhyming couplets Haikus Onomatopoeia Meters Similes Metaphors and so many more that I can't think of at the top of my head. In the beginning, I … Continue reading Poetry’s Death.
I still keep a personal journal, not just an online one. I would like to tell you it's because there's something about having a pen in hand and putting black ink to white paper, but that's not it. At least, that's not the major part of it; in fact, it's only a small sliver of … Continue reading Writing Privately.
Keep writing until the writing feels natural. Keep writing until the creativity flows and it's not something to consciously think about. It doesn't matter what others think as long as you keep writing. The readers will follow if the writing keeps coming. The mantra is told and re-told until I'm almost convinced. But then I … Continue reading The Flow of Writing.
I don't watch a lot of movies or television in general. I've been that way since I was a small child. I just never got the point of sitting in front of the television and seeing flashing colorful images worm their way into your brain. Yes, I do watch it on occasion. And yes, I … Continue reading The Death of Hollywood.
"I can't keep that up: if I'm watched to that extent, I start by getting snappy, then unhappy, and finally I twist my heart round again, so that the bad is on the outside and the good is on the inside and keep on trying to find a way of becoming what I would so … Continue reading The Last Entry to Be Written.
There are certain moments that we carry with us. Unexpectedly, they come forth to us and we remember. How we remember and perceive them can often change, even though we don't often see it. I want you to think that you're the same in the eye of my mind, but you have shifted and morphed … Continue reading What We Carry.
This is the spot I remember, the place where time stood still. You stared at me and I was lost in you. I couldn't move, but from within I moved in all directions. The statue of your image couldn't have been more still than what I saw before me. A living perfection; I wanted no … Continue reading Just One Time.