Short Fiction (untitled)

What is a hashtag? Like, what is it actually supposed to be used for? #Idon’tknowwhattowriteabout. #It’scincodemayoIreallywantMexicanfood. Delilah struggled to think of what to write about. Why the fuck is this so difficult, she thought. She also wanted people to stop associating her name with the Plain White Ts. Tees? My name is Delilah as in Samson and Delilah and not the movie because apparently that exists. The song. Bacchanale from Samson and Delilah. The piece of music by Saint-Saëns.

Delilah continued to write down her thoughts, even though she was supposed to be writing an essay. On what?? God Dammit!!

Delilah was also in a state of mourning, as the cute seniors in her orchestra all graduate that year. God, she thought, now there is truly nothing to look forward to in orchestra. Except Sting. Sting is coming to rent out our orchestra hall for three days and I am so excited. But Mr. Blank won’t tell us the days. I understand, I guess.

Jugo, Juego. Jamon, jabon. Or is it japon? With or without an accent? Not sure, but those words always confused me in Spanish class.

One time Delilah was at church during school. Practically dying of boredom. Yawning constantly, and loudly. #moosecalls. Did You Konw taht wrdos wiretetn in a msesed up oedrr are sltil tlaloty lgielbe. As lnog as the fsrit and lsat ltretes are in the ccrerot pclae.

For thirty-five minutes Delilah sat in her chair staring at the notebook in front of her writing absolute nonsense. (was the notebook writing nonsense, or was she writing nonsense in the notebook?). When all of a sudden-

The floor opened up underneath her. It just opened up for a minute and Delilah looked down to see a deep, dark, chasm. Dark like outer space. There were stars and that was it. Like a galaxy. Then Delilah fell down into the dark, indigo galaxy-desk, chair, paper, pencil and all. (She was only using a pencil because her fountain pen was out of ink and she was out of cartridges. Normally she would NEVER write an essay in pencil. God.) Delilah was falling, falling, falling, falling, falling, falling, falling, falling, falling, falling. And also falling. Why the hell am I falling, she thought. If I am in outer space there shouldn’t be gravity. Right? Maybe this was actually what the bunny hole looked like. Maybe Alice in Wonderland was based on a story that was so crazy, that Lewis Carroll knew people would think it was crazy and not possible based on science, so he changed the bunny hole from a gravityless galaxy to a bookshelf. Also, did you know that I hate my name? I think it is so boring, and not unique. The only benefit is that cursive Ds are really fun to write. My signature is pretty great I guess. She kept on thinking.

The whole time she was thinking, the scenery around her stayed constant. She was in a galaxy until finally she landed on one of Saturn’s rings. Saturn was her favorite planet, so that’s cool. Of course it isn’t possible to actually stand on the rings. They’re rocks and stuff. But I was standing, sure enough. Delilah looked around her to see flowers growing all over Saturn. Lots of irises, and purple flowers. Some dahlias too as well as orchids. The orchids were all part of huge plants with long branches covered in blossoms draping over the land and the rings of Saturn. This is actually crazy. Maybe I’m lucid dreaming. I’ve always wanted to lucid dream, but I couldn’t imagine falling asleep in class for this long. I’m a light sleeper. Plus I just would never fall asleep in class. Hard desks and bony fingers = no pillow. Like that song called bony fingers. Actually I don’t know what that song is about I just know the title of it is Bony Fingers. Delilah continued writing.

If I’m lucid dreaming, I can kill myself and I’ll be fine. Alright let’s try this. Shit I forgot my pocket knife. Jk I don’t have one. Oh and by the way I’m not like suicidal or anything. The pocketknife is so I can do crafts wherever I am in case I forget my preferred tools. It’s my backup ya know? Of course, I don’t have a pocketknife so what am I saying. I did but I think it got taken away at the airport. Another time they had to check my foot cast for bombs, it was kinda cool.

Will rubber bands shoot in space? Guess I’ll never know because I don’t have one with me. I do, but I need it for my hair. Just in case it grows long enough to put it up. Delilah went to sleep and then woke up. What time is it? I don’t know. 10 yards in front of her, off the edge of the ring was a white hole. No. It was a transparent glass tube, or tunnel actually. It started but it was only about 6 feet long and then it disappeared into space (no pun intended). Delilah crawled across the floor (there’s no floor actually, it’s just outer space, but it feels like a floor. Don’t ask why.) She crawled up to the tunnel, leaving her desk behind sitting on the rings being wrapped up and strangled and pulled in by the flowers which were growing unusually quickly. Holding her pencil and paper, Delilah set herself in the tunnel, and let go.

There was a bright light-and then darkness. Delilah was blinded and began seeing stars. They were actually real stars (though she didn’t know that). She was falling down a tunnel in outer space. It was like those water slides at water parks-curvy tubes basically. Would it be a bad idea if I fell asleep? I’m really sleepy but what if this tunnel lands on fire or something. Ok but now what? I have a paper due by the end of class and I’m in the middle of outer fucking space. I begin quoting riddles. Sometimes I wonder if I am the only real person existing. Sometimes I think that maybe everyone else in the world. Every human being, every animal, every plant, every place, every material object is only a projection and I am the one and only human being that is being observed and tested by scientists above. Maybe they’re aliens and maybe there is no Earth or outer space or even other parallel universes. What if I am the only human in existence because they don’t exist yet. I am the prototype. The scientists are performing millions of tests on me constantly-how much stress can my brain handle, how much physical activity do I need, how does love affect me, what are my flaws? From an iron deficiency to weak, sloped shoulders, to a chemical imbalance in my brain that makes me distracted by everything everywhere all the time for no good reason simply because I am interested. Is being interested a bad thing? Will it affect my future and now they are trying to find a way to fix it? Or is it beneficial because it makes me more creative and knowledgeable on a variety of topics, just not the ones I am supposed to learn because apparently an education will get me into a college and a job and a family and eventually happiness???

Whatever. I kept falling through the slide/tunnel for several hours. It was truly beautiful-way better than Space Mountain. I watched an alien pass by. It was pretty ugly, your classic alien- giant eyes, skinny neck and arms and legs, long skinny fingers, tiny nose, tiny mouth. Of course I try not to prejudge people so we went out for tea instead, to get better acquainted.

She didn’t have a name. Or a gender for that matter, I just assumed she was female based on her stance and her personality. She was rather choosy and very impatient. Even stubborn. Although she didn’t speak a single word. She kept staring off into space as if something was worrying her. She was lost maybe. In space.

I told her I’d like to see where she lives. Maybe she didn’t understand me or maybe she didn’t have a home, because she led me through space for hours and hours on end, as if following an endless road to the ocean.

After a week, (or at least I think it was a week. I only slept four hours) I asked the alien how I was to get home. She didn’t answer, as expected, so I forgot about it. In fact, not only did I forget about going home, I wanted to stay there. In space. With her. We had so much fun drinking tea, walking around the different planets. She even brought me to another galaxy. I guess there wasn’t really anything to do, but I was entertained and more importantly, I felt at home.

What the heck though. I began changing-like physically. My fingers are growing super super long and my thumbs and pinkies are disappearing. They just started shrinking. At first I thought this was just me growing, maybe you grow faster in space, idk. But then my hair started falling out. And I was having these piercing migraines constantly. I kept getting muscle cramps in my legs and they seemed to be growing unusually fast. I was also becoming cold-I was freezing all the fucking time and my skin was so pale.

The alien was changing too. You know how most kids are afraid of aliens? Well I wasn’t at first, but now I am. She’s greedy now and holds on to me like she is keeping me from someone else. If I try to wander off she won’t let me! She literally grabs my arm and pulls me with her. I’m sincerely afraid now. I liked space but the alien won’t let me go anywhere on my own and she’s SCARING ME! I WANT TO LEAVE HER AND I TRY I TRY SO HARD I LEAVE HER WHEN SHE IS ASLEEP AND I THINK I GET FAR BUT SHE FINDS ME SO FAST AND THEN SHE GETS ANGRY AND GRABS ME HARDER AND DRAGS ME AWAY FROM WHERE I WANT TO be WHICH IS HOME.

I curled up in a ball trying to fall asleep on the rings of Saturn. Out of my peripheral vision I see the alien striding towards me, quickly. I immediately jump to my feet and as she approaches I draw my hand back and once she is a foot from me without thinking I punch her solid in the head right between her two enormous dark eyes. The momentum makes me lose my balance and all of a sudden I am falling fast again through space.

I close my eyes and start to cry. The tears fly away but the pain stays with me. I want to go home. I want to leave this place. When will I????

*Bee-dee-dee-deep. Bee-dee-dee-deep. Bee-dee-dee-deep. Bee-dee-dee-deep. I sit up abruptly and slam my hand on my alarm clock. Damn that shit. Instantly I realize where I am, which is not space. I am home I am home holy shit oh my gosh. dear good thank you. I leeap out of bed with a million volts of energy and pull open my blinds to reveal the bright sun that has been hidden from me for what seems like years. I jump off my bed and run to the mirror in our hallway. - My heart drops and my insides shake. I don’t look like myself. My hair is practically gone and I have three fingers on each hand and my nose has almost disappeared completely. My knees shake and I feel like throwing up. It’s just a dream it’s just a dream. I”m stil dreaming. I was lucid dreaming and i haven’t gotten out of it yet it’s ok just go to sleep and wake up again. I lay down in my bed and close my eyes tight.

Finally I open them for a split second only to scream when I see the stars again all around me and feel that familiar feeling of my stomach dropping. I’m falling again through space and I land with a hard crash on top of the rings of an unknown planet. I frantically come to my senses but I can’t move because I’m paralyzed with fear. Shaking, I slowly turn my head around and look up to see the alien. She just stares down at me except this time, there is clear emotion in her face. It is a frightening look of fury, rage, and animosity, with a twinkle/glint/gleam of happiness. And now, I have finally given up.

Old money, New money, and everybody else

In "The Great Gatsby", the East and West Egg people are characterized by their wealth, or rather where it came from. The West egg people, according to my notes, are the newly rich, the "nouveau rich". According to the East Egg people, West eggs lucked in to their wealth. Since they are new to wealth, they simply got lucky because they weren't born into it like the East eggs. I think it's pretty obvious they didn't just "luck into it", they worked hard and became rich. The East eggs inherited their wealth, they were born into it and didn't necessarily have to work at all. I actually used spark notes to help me understand this because I was kind of confused. Spark notes said that the East Eggers looked at the West eggers as "vulgar" and "ostentatious". The West eggs didn't have social class, grace, or a charisma. Like a kid who gets money for his birthday and goes out and spends it all. Not that the West eggs spend all their money, but more like they just aren't used to being rich so they act in ways the East Egg calls "gaudy". Gatsby spends tons of money on insane, elaborate parties that cost a fortune, while Tom and Daisy are more reserved with their spending. They certainly spend a lot but don't make a public affair of it. There is definitely a sense of "we're-better-than-you" coming from East Egg. I don't like the East egg people. I think they're snotty and sort of stuck up. Of course I'm not one to judge since I only know one couple really well from East Egg, but so farr, I don't like them. the West Egg people, like Nick seem kinder and more fulfilled. Like, Nick seems nicer, I think, because he had to work for what he has. He has an appreciation for all of it because he knows what it is worth. The Buchanans certainly do as well, it just seems like they don't find it as special as Nick, because they're used to it. Gatsby I think appreciates his wealth just as Nick does, but instead of reserving it, uses it to his full advantage. I don't think his crazy spending is a bad thing; he's just using all of his resources wisely and he doesn't have parties for his own pleasure really. They make other people, strangers happy, which is a nice thing to do. Maybe I'm wrong, but I feel like if the Buchanans were to have a party, it would partially be held to show off their wealth. 

I am thankful for...

..Jillian! LOL that sounds so weird.
I am in Eco club aand, this seems really lame but I was sort of nervous going there for the first time. It was the beginning of September, or mid september I think and I still did not know many people at school and eco club had been going on since the first day of school. I wasn't sure if I was going to walk into the club behind on everything, not knowing what's going on. It was stupid but I have anxiety like that-like I'm really shy. So anyhow, it turned out that Jillian was going as well! So I was actually really excited to know someone a part of it. So, we just walked in and she introduced me to some people and-I mean really all she did was help me understand what was going on so I wouldn't have to ask a complete stranger. It was very helpful. This probably seemed really lame but She was so helpful to me, in my situation and nervousness around people. 

I Celebrate Myself

Well, so I'm not sure at all what this post should be about. The prompt is very open-ended, so pardon me if what I write isn't what you had in mind. Idk.
"I celebrate myself" means, I think that-well another way of boasting about yourself. But it's not necessarily a bad thing, to talk good about yourself. In fact, I think it can be a good thing since in our society all that's normal and good is humility and extreme humility and self consciousness. You know I'm sure most of us had that time in grade school during art when "Oh! yours is so good!" "Oh no. It's bad, yours is good!" When, the second statement could be a complete lie. or when you got a super hard test back and the conversation went like this- "whoa! you got an A+! Everybody, soandso got 100%!" "oh no-I didn't. *hides test in folder". or the kid who flipped out because they got a b instead of an A. We, (of course I don't mean everyone, just the people who share these experiences) are so used to acting so modest and not recognizing our talents, or greatness and I don't think it's a good thing. If you draw a really great picture that everyone is complimenting on, accept those compliments. I knew a girl who was so great at painting that she's sold a few already, and she just pushed way all of the compliments anyone gave her with "oh. no it's bad". Like- no! it's obviously not bad, just say thank you! It became frustrating to the point that we all just stopped complimenting her art. Also, I completely understand where she's coming from. Playing along with "I celebrate myself", I was pretty good in art as well! My self portrait got hung up in the glass box! And so I know how it feels to have people bombarding you with compliments. This also happened with grades- people holding up my test for the entire class to see. I know how tempting it is to say "no, it's bad", but I don't. I say thanks, sometimes keep my head down because I'm embarrassed, but I don't reject what others say. It's a lot more relaxing and comfortable when the person accepts their compliments. Don't get me wrong, this isn't saying boast about everything you do, because people really don't care. But when you're given a compliment, accept it, because rejecting it honestly makes the person look scared and like they have zero confidence. 
p.s. to read this, use your mouse to highlight it. sorry, i have to go in rainbow order. 

EAP

Edgar Allan Poe had kind of an unfortunate life as a child. He had two siblings, Henry and Rosalie. His parents separated and his mom died when he was only two. After that, he and his siblings basically split up and were adopted by different family and strangers. Edgar's new parents were well off, his dad was a successful merchant. So, he was able to receive a good education. Theennnn he started drinking, ran into debt, and dropped out, or rather, quit school. He joined the army for some time, then joined out. Once out, Poe had no money, no job, and his adoptive father died and did not include Poe in his will. eventually Poe got a job as a newspaper editor, but then left that job and married his cousin, Virginia. I know what you're thinking-ew. oh it just gets worse.  She was 13, he was 27-that's like Beethoven crushing on his 17 year old student and composing a song for her. So after he married, Poe kept writing, poems and short stories, and longer ones. Several were published, but he didn't get any money for any of it.
So we have this general information about Poe, there are also lots and lots of myths. The first and foremost-his death. Some people say he was murdered, that is where there is the most evidence, but there really weren't any facts about his death. and that is a fact, about is death. there were none. facts. I love Edgar Allan Poe, particularly his short stories, particularly The Black Cat and The Tell-Tale Heart. and The Pit and the Pendulum. Poe is dark and death and ghouls and cats, and shadows and hauntings and murders and that...is all I can think of. He is so cool. Sometimes I get so sick of regular poetry. The kind about love, about victory, about life- finally! Someone who put scary into good use! Poems and short stories don't always have to be happy or sad or reminiscing. They don't have to be an enigma or a puzzle to solve and understand. I like Poe's writing because I can understand it and it uses more common language and it is interesting! I have never read anything by him that hasn't interested me. God bless ya Poe

What is an American

I think that American is an adjective that shouldn't be used to describe a nationality. I don't think anyone can be American in that sense. America is described as a melting pot, or a salad sometimes (which I believe to be more accurate). Either way, America is made up of lots of different cultures, races and nationalities. There is no set race in America, therefore I don't think anyone should say that their nationality is American. If you're "American", you could be Italian, Polish, German, Mexican, Indian, Spanish, Korean- literally any nationality.
       By calling yourself an American I think it should describe your culture. For example: eating American food like hamburgers and hot dogs and meatloaf; that is food that originated in America. It may have elements from different nationalities, but it came about in America.
      Besides American culture, there are elements that are part of our Constitution or ideas that came from the first explorers that still are a part of America today. We talked about this a lot but it is really true: freedom and opportunities. America is considered the land of opportunities, the New World. Immigrants came originally to escape their homelands that had whatever problems-famine, government, warfare- whatever the reason, they came here, to America. All in all I think an American is a person who lives in America. Not necessarily from America, but who lives here and shares the American culture and ideas. If someone lives in America, then they automatically put themselves in American culture, even if they keep some of their own nationality's culture, it's impossible for them not to be exposed to American ideas. 

The Modern Puritan

The modern puritan in my opinion, is a stereotypical high school. By that I mean, not ours, but what you might commonly see in movies and TV shows, e.g- Mean Girls. I'll start off with characteristics of a Puritan. They're strict in what they believe, children are expected to-not act like children- be stone faced, quiet and basically attract no attention. And to be general-they make a mountain out of a molehill. Now with all due respect, that was a huge generalization, however, based on the one and a half stories we read about puritans, that generalization has been true. In the Crucible, the entire town had a fit when one man found some girls dancing in the woods and several of them cried witchcraft. In the Scarlet Letter something similar happened when a woman committed adultery. Now how does this compare to a stereotypical high school? well there are different cliques, and if you are unique to all of them, you have no place to go. You stand out because you don't conform. Puritans were all expected to live similar lives with humility, thriftiness, and not standing out. If you did something out of the ordinary, it was obvious, people noticed and it was a big deal. If you do something or wear something out of the ordinary at a stereotypical high school, it's going to make a scene, and you possibly won't be accepted into certain cliques because you aren't conformed. Another example is gossip. Gossip spreads like wild fire and if someone hears something from someone else, the entire school could know about it by the end of the week. Little, unimportant things become a huge deal just like in the Crucible. the last example I have is about how puritan children are supposed to act. I compare this to freshman and the upperclassmen. Now I wouldn't say freshman are supposed to act solemn and quiet, but they are treated like that. They are treated as inferiors to the seniors and not included in certain activites etc..
     So, ultimately I don't believe there is any group of people as extreme as the puritans were, however the examples I gave were pretty close in some aspects.


* also just to clarify yet again, i was talking about stereotypical high schools, so no offense meant to anybody.