Lyrically Speaking

“We didn’t start the fire!” Vinia sings as she plays into air guitar.

“We didn’t light it but we tried to fight it,” I join in with light headbanging as a personal touch.

“Ladies, I’m going to have to excuse you from the premises,” Vinia and I turn, I burst into a hysteria of laughter and throw my arms around Taven, “Ma’m please keep your hands to yourself,” he continues and holds me tight before releasing me.

“Oh I see how it is, so rude, fine. I’ll just go,” I wipe a non-existent tear from under my eye. Taven laughs and smiles irresistibly.

“Come on Rain, you know I wouldn’t be here without you,” we exchange a knowing look and I give in to a bright grin, “Now, did y’all start the fire?”


New Beginnings

New years. Woo. A time for everyone to come up with a plan for the new year, stick to it for maybe a week and either “forget” about it or, for the more honest of us, just completely drop it without shame.

I don’t believe in having a new years resolution. If you really need a tradition to get you to better yourself then whats the point of trying? If anyone truly wanted to become better they wouldn’t wait for the new year to start before they worked on self improvement. No, if a person actually wants to improve themself they would simply notice the problem and immediately start on improvements.

However, this is not the case for many of us. Including myself, I often find myself saying “I will get this done” with the immediate following thought of “hahah, no I won’t” and low and behold, that thing never gets done. Perhaps I, along with many others with this same thought process, need to start saying “I will get this done” and instead of laughing at ourselves and our feeble promise, actually follow through and get it done.


What is the definition of weird? Wheres the line as to what is normal and what is weird? And when you say weird what do you mean? Are you talking about something being quirky? Or are you referring to something being creepy?

I suppose it all depends on your perspective, but how do you know if your perspective isn’t weird? Or how do you know if its normal? Do we define it as majority rules? Hmm

My Favorite Character

I slowly drag myself from the couch up to the front door as I hear the persistent knocking. Geez, who honestly needs me to answer the door this bad? I ask myself as I lock my jaw and quicken my pace ever so slightly.

I swing open the door and raise my eyebrow as I observe the little annoyance at my door. A small framed, almost nerd-looking guy stands in front of me with a goofy girlish smile streaked across his face. He shuffles a bit, adjusting his polo shirt and swiping the hair from his eyes. But never drops his gaze from my face, nor does he rid of that absurd grin.

“Can I help you?” I back up a bit from the door and zip up my jacket.

“You are my absolute favorite character!” He almost squeaks, “I know how it ends and I want to change it,” this statements falls from his mouth without a bright smile. Just a grimly serious look.

I blink slowly at him before sighing in exasperation, pulling my hair up into a messy bun and shutting the door on his face.  The knocking continues, Why not just use the doorbell too, psycho, 

“Please, please just come out of here and I’ll show you what I mean,” concern and urgency strain his voice as he pounds. I pause in the hallway connecting the living room to the front porch, and debate moment. After about a minute of his relentless pleading I decide to humor him. I grab my pocket knife and slip it into my sleeve then proceed to open the door.

“Oh thank you! Ok, follow me,” the boy takes ahold of my arm and half drags me off the steps and into the street. He then picks up a pole just long enough to reach my door from our stand point and pushes the door bell. I hear an explosion and run in to see what happened.

I crash into the house and am taken aback from the amount of smoke, I drop to the ground and crawl around to find out what exactly blew up. I find my microwave in pieces. Panic and insane thoughts cross my mind. But through all the madness I form on full thought. Either this nerd is telling the truth about me being a book character, or I’m dealing with a crazy stalker. 

The Night

I walk down the long barren path. Moonlight dappling the dirt infront of me through the thin canopy of hanging branches. Peace fills me and I contemplate skipping, although restrain myself for respect of the silence. Instead I just smile and let lungs fill with the crisp night air. Something about the night seems to cleanse everything, nothing is searching for shade to retreat in, no one is cranky because of the uncomfortable heat. Most of the obnoxious noises are long since unconscious and give the dwellers of the dark a break for a short whimsical time. How can so many fear this sense of peace and tranquility?


Dreams are a funny and interesting concept. In our slumber they are driven by our subconscious, during our wake they are created by far fetched goals. Sometimes, both our waking dreams and our subconscious ones influence each other. Not always positively though. My subconscious dreams tend to put down and point out flaws in my waking dreams, or they’ll often exploit my fears. I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve awoken in a panic. Struggling to settle my racing heart and convince myself it wasn’t real. My imagination consumes my sleeping thoughts in ways I’d prefer it didn’t. And people wonder why I have a hard time sleeping.


Melly walked through the large doors. Hoping her clumsiness wouldn’t draw too much attention to herself. As she climbed the steps to her first class she can tell it won’t be easy, already she’s almost slipped and fallen on her face. Sweat covers the palms of her hands. Great, just another issue. Melly thinks as she unsuccessfully attempts to dry her hands on her pants. She walks faster, unsure if that is the best plan of action. Once she reaches the classroom’s heavy wooden door, she pauses, breathes deeply, and twist the door knob.

She stares at her feet, one step then another, one step then another, anxiety fills her chest as she tries so desperately to find her seat without an accident. So close, you’re almost there. Then, it happens. She trips, ever so slightly, over her own foot. Everything around her goes crashing down, first she grasps at the chair to balance herself, then the table cloth, along with every. single. test-tube.

Melly’s face burns with embarrassment, but the dramatic gasps and anger she expects never comes. Instead everyone is… laughing, and not the kind that’s hurtful, they’re laughing while congratulating her. Confusion and a slight, hesitant smile peaks on her face.

Melly looks up at the board and sees the date… April 1st, luckily everyone thinks this is a joke.