Vast HELL

It seemed idyllic. The simple, charming lifestyles that they all lived. They went to school, came back, and played outside. The kids had nothing to worry about. The parents went to work in their SUVs, grabbed a Starbucks on their way to work. They came back at 5, with some takeout, went in and watched TV. A simple lifestyle. Every Saturday they took out their children to the baseball game. Came home. Sundays were church which they really didnt attend all the time. Every Wednesday from 4:00-4:30 pm, five to six Mexicans would scurry across the lawn trimming everything, making everything tidy. They life seemed so simple.
Everything was fine outside. Inside, things got more interesting. In the red house on the corner, he beat her whenever she disobeyed. Two houses down, the wife was out for the weekend and the mistress was over. In between the two houses, he drank himself away, while she cried, as usually.
The kids were just as bad. As soon as his parents were sleeping, he snuck out at night. He goes out and vandalizes a wall. His grades a slipping. Another house, he didnt smoke pot today, his parents are wondering where his appetite went. The last house on the block, she starts crying as the pregnancy strip comes out positive.
The next morning, the kids wake up at 6 in the morning, and get ready for school. The parents drop them and go to work, stopping by for a Starbucks on the way. The come back at 5, which some takeout, go in a watch TV. A simple lifestyle

The Shining--Commercial

Thumbelina

LaTrina woke up to the jarring sound of bells. Her alarm clock rang 7 AM. Dagnabbit, she exclaimed, I'm going to be late for school. She hustled and got her things together. She quickly snatched a Kellogg Nutri-Grain Bar, and ran outside. She ran to school, with her iPod in her ears, bouncing in stride with the rhythm of her gangsta rap music. As Lil Jon and the Eastside Boyz blasted in her ears, her bookbag swayed side to side, in her lopping gait, as she tried to get to school as fast as possible without breaking into an unfeminine-like sweat. She turned the corner of the last street. She broke into a sprint, knowing full well what punishment lay ahead. The song "Get Low" (ft. The Ying Yang Twins) ended with Lil Jon grumbling out the last few "YEAH"s and "OK"s. As the song "Rep Your City" (ft. E-40, Petey Pablo, Bun B and 8 Ball)came on, LaTrina looked down and swiped her thumb against the piezoelectric screen of her iPod Touch. The time was displayed in bright white letters, 7:29, one more minute. As LaTrina looked up, almost immediately a large pole met her face. Her feet were still in sprint mode, and she flipped backwards, and her head hit the soft geese-shit ridden grass with a dull thump.
She woke up a few hours later, with a thumping headache. She rolled over and noticed a shiny object next to her. She picked it up, and it was a small cigar box. Hmmm, it was in accordance to New York State Law that tobacco should not be consumed within 500 feet of a school building. In the middle of her thinking, she realized that she still didnt go to school. Oh man, what time is it? She whipped out her cell phone as she tried to regain her balance. 12:14, oh god. cutting class, how had no one seen her. Wait. LaTrina noticed 3 new text messages. The first was from Richard, yo you wanna chill today. Today?, today was... Saturday? Oh, man all that work for nothing. Thats why no one saw her. She turned around to go home, put her iPod headphones snuggled back into her ears, and turned on "Play No Games" (ft. Fat Joe, Trick Daddy, Oobie). As she left, she decided to pick up the cigar box. She opened it, and inside there was a little Thumbelina.
LaTrina almost dropped the box in excitement. A Thumbelina? This was ludicrous. How is this possible? LaTrina took the thing home. She tried to ascertain if it was still living. It wasn't. All of a sudden she noticed the headache she had was gone. That was curious.
LaTrina went back home, and back to bed, putting the cigar box on the shoerack next to the door. She had to show her older brother, he would know what to do with it. Later that day, as the mail came, she her report came, and it was full of A+'s. Hmmm, I must have been really lucky.
When her brother came back from ballet practice, she showed him her amazing discovery. WOW, this is soo weird. Let me see this. As he brought it to his room, near his hidden cash stash, he noticed it doubled. He told this amazing discovery to LaTrina, and they both decided that it was the Thumbellina that gave them luck.
They nailed the dead Thumbelina in the front of their house so that it could give the whole household good luck.

Time to Sleep

It’s 12, “Ahh, screw this, I tell myself, I’m going to bed”.
Six hours later, I hear the door open, my mother walks in. “Bye, Vijay I’m going to work”. I fade back into unconsciousness,
only to be awoken by Dingle-Dingle-Dingle. The sound of my ringtone, “Yo Vijay, I can’t pick you up, I have an interview”.
I press the little button on the side of my phone. The number 7 1 and 3 are lighted up. 7:13, I can’t do this, 17 minutes to eat, take a shower, dress up, and walk to school. I set my alarm to 8:00. I’ll come in after 2nd.
8 o clock rolls around, I can’t do this, I have so much work to do, I’m too tired. There were too many excuses rolling around my head, and not enough good reasons to go to school. I call my mom. “Mom, call me in sick, I can’t go to school.” I know she will yell at me when she comes back, but she acquiesces for now, dutifully calling the attendance office.
I sleep until 9 o clock, ignoring the shrill of my alarm clock. I get up. Work, Work, Work. Leftover macro, refried calc. All my hw, that still need doing.
I’m stressed, there’s too much to do. Is it really worth it? Is pushing myself this hard going to make myself that much tired? Whats the use if I’m burnt out?
I go back to bed, and set my alarm clock to 3 o clock pm.

Why We Read

I read for pleasure. I read for knowledge. I read because I have to. These are the three main reasons anyone reads. When I was a small child, reading was considered a pleasure for me. I would love to curl up in bed with a good book that would transport me places. As I grew older and i started having more and more work, and as methods of pleasure became less intellectual. I saw and decrease in my reading. I entirely relied on sources such as Sparknotes to condense reading for me, so there was less for me to actually read.

Reading was soon transformed to a chore for me. I read mostly for knowledge (school books) and because I had to. I hope that this class, Responding to Literature, with its lax guidelines on which book to read, will let me rekindle the love I had for books.

Why You ALL Should Read The Kite Runner

The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini is a story about a young boy, Amir, who was born in Afghanistan. He was born into relative luxury. His best friend from his childhood was a servant boy named Hassan. Hassan and Amir are very close friends, and their friendship seems to be very strong. Through a series of very emotional and tragic events, surrounding the kite competition, Hassan and Amir, friends of almost 10 years break apart. The two break away following the political turmoil in Afghanistan as it falls into Russian hands. Amir and his father flee the country and it turns over to the Taliban regime.
In America, they make a life for themselves, and Amir is married to a girl he met there. Near the end, Amir must go back to Afghanistan and confronts his entire childhood, that he had left there.
I thought this book was really fast paced, and exciting. There were many scenes that evoked many emotions. Fear, joy, sadness, and biterness, to name a few. Overall, I would recommend this book to anyone that read. Khaled Hosseini has done an amazing job capturing the deviations of human emotions in this book.

Too Much to Feel

The smell of the spices coming from Ali's cooking in the kitchen.
The sight of the smoke curling up under the crack of the door of Baba's study.
The taste of naan and kofta, for breakfast.
The sound of Hassan clearing up my room, so that it is neat when I come home from school.
The feeling of the scrapes and scratches me and Hassan get from climbing the tree in the backyard.



Baba's thoughts of disappointment in me, when I cry when I fall.
His everlasting love for my servant/friend, Hassan.
Hassan's overwhelming loyalty, in the face of anything.
My shame, for taking his loyalty too far.
--Map Poem