Here is my monologue. I have already presented it in class, so I suppose this is mere formality. There are children running and screaming beneath me. It is annoying. I don’t like it. Conversely, here is a list of things that I do like: pizza, beer, the four albums that Genesis released in the 1980s, the work of Scottish philosopher David Hume, sleeping straight through the night, silence (but not so silent so as to hear myself or anyone else eating), John Steinbeck’s “Cannery Row,” and a number of other things. I don’t like a lot of things that aren’t the aforementioned things. Well, I’m going to get back to doing something more productive with my time. Bye.
What a beautiful sight,
Of this wonderful land
A familiar place
A strange new perception
Many people are lucky enough to see this lovely view every so often
To every now and then, rise above the life they’re used to
The sight of these cycles of divine vibrations caused by the dark green ocean
dotted with animals silhouettes
The peace of wrinkles all surround this large island
This oddly shaped island
Grey Stripes, Dotted and aligned with bright Christmas lights
Christmas lights fencing in these large, brightly lit chess pieces
Largely shaped chess pieces
Oddly shaped chess pieces
Shapes of all different color and sizes
Some looking like grave stones,
Others like dominoes
Looks like I may even be able to hop from piece to piece
I sure would hate to fall on one of those pointy needles.
Into the grey skies
I am too weak to emote my words. I am sorry. I am sorry for hurting you, for making you seem unimportant and meaningless in my life when its actually the opposite, for ignoring you, for being a know-it-all abrasive bitch, for being selfish, for acting like I don’t care, for disappointing you, for blaming you, for killing your happiness and my own, for all the misplaced anger, for all the things I couldn’t say. We think after we beg for forgiveness we will fix all of our errs but in reality we just create more, as we get older the extent our mistakes just grow and we dig ourselves into even deeper holes.
I will never be alone.
I have the pounding reminder of your existence,
the ringing shrill in my head.
The voice of reason.
The voice that haunts.
I walk with the knowledge that plagues me,
I carry it with me.
I carry it all.
My life, my soul, changes every day
but the ringing ceases to stop.
What is found cannot be lost
Usually, I’m fine, I get out of bed and move on with my day, but there’s those times when everything hurts and it seems like there’s nothing left. The days between grow longer, and happiness stays for more and more but the pain and longing is still there, deep below all the moments of everyday life.
Wake up… Get dressed… walk to the store.
Scan in Say hello, grab a draw
Guess Im ready…
no more no less.
For the next 9 hours that’s all I’ll be.
Next can step over please.
It’s the same routine
one after the other
“Hello, How are you?”
“How are you” they respond.
But that is not an appropriate response!
You cannot answer a question with the same question
Do people even Listen to me?
“Thank you have a nice day”
Next can step over please
I ring up their items
I put them in the bags
but never the way they want
They throw money at me
and place it on the moving converybelt
I dive to grab it before it rolls under forever to be lost.
They look at me and ask “Well why does it move”
I stare at them in disbelief. It’s a converybelt I think
thats what it was made to do.
I smile, I apologize. Thank you for coming, have a nice day.
Next can step over please
One after the other
after the other… after the other…
the same routine, everyday.
It’s clocking out time.
I hand in my draw.
I am back to being me
I am Crystal not 103.
Damn school stinks. Like I wake up every morning to take a long ass train ride to Baruch College. All I want to do is what I want to do. I just want to eat halal and a play basketball. Thats it. Im just playing but seriously Hala food is really good.I want to do stuff that I enjoy doing. Not sitting in class everyday learning about logs that I will never have to use for the rest of my life. Or better yet listen to my pain in the neck music professor who thinks we all love Mozart and Operas. My Anthropology professor loves to talk about herself and all her “anthropologic” accomplishments while noone even cares. I just want to have fun. I’m 18 years old and want to things that I enjoy doin without anyone telling me otherwise.
I sat there drinking my coffee. It gave me a cozy feeling, holding the mug as it warmed up my cold hands. The kind of warmth that spreads through your entire being. For those several moments, everything feels so pleasant, out of harm’s reach. I sat there, wondering through my thoughts. Til it hit me off guard. There was a crack in the mug. Someone had put it back together. Sure, it works.. sure it gets the job done..sure it seems perfectly fine, but it will never be what it used to. It was a broken mug; no matter how many people drank from it, denying that it was flawed, trying to see past it… I knew the truth, and no matter how many times it could break and is put back together, it’ll never ever ever be back to its original form. It was then that I started to look around me, and I started to wonder, and my heart started to feel heavy, filling with emotion, nervously trying to swallow it down, to make the feeling go away. How many people do we pass everyday, interact with everyday, talk to everyday? Do we see the cracks they hide? Why do people pretend they’re okay when they’re not? Pretending that those cracks aren’t there, making believe they don’t exist. How could we be so oblivious to it? The people we love, the people we would do anything for, filled with so much pain. The people that give us those cozy feelings, the ones that warm up our cold hands. The kind of warmth that spreads through your entire being. And when you’re with them, for those several moments, everything feels so pleasant, out of harm’s reach.
Damn I could use a drink. You ever just say that to yourself sometimes at random times. I think we can all use a drink.
And by drink I do mean alcohol, not like water or something. I say everyone reading this or hearing this should get up go to the store buy some type of alcohol and drink. Lets all be drunk today and enjoy life. Ahhhhh that taste good doesn’t it? Im not like an alcoholic but I do like to drink. People that don’t drink always surprise me, they’re like Ooooo I don’t drink and im like ehhhhhhhhhh sure sure. Remember there’s nothing wrong with drinking if it makes you feel good. Who ever says other wise can go well you know. Drink up kidssssss.
Followers on social media
Do they really matter in the climb to stardom
Well self proposed stardom
I never thought a number mattered
I just thought posting my own thoughts online
Would never get me anywhere
But I was wrong
People message me every day
“You’re a huge inspiration to me”
“I look up to you so much”
“I wish I could have your life”
Is this what fame is
People loving you, when they don’t even know you?
People coming up to you at events,
Saying they love what you write on your twitter,
And your blog.
I don’t think any of that even matters
It’s like I’ve always been “famous”
Fame comes from the inside, not the outside
If you feel famous on the inside, the rest will come
I walk down the street like a star,
Until that lie becomes the truth.
I’m becoming my own self fulfilled prophecy.
I have curly hair that is too big for me, and one might say that I would trade it away if I could. I live in a city called New York, transplanted from a place of farms and Hershey’s chocolate. I prefer Brooklyn to Manhattan and I prefer Fig Newtons to Chip Ahoys. Oreos, however, beat both. I’ve made the mistake of falling in love with a musician and I’ve made the mistake of falling in love too late– but I’m in a relationship now with an artist and he’s defying all the rules for love and I’m in love with who I am when I’m with him.
I don’t believe I am a constant and I don’t believe I’m good all the time– but I believe that I try when I remember and that I love with my heart and that I care with more energy than I have to offer and that’s what counts. I write things and they aren’t always perfect but it’s important that I try and not trash the paper because it’s the only thing that grounds me and calms me.
I believe that things happen when they happen and I believe that I will happen. I am a poem in progress.
When I first came to Baruch I expected to be lonely for a while because none of my friends from Highschool came here. I was afraid that I would be lonely just like how I was in middle school. You see I had problems with making friends in middle school because I wasn’t born in the United States, so English wasn’t my first language. I came to America when I was in 4th grade. I was scared out of my mind because it’s an unfamiliar environment for me. I was often bullied in middle school because I couldn’t speak the language that well. That was when I decided to boost my English as quick as possible. I guess my determination paid off and I was able to have normal conversions with everyone. After that I opened up more and since then I was able to make many friends. After a while in Baruch I met a bunch of people and I wasn’t so lonely anymore. So I learned from my experience that if I have determination I would succeed in life. I hope everyone will have a great time in college.