The Magician The MagicianShe should just turn around and leave; she doesn't even know why she is here. Yes she does. At least, she thinks she does. But is it really a good enough reason to stay? Is it ever a good enough reason to stay? She could have all of the reason in the world, and yet she would never be able to justify walking into that door.She can recall when she first saw him work his magic. He had stolen her heart then, with some sort of a secret spell. Even years later, she can still remember how he played the audience, pulling its strings and replacing stray thoughts with rapt attention. Even then, he had been able to shine.He had this wa
super + ordinary Day Two and T "What. You can not be serious. You're going to wear a black bullet proof leotard and stiletto boots on a first date?"“What’s wrong with that?”“’What’s wrong with that?’ Hmmm…I wonder. Liz, you have got to realize that it’s not just enough that you are one of the world’s greatest super heroes. I mean, like, the fact that you can lift a car and hurl it at a giant sized beast that is millions of years old and shouldn’t even exist today is a bit intimidating. Add in to it that that’s an every day activity for you in the way that most people walk their dogs and guys are kind of—&
Explanations Why The door is at the end of the hall. She can see it clearly and it isn't even that far of a walk from the elevator, but some lurching feeling in her stomach tells her that she should have taken the stairs that would have left her right beside her door. For some reason, the long, lonely walk leaves her feeling even more desolate than she should.She tries to tell herself that it's all in her head. She's obviously imagining it, because there is no way that all of these little disappointments could all be happening because of some completely unseen slight. But there hadn't been an invitation left at the end of that sentence, and she enters the r
Bad at Poetry I feel I am notVery good at poetryI have no rhythm
Nosferatu - 1922 Nosferatu, eine Symphony des Grauens (1922)"Nosferatu! That name alone can chill the blood..." It is with these words that Friedrich Wilhelm Murnau begins his classic 1922 version of Bram Stoker’s infamous novel, Dracula. From the very beginning, the music seems to evoke feelings of a backwards little hamlet. From the opening, Hutter’s love for his wife Ellen is quite apparent if not expressed in an altogether quirky manner. Ellen on the other hand comes off at first as wholly unappreciative. Greta Schröder and Gustav von Wangenheim’s acting is impeccable, as is that of the entire cast. Alexander Granach innovatively bri
Is Voting for Young People? I had been looking quite forward to reading this book since this year was a presidential election year, however I was sorely disappointed by Martin Wattenberg’s book on young people’s role in the democratic process in this country.To begin with, Wattenberg began his book with a discussion on the readership of newspapers in recent times. While this is a very telling bit of information about young people’s knowledge of contemporary issues, I did not feel that it was the best way to begin the book. If newspapers are not capable of capturing the attention of the younger generations, then I hardly see how reading about something I
Miss Brill's Pride The short story “Miss Brill” by Katherine Mansfield is a witty parable on the dangers of having too much pride. It tells the tale of a school teacher known only as Miss Brill who spends her Sundays in a public park, listening to a band perform while she watches the people around her go about their lives. On this particular Sunday, however; Miss Brill chooses to wear her fur, despite the fact that the weather is “so brilliantly fine,” before returning home prematurely and putting up her beloved fur—perhaps forever. Mansfield uses Miss Brill’s fur to correspond with the character’s superior and judgmental atti
Dork DorkGawd, I am such a dork. Just one word, one look, and I am his. With a smile, I swoon; a touch, I fall. A single sentence from him brightens my day and lightens my heart. I am pathetic, to fall so easily once again for someone who will never give me anything more than the time of day. I am a fool--a hopeless romantic fool. I sound like a half-hashed heroine from a tween's romance novel. I envy him--his easy confidence, his careless smile, his talented movements. He is completely without my awkward tumbles and lackluster performances and half-doubting acts. In that way, I suppose it's true that opposites attract, if only in one way. My ev
Using You to Hold Me Using You to Hold Me---"But maybe it's more like...I'm the one using Takumi...as someone convenient to hold me when I'm lonely."Yazawa, Ai. "Nana." Shojo Beat June 2007: 197.---For just how long had she been a Takumi fan? She couldn't even remember. The answer was, most likely, that she had been a Takumi fan ever since she first heard Trapnest play. Which, of course, brought into question whether or not she actually felt anything towards him or if, as she was beginning to achingly suspect, she was just with him because he was Takumi and this was supposed to be what she wanted. Except that it wasn't. Was it?She thought back to when
sadness it comes like rainsometimes hard and unexpected,falling in torrents around youas you run to your car fromschool or from work or from your houseoff to your next great adventureother times it falls softly andyou know it's there but you'restill able to keep strong and carry onand you knew it was coming so you knewto bring your umbrella and you don't getthat wet as you travelit's like waves and it comes in and outwashing up old shoes and stray fish,forgotten toys and lost jewelrysometimes it rises up and laps heavilyat your pier and you have to run quicklyfor fear that it will over take yousometimes it sits the
Effortless When they first meet, she tells him she is a vampire. But he never really knows because the next day she's a fae and last week and yesterday she was just a normal human girl. Bu today she's wearing her Chuck Taylors and a short formal dress and little martian doodleboppers on her head."I think you're a little lost," he says as he sits next to her, unsure of whether he's talking to the alien antennae or the girl wearing them."I think I am," she says, and he's unsure if it's the doodleboppers or the girl who says it.#Looking back on that day, he realizes there are so many more things he should have said. If he could have done it all aga
Whoa Whoa, little girlYou ever stop to seeWhere you're goingAnd listen to your gut?You really know howTo makeSuch a wicked impression.
Baby Shine Bright Says the old man on the street corner to me one day:"Baby, the stars shine bright," he says."Excuse me?""Don't you get it, baby?The stars don't worry about whether they are doing it wrong or right or inside out or upside down. They don't. Stars don't follow the trends or buy up all the expensive clothes in the world just for the sake of being chic and cool.Stars don't care about what other people say or what they may think. A star is just concerned with being a star. A star is meant to shine, so she does. A star is meant to stay up there, in that sky, and twinkle for all she's worth in the world. You never
A weakness for musicians There's an oboe on the table and an elbow in my ribsI'm lying in my bed and a stranger has me pinnedI try to shift so slightly but he holds me tightI push a little harder in hopes that it mightFree me from his mighty graspBut it doesn't, so--alas!I suppose this my fault could only beIf only I didn't have for musicians such a thing!
With Apologies to the Women In a doctor’s waiting room that is always too cold for the sick ones left waitingTwo old ladies sit behind me,one with long red hair, the otherwith a raspy voiceSays the red-haired one tothe other: “I have seizures”Says the raspy voice: “Oh no”“I don’t want to have a seizurehere. I hope I don’t have one.”“Have you had this problemfor long?” asks the raspy voice“Ever since I had brain surgeryin oh-four”“They thought I wouldn’t make itoff the operating table—but I did”“They thought I wouldn
The Hardest Thing The hardest thing is always the beginningThe hardest part is always the startThe hardest thing is going thorough with itThe hardest place is always in betweenThe hardest part is always endingThe hardest thing is always good byeThe hardest part is always admittingThe hardest thing is always denialThe hardest place is yesterdayThe hardest action is always smilingThe hardest place is always tomorrowThe hardest part is always cryingThe hardest part is seeing youThe hardest part is not talkingThe hardest action is always speaking upThe hardest part is closing my eyesThe hardest part is the openingThe hardest time
Honey, Baby, Sweetheart I "A lady I will be, but a man's accessory, his handbag, no thank you. I will not be someone's ornament. I will not just be someone's honey, baby, sweetheart."--Deb Caletti, Honey, Baby, SweetheartI hate, really hate when random strangers refer to me as "Baby" or "Sweetheart" or "Honey" or whatever cutesy little form of endearment they use. Not only do I find it completely belittling and entirely too informal (I don't even know you! How, then, can I be your "Honey Baby Sweetheart"??), but I find it implies that I am immature and childish. I HAVE NOT BEEN A CHILD SINCE I WAS ABOUT TEN (maybe younger, maybe older). I haven't had a happy-go-lu
Sta.sh
