after writing this i started to have doubts about how to spell catch, and had to google it. i am crazy!

anyway, this is just an attempt at trying something different. i guess it would be more faulkner inspired than anything? but i wouldn’t call it an imitation.

one great thing about literature is that you can interpret it in so many ways. writers tend to have an interpretion in mind, but i think it’s nice to get different perspectives and translations on one piece of writing. so i won’t suggest ways to take this in, but i do have one in mind 🙂 (i just called myself a writer and my stuff literature… shameless!)


i’ll catch you

catch me? catch? CATCH. c a t c h. c a t c h. c a t h. cath. cath me if if i fall. FALL. f a l l. fall. catch me if i fall, if i fell.
who? who will catch me? who? you? you? or you? will you catch me if i fall? or will you let me fall? fall. f a l l.

c’mon i’ll catch you!

i fear. fear. what do i fear? fear. f e a r. death.
who will catch me? i am heavy. this is a two flight building. im heavy. heavy. and i fall. fall. f a l l. like a fat goose. goose.
cath? catch? i fear. i simply fear.
see? see? a bird knows how to fly. she does not know how to fall. no one catches a bird. you shoot them to bring them down.
should i dare to fall? would i let myself fall? can i fall? fall. dare.
i am a fat goose. who will catch me if i fall?
fall. will you? you? or you?
who will catch me if i fall?
falling. falling. falling.
the sky ia bright and blue like a gemstone.
He will catch me if i fall.



have been chewing on this one for a week or so actually, but only started writing today, after i rolled around in my bed for a good two hours =\ i thought of this scene when i was listening to enrique iglesias (wow i didn’t spell his name wrong! woot woot! bonus pts for me :D). can you guess which song?

also, i have been super jealous lately, of all those great writers (i.e. chekhov, joyce, faulkner – in that order). man oh man, it’s amazing how some people are just so naturally good at writing! i am so amazed, and admire them even more now. shakespeare no more! i think i have moved on from high school literature (and obsession over shksp.) FINALLY. time for some russian goodness (and irish and southern)!


Her eyes had that inquisitive look again. They were dark and silent, quietly purring to me, blowing sweet breaths into my ears, wondering if I had been paying attention all along.

Continue reading “Yes”


Timmy and the Magical Watermelon

did this during midterm week, so please forgive the choppy language and unimaginative use of words =\ ah, first attempt at a kid’s story! oh well 🙂


One warm sunny day Timmy snuck out of the house a little past noon when Mom was taking a nap. He was walking by the beach, thinking about how sad it would be now that summer is ending and the watermelon season is over, when he noticed something far away. He tip-toed over for a closer look and saw a big purple ball with long purple arms that had suction cups on the bottom. Timmy decided that this was a monster.

“Oh! Hello! You startled me!” The monster yawned.

This startled Timmy. He didn’t know monsters could talk. In his story books they always roared or growled as loud as they wanted and nobody ever knew what they meant.

“You look surprised,” the monster observed, “have you never seen a talking octopus before?”

“No,” Timmy mustered a single reply. Oh, he thought, this is an octopus. I guess he’s not a monster after all.

Continue reading “Timmy and the Magical Watermelon”

Timmy and the Magical Watermelon


actually i don’t know if i like the name of this piece…. uh just like the other one, i’m not sure this is the end or merely the beginning of a longer composition =\

any suggestions for titles?

Love, one word at a time.

One whisper, one breath. Inhale, exhale.

“Life is beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked. She always liked to ask these questions. It’s just like her to say these things and not mean it.

She sat in my chair; she always liked to sit in my chair. She would say it’s because my chair is big and comfortable, and just at the right height for her legs to hang over one armrest, and her neck to fall on the other.

Continue reading “Pieces”