"OH SHOOT!" I yelled at five in the morning, jumping off of the hotel couch bed and running into the bathroom.

"What's going on!?" Mom asked, jolting upright in bed.

"The heck, dude…" Dad said.

"I'm gon' be late!"

I slammed the bathroom door, waking up my sisters, and hopped into the shower. I was done in two minutes: something I had not done in ages. When I got out of the shower I realized that I did not grab any clothes on my way in. "You gotta be kidding me!" I said, wrapping the tiny towel around my waist. It didn't even go halfway down my thighs.

"Nothing else I can do," I said with a sigh, then I rushed into the part of the hotel room where the couch was at. I threw open my bag, grabbed my outfit for the day, ran back to the bathroom, and the door got slammed in my face. My sister had gone inside. "Hey--um--I kinda need in there."

"Well, I kinda need in here too. You can wait. You had your turn."

"No, you see, it was still my turn. I'm standing put here in just a--"

"DUDE! WE'RE TRYNA SLEEP OVER HERE!"

My mother's outburst confused me considering they wake up between three and four every morning. But I guess we are on vacation… kinda. Weekend away for a race.

My sister finally got out of the bathroom and I got dressed. "Be back soon!" I called, grabbing the keys.

"Where do ya think you're goin'?" Ma asked. "You don't even have your license yet!"

"Wanna come with then?"

"You're not goin' anywhere."

"I gotta announce Pen to the Paper 7 though!"

"Oh. Later."

"Love ya," I said closing the door and running down the hall towards the elevator.

After leaving the hotel, I jumped into the car and sped away, driving haphazardly. "Turn left," the GPS said. "You idiot. I said turn left. Why did you turn left? You were supposed drive straight."

"It ain't my fault you make things unnecessarily complicated. Had you not said anything, I would have gone that way!"

After twenty more of these situations, I finally made it to my location: the beach. I grabbed a camera from the back, set up the tripod, and put the camera on top. The sun was rising beautifully behind me. I turned the camera on, and Maya called.

"Are you almost ready?" she asked.

"I'm about to broadcast. Let me know if my signal is coming through."

"Yep, it's working. Move to the left. The other left. Alright. Take two steps back. Now put the earpiece in and put your phone down: you're going live in 10… 9… 8… 7… Why haven't you put the earpiece in yet? 6…"

"I'll be back, I think it's in the car."

"5…"

I searched the car: nothing.

"You were supposed to be live two minutes ago," she said when I finally got back.

"I left it at the hotel."

"Perfect. I guess you'll be using your phone. Going live now."

"Wait I'm not read--Hello everyone! Can't believe another month has passed… and you know what that means! Welcome to Pen to the Paper 7!!!"

A hidden river,

Flows through the grove of willows,

Old branches draping down,

Under the crumbling stone bridge,

That long ago,

Saw many carriages safely over the rushing waters,

But now,

Forgotten,

Too unsturdy for cars,

To low for boats,

A path that is no longer used,

A river that gives no more,

Used to be a grand old time,

Used to be the life of the day,

But blondes in pink dresses,

No longer come,

Boys with fishing poles and caps ,

No longer come,

Mothers with picnic baskets and crying babies

No longer come,

Fathers with crates of beer and friends,

No longer come,

The green beside the river,

Forgotten,

Once more.

I always thought

I was made of

star dust

until the devil

called me home

his Satan face

a reflection

of all the

red flags I

had

raised

and a reminder

that came too late

Opening the window blinds to my living room,

I see a flock of sparrows scatter in fright.

Only a single sparrow remains on the ground,

Unphased by all his friend’s plight.

Giving me one look. Then continues to eat in solitude.

Thinking to himself, “More for me.”

I cannot tell whether that sparrow is a genius or a moron.

Often that thin line is impossible to see.

I just got an ad for rollerblades on Youtube, and I’m horrified. It must be because something heard me talk about them in my online classes half an hour ago. Or maybe it’s because I was surfing the web for a new pair last week, and the Internet hasn’t forgotten. I feel uneasy. Someone's just trying to sell me rollerblades. But why is it so offputting? It's not meant to be. The pretty colours and low prices are supposed to lure me in. This is just a few lines of code that sniff out keywords and generates a little ad. I don't like. I defy it in the only way I can, by scrolling away.

PS: I'm not a native English speaker - feel free to point out my mistakes! Thanks :)

Ok let me start. this is the aboslute worst. Blehhhh. Ugh. I try so hard to do what you say. You say no plane. i plan. I plan. I plan. That's what I do. I can't write without a plan. I think before I write. I have the whole thing written out in my head before I start. so I try not to. My story is yeah. Yep that is my story. I wanted to do something creative but guess what, I can't think about it before I do it. right? that is what you meant, right? Maybe not but I hope this is what you wanted. I have not stopped to think. Maybe for a second but yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Yep it sucks. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. YEAH.

Butterscotch and fine things

Doesn’t know what they mean anymore

Her grandmother’s house reeks of death and morphine

Hospice house, her uncle declared before he shot himself dead

Sick in the head, mad in their beds, the neighborhood children cry

And sometimes she thinks they’re right

Right about her, right about where the stains in the bed of the pickup truck came from

The best nights are found in the worst of times

So she’s off laughing in the subway and crying in Central Park

And partying alone in the Hamptons in a full loft that costs more than her tuition

She leaves the home that doesn't love her, doesn't acknowledge her

For the city that could care less whether she lives or dies

The city that doesn't care how long she's staying because she's just another wandering soul

She asks Zeus to strike her down because the only god she believes in is unfair and malicious

Isn’t that fitting? She’s bitter like sour hard candy

Incomplete like peanut butter sandwiches with the crusts cut off

Better things come after suffering is had, her father tells her

While he groans over budgets and turns a blind eye to the injustice around them

There isn't enough money in the world to cure its problems, Jolene, he says

But sometimes she thinks money is the problem

And even if he had money, he wouldn't spend it on anything but whiskey

She’s marching in June and sucking down superiority like cotton candy come July

Her ego needs a boost every once in a while

Red duct tape lining her soles, bleeding sacrificial imprints on every sidewalk crack

She cherishes the stains because at least something will remain when she is gone

Other than a half finished Magnum Opus and a bottle of perfume that smells like home

She still drops daisies at the cathedral, pretends at least someone watches over her

Still visits her mother’s grave every other month, lays down lilies in a clustered heap

Swipes a thin film of battle armor on her cheeks in the morning

Remembers how death is a fickle thing

How it comes for everyone and she doesn’t want to be next

to the you

five years from now

i will find out if

this body of mine was too small for my ambitions

i send a piece of me into the sky

hoping it will dye it

(breathtakingly)

as other wishes have

endless sunsets before

may i visit places i've never seen before

speak languages not of my native tongue

may i rest when i need it

and have fun in the chaos

to be healthy and happy and comfortable

with endless opportunities before me

may i meet people who will make me fall in love with life

may i be friends with the girl in the reflection

may i make mistakes and learn from them in grace

five years from now;

oh

to be her.

One small step for man,

One large leap towards ruin,

As we can never stop reaching

For the stars that are not ours.

We aim for civilizations

And planets that are not our own.

Looking for farther and farther solutions

To the problems we face,

To the problems we made.

We harness electricity,

We discover oil,

We destroy our planet

Just to satisfy

Those what-ifs,

Those whispers at the back of our mind.

Just to appease

The curiosity that destroys

What we are working so hard to save.