Final Draft

What does true love mean? Lately, it’s been the question replaying in my head. I know I am in love or was, I am not sure anymore. Up until few days ago, I believed that David was “the one” and I was his. The way he would encourage me to talk to my distant sister, nobody would argue that he is not a keeper. Heck, I was even expecting him to pop the question in the near future. But by then I felt that my dream of marrying him was at the verge of vanishing. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t even breath without thinking about him. Whenever I tried to focus on eating my cereal, I somehow became lost in my teenage dream. I mean is it fair to automatically accuse him of such a big crime with just one text? Seeing that one text from Padma on David’s phone was more torturing than actually being tortured. My curiosity was slowing eating me up like parasite.

“If you think he is cheating then, he is cheating,” my roommate, Jenna, stated.

“But he is not the cheating type, you know, he is not like that and all of our friends know that. Ugh it’s just so confusing,” I mumbled.

“I know, it’s hard, but just leave him, besides, what does that rat eating asshole think he is. All men are cheating bastards, period.” Jenna would know, as she is the one with lists of exes.

“I just want to talk to him. My heart tells me that there is something I am misunderstanding. But at the same time, I want to rip that girl’s head off, I want to talk to her first though,” I said feeling mixed emotion.

After few hours of asking around, I finally got a number.

“Hello, is this Padma?” I hesitated.

“Yeah, who is this?” Padma replied.

“You’re David’s girlfriend right?” I questioned in a demanding manner.

“What?! No, I have a boyfriend and David and I are just friends, besides David has a girlfriend named Ruby,” Padma exclaimed.

“Well that’s not what your text says,” I exclaimed now in an angry tone.

“Oh… that text...” She replied in a sudden realization. After a brief pause she continued, “Well, before you go on any further pointing fingers, did you see my following texts about how it was sent to him by accident and did you see how many times I apologized?” Padma wasn’t about to take any blame.

I, in fact, didn’t see the following texts; I had only seen the first one. In shame, I quickly hung up the phone. I knew I was right about David; he wouldn’t do such a thing. All of a sudden, I remembered that I left a drunken voicemail on David’s phone last night. I jumped up in a hurry and put on whatever was closest to me and busted out of the door in lightening speed. All I could care to think about was how nasty that voicemail was. I wish I could take back all of it, especially the part where I hoped for him to get hit by a car. As I got close to his apartment, there he was, all dressed up for something very important, it seemed. Upon spotting me, his first instinct was to run to me. It was as if Hilary Duff was narrating the ending of my perfect Cinderella story. With one blink, he was flying in the air and within the next, he was plummeted to the street. As he lost conscience, a beautiful sparkling ruby ring rolled out of his valiant hand.

Reflection Paper

My philosophy on writing is that writers can’t be generalized; every writer is different in what they write and how they write. They have different thought process, different ways of jotting down their big idea, different critique, and different audience. There are writers whom can finish their first draft within few hours at some café. Meanwhile there are writers whom can take days or even months to piece together their first draft. Some even go to extreme measurements to write their stories as mentioned in Kent Haruf’s,  “To See Your Story Clearly, Start by Pulling the Wool Over Your Own Eyes.” Some writers are just good at writing romance novel like Nicholas Sparks and some writers are just good at breaking the rules of writing, for example, Tim O’Brien. O’Brien in his short story, “Things They Carried,” breaks the rule of writing by just basically listing what soldiers carried in his story. Personally, I work better under pressure and I write better when my story is about teenage dreams as suppose to something with actions.

I agree with Walter Mosley’s essay, “For Authors, Fragile ideas Need Loving Every Day.” Like Mosley I believe everybody has a story to tell but they just don’t know how to start writing. Mosley’s solution to getting our story out is by writing everyday. He writes, “It doesn’t matter what time of day you work, but you have to work everyday because creation, like life, is always slipping away form you” (Pg. 163). It’s inevitable that we as human beings are going to forget out our thoughts from the past.  But the only way to prevent that is by doing what Mosley suggests, writing in your journal everyday. By doing so everyday, we are going back to those thoughts, dreams, or events from the past everyday. Everyday we are reviving our memories and save it from vanishing forever. Additionally, if we need ideas for stories, we can always look back in our journals as a source of ideas with details. I think the concept of writing in a journal everyday is very beneficial and awesome because it can serve as a source of ideas while saving our memories outside of our brains.

I agree with Alice Hoffman’s Sustained by Fiction While Facing Life’s Facts,” because I also believe that writing is a way of escaping our crazy everyday life. She was a writer before she was diagnosed with cancer and she continued to write because what she was looking for, “…during ten months of chemotherapy and radiation was a way to make sense of sorrow and loss” (Pg. 98). It’s understandable why people would want to write for multiple reasons. Andy from the short story, “Big Me,” created his own imaginary world because he wanted to escape the tightly knitted suburban life. I like the idea of writing to escape the real world because my writing is where I can pour out my heart. In my imaginary world I have the power to do whatever I please. I can be whatever I want, change anything I want, be anywhere I want, eat whatever I want, possess any talent I want, there is no limit to I can do.

I agree with two of Hilma Wolitzer’s, “Embarking Together on Solidarity Journeys,” because I also believe that you are not alone when writing a story and that constructive criticism is the best part of writing. I started believing that writing is a solidarity work when she wrote, “The writer’s head is mobbed with characters, images and language…” (Pg. 263). It’s true, if you think about it, you have these characters in you head acting their role, which contributes to how your story is structured. We have our conscience and the conscience of the characters guiding us, telling us what doesn’t make sense and how we should fix our mistakes. Similarly with constructive criticisms, we get feedback on how we should better our stories. The reason why constructive criticism is important to her is because, “Everyone must be aware of a fellow human being behind the work being discussed, and criticism has to be useful, not just derogatory or laudatory.” We can’t be offended when someone doesn’t like our story, because we have to be open-minded when writing otherwise we might as well just end up being something regular, like doctors and lawyers. I believe being dogmatic doesn’t get us far in life especially in writing, because if we are too suborn to accept anybody’s opinion than our writing piece is not good enough to be published or deserve A.

However, I strongly disagree with her last paragraph in which she states that, “…talent is a prerequisite for the future professional,” (Pg. 268). I don’t think talent is necessary for future writers anymore because in the twenty-first century, anyone can make the New York’s best selling author’s list. Apparently as all the Disney channel show’s protagonists can sing, similarly anyone can sell books. Lately, celebrities have been publishing their memoirs and it’s not by chance that they get a book deal because they have so much talent to show the world, but because they are famous. Therefore, I conclude that talent is not a prerequisite for future writers because the world we live in today is very different from the world it used to be fifty years ago.

My goal for next semester is to find my writing position. I want to see how and where I can work to my best ability. I want to experiment writing in different places such as B2, under my staircase, in my backyard, in the train, etc. I think once I find my writing my position, I can work much more efficient because usually for me piecing together my first draft has always been a big traffic jammer. But if I find my writing position, I know I can work much faster and that would allow me to better edit my work and get my work done in shorter amount of time than before.

3rd Draft

Misfortune

What does true love mean? Lately, it’s been the question replaying in my head. I know I am in love or was, I am not sure anymore. Up until few days ago, I believed that David was “the one” and I was his. The way he would encourage me to talk to my distant sister, nobody would argue that he is not a keeper. Heck, I was even expecting him to pop the question in the near future. But by then I felt that my dream of marrying him was at the verge of vanishing. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t even breath without thinking about him. Whenever I tried to focus on eating my cereal, I somehow became lost in my teenage dream. I mean is it fair to automatically accuse him of such a big crime with just one text? Seeing that one text from Padma on David’s phone was more torturing than actually being tortured. My curiosity was slowing eating me up like parasite.

“If you think he is cheating then, he is cheating,” my roommate, Jenna, stated.

“But he is not the cheating type, you know, he is not like that and all of our friends know that. Ugh it’s just so confusing,” I mumbled.

“I know, it’s hard, but just leave him, besides, what does that rat eating asshole think he is. All men are cheating bastards, period.” Jenna would know, as she is the one with lists of exes.

“I just want to talk to him. My heart tells me that there is something I am misunderstanding. But at the same time, I want to rip that girl’s head off, I want to talk to her first though,” I said feeling mixed emotion.

After few hours of asking around, I finally got a number.

“Hello, is this Padma?” I hesitated.

“Yeah, who is this?” Padma replied.

“You’re David’s girlfriend right?” I questioned in a demanding manner.

“What?! No, I have a boyfriend and David and I are just friends, besides David has a girlfriend named Ruby,” Padma exclaimed.

“Well that’s not what your text says,” I exclaimed now in an angry tone.

“Oh… that text...” She replied in a sudden realization. After a brief pause she continued, “Well, before you go on any further pointing fingers, did you see my following texts about how it was sent to him by accident and did you see how many times I apologized?” Padma wasn’t about to take any blame.

I, in fact, didn’t see the following texts; I had only seen the first one. In shame, I quickly hung up the phone. I knew I was right about David; he wouldn’t do such a thing. All of a sudden, I remembered that I left a drunken voicemail on David’s phone last night. I jumped up in a hurry and put on whatever was closest to me and busted out of the door in lightening speed. All I could care to think about was how nasty that voicemail was. I wish I could take back all of it, especially the part where I hoped for him to get hit by a car. As I got close to his apartment, there he was, all dressed up for something very important, it seemed. Upon spotting me, his first instinct was to run to me. It was as if Hilary Duff was narrating the ending of my perfect Cinderella story. With one blink, he was flying in the air and within the next, he was plummeted to the street. As he lost conscience, a beautiful sparkling ruby ring rolled out of his valiant hand....

Reflection           

    This workshop is by far my favorite because I got very meaningful response and suggestions. I really like the idea of getting constructive criticism, in fact I think it's a very useful tool in writing. From this workshop, I realized that my first paragraph is not the problem, it was actually my ending. I got a lot of response suggesting me to make the end a little more clear but at the same time, not making it too obvious. I was also able to fix my grammar mistakes and I realized that my story is written in more than one tense. Overall, this workshop really helped me to see things that I couldn't see in my story before.

 

Journal #11: Draft 2

What does true love mean? Lately, it’s been the question replaying in my head. I know I am in love or was, I am not sure anymore. Up until few days ago, I believed that David was “the one” and I was his. Heck, I was even expecting him to pop the question in the near future. But now my dream of marrying him is now at the verge of vanishing. I blow my newly trimmed bangs from yellow face as I roll out of my bed to find something to eat. I mean is it fair to automatically accuse him of such a big crime with just one text? Seeing that one text form Padma on David’s phone is more torturing than actually being tortured. My curiosity is slowing eating me up like parasites.

“If you think he is cheating then, he is cheating,” my roommate, Jenna, stated.

“But he is not the cheating type, you know, he is not like that and all of our friends know that. Ugh it’s just so confusing,” I mumbled.

“I know it’s hard, but just leave him, besides, what does that rat eating asshole think he is. All men are cheating bastards, period.” Jenna would know, as she is the one with lists of exes.

“I just want to talk to him. My heart tells me that there is something I am misunderstanding. But at the same time, I want to rip that girl’s head off, I want to talk to her first though,” I said in mixed emotion.

After few hours of asking around, I finally got a number.

“Hello, is this Padma?” I hesitated.

“Yeah, who is this?” Padma replied.

“You’re David’s girlfriend right?” I questioned in a demanding manner.

“What?! No, I have a boyfriend and David and I are just friends, besides David has a girlfriend named Ruby,” Padma exclaimed.

“Well that’s not what your text says,” I claimed now in an angry tone.

“Oh… that text.... Well, before you go on any further pointing fingers, did you see my following texts about how it was sent to him by accident and did you see how many times I apologized?” Padma wasn’t about to take any blame.

I, in fact, didn’t see the following text, I had seen the text only seen the first text. In shame, I quickly hang up the phone. I knew I was right about David; he wouldn’t do such a thing. All the sudden, in the midst of imagining seeing David, she remembered leaving a drunken voicemail last night. I jumped up in hurry and put on whatever was the closest to me and busted out of the door in lightening speed. While running to David’s house, I got a call from Alex, her perverted coworker, from the hospital.

“What Alex? I don’t have time for your dirty jokes right now, so whatever it is make is fast,” I said in annoyance.

“Come to the hospital now,” Alex said in a traumatic tone.

“Can’t you get some of the interns to do whatever it is?” I asked, while running out of breath.

There was a long silence and then a big exhale, and finally he said in a nervous tone, “I am serious, I can’t tell you over the phone, just get here right now….”

I could feel it; I could feel that something is wrong, I couldn’t figure out what though. At last it struck to me, Alex was the one who introduced me to David.

Reflection: Based on the feedback in workshop, i now plan to make my story more clear. I am thinking about changing my 1st paragraph to include more details about the main character. I want to find a better way to incorporate details about the main character without compromising the plot of the story. I don't think my first paragraph is eye catching enough to interest the readers, therefore when editing my story, i want to focus mainly on my first paragraph. Additionally, i want to work on my last sentence or the revealing part at the end. I originally thought the last part was a subtext but one of the feedback said that the last part was too confusing, so i want to edit it so that it is not too confusing and still be a subtext.

Journal #10: Character Created from Personal Place

“Why did you do it, huh?” Charles asked in a psychotic tone as he walked back and forth in front of Bundy, who was strapped to a chair.

The tired and beaten up Bundy, replied in confusion, “What the hell are you talkin’ about man….”

WHA-CHAA!! Charles added blush to Bundy’s already bruised face, although you can’t really see the redness. However, Charles’s face was becoming visibly red as his brain flashes back to that night when he couldn’t recognize his little girl’s face due to the cuts and bruises from falling down the mountain. He could see the image of his dead 6 years old as if it was a picture in retina display.

“Remember the night of March 18, 2002? Remember how you were too fucking drunk to drive?” Charles slapped Bundy on the head and resumed to shouting, “You were a cop for god sake! You should’ve known better! The world was better off when you Negroes were slaves! You’re kind is nothing but a parasite to this great nation, you-”

Before Charles can insult any further, Bundy interrupted, “Look, man I’m sorry for what happened. I’m truly sorry, I know how much I hurt your family.” Bundy weeps, “I wish I can go back in time and change what I did. Trust me man, I am mean it, I am truly sorry….”

In the blink of an eye, he pulls out his Taurus .38, pointing sharply in between Bundy’s eyes.

“Because of you my wife, my high school sweetheart, was in coma for 6 years. My daughter was unrecognizable!!!! If you think your apology is going to save you, then you are sorely mistaken. This is for my wife and daughter….” POWW!

Journal #9: 2 Pg. Sudden Fiction

What does true love mean? Lately, it’s been the question replaying in Serena’s head. She knows she is in love or was or not sure anymore. You see, the reason Serena is questioning herself is that; she recently found a mysterious text on David’s phone, from a girl. Up until few days ago, she believed that he was “the one” and she was his. Heck, she was even expecting him to pop the question in the near future. But now her dream of marrying is now at the verge of vanishing. She blows her newly trimmed bangs from her face as she rolls out of her bed to get ready for work. I mean is it fair to automatically accuse him of such a big crime with just one text? She thought.

“If you think he is cheating then, he is cheating,” her roommate, Jenna, claimed.

“But he is not the cheating type, you know, he is not like and all of our friends know that. Ugh it’s just so confusing,” Serena mumbled.

“I know it’s hard but just leave him, besides, what does that rat eating asshole think he is. All men are cheating bastards, period.” Jenna would know, as she is the one with list of exes.

“I just want to talk to him. My heart tells me that there is something I am misunderstanding. But at the same time, I want to rip that girl’s head off, I want to talk to her first though,” Serena said in mixed emotion.

After few hours of asking around, Serena finally got a number.

“Hello, is this Padma?” Serena hesitated.

“Yeah, who is this?” Padma replied.

“You’re David’s girlfriend right?” Serena questioned in a demanding manner.

“What?! No, I have a boyfriend and David and I are just friends,” Padma exclaimed.

“Well that’s not what your text says,” Serena claimed now in an angry tone.

“Oh… that text.... Well, before you go on any further pointing fingers, did you see my following texts about how it was sent to him by an accident and did you see how many times I apologized?” Padma wasn’t about to take any accusation.

Serena in fact, didn’t see the following text, she had seen the text only seen the first text. In shame, she quickly hangs up the phone. She knew she was right about David; he wouldn’t do such a thing. All the sudden, in the midst of imagining seeing David, she remembered leaving a drunken voicemail last night. She jumped up in hurry and put on whatever was the closest to her and busted out of the door in lightening speed. While running to David’s house, she got a call from Alex, her perverted coworker, from the hospital.

“What Alex? I don’t have time for your dirty jokes right now, so whatever it is make is fast,” Serena said in annoyance.

“Come to the hospital now,” Alex said in a traumatic tone.

“Can’t you get some of the interns to do whatever it is?” Serena asked.

There was a long silence and then a big exhale, and finally he said in a nervous tone, “I am serious, I can’t tell you over the phone, just get here right now….”

Serena could feel it, she could feel that something is wrong, she couldn’t figure out what though. At last it struck to her, Alex was the one who introduced her to David. 

Reflection

            During workshop, I received feedback that I should work on adding more credibility points. I have personally decided to work on taking away descriptions and substituting it with analysis because I realize that I am telling my story, not showing. I feel like this first draft doesn’t include majority of the writing styles we’ve been learning for the past few months. I have some writing elements such as thoughts and dialogues, but I want to enrich my story with metaphors, sensory details, and bunch of credibility points to the point where this piece becomes somewhat similar to my memoir into fiction piece.

Journal #8: Subtext Scene

Marium wipes her hands on her face when she was done praying. She rolls up her mat, excuses herself for few seconds to put it away.

“I don’t know, I mean it’s a lot of risk,” Marium said as she fixed her hijab.

John brushes his ginger hair in a frustrated motion.

“This is our life we are talking about, we can’t let him make decisions for us, we are the ones who are going to have to live the consequences of his decision for the rest of our lives, NOT him,” John raised his voice.

As tears started welling up in her Kohl lined eyes, she replied, “but you know how he is; he is never going to accept your proposal.”

Upon seeing the tears starting to flood, John quickly, without any hesitation, threw his arms around her.

“I don’t know how this is going to work. Why can’t I have the one thing I want, more than anything else in this world? What did I do to be put in this situation? Why me?” she cried.

John in his comfort voice assured her, “It’s not your fault… life can be so damn unpredictable sometimes, but we just have to learn to face it.”

Her eye color now matched his hair. Looking up at John, she said in terror, “I am so scared to go against him.”

Still locked in their hug, John closes his eyes, and sighs, “Yeah… I know… you don’t want to hurt his feelings. I mean after all, he is your father.”

She started doubting herself again, “I wish there was some sort of a compromise, I don’t want him to be disappointed in me, I am what I am today all because of him. I wish I had the guts to say no him. I just don’t---”

“Look, it’s not like you are lying to him, the best way to handle this situation is to be honest with him and if he refuses, then we move on to our plan B,” John interrupted.

“I know it’s not lying but it is or would be an act of betrayal,” she responded.

John harshly explains, “If we try and fail, at least we can say that we tried, I mean by miracle, what if he agrees? And as for betraying him, I think it’s safe to say that we somewhat warned him.”

Marium wipes off her tear.

John sighs, “would you rather live the rest of your life, wondering what would have happened? Or would you rather live a free life….”

After a moment of silence, John slowly said in a low tone, "...with... me?”

Journal #7: Stalker Project

Character Profile Worksheet

Basic Statistics

Name: John Thomson

Age: 27

Nationality: American born Scottish

Socioeconomic Level as a child: Middle class

Socioeconomic Level as an adult: Upper middle class

Hometown: Madison, Wisconsin

Current Residence: Brooklyn, NY

Occupation: Editor-in-chief at the Daily News

Income: $65,000

Talents/Skills: Can play the flute

Salary: $65,000

Birth order: 1 older sister and 1 younger sister

Siblings (describe relationship): He talks with his sisters one in a while, just to keep each others up to date about their daily life.

Spouse (describe relationship): None

Children (describe relationship): None

Grandparents (describe relationship): Only has a grandma who he really loves and misses. They have a very special relationship because he feels like his grandma is the only one who understands him and she has been giving him support since he was very little.

Grandchildren (describe relationship): None

Significant Others (describe relationship): Never had a girlfriend

Relationship skills: Popular amongst his friends

Physical Characteristics:

Height: 4 feet

Weight: 105 Lb.

Race: Scottish

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Dark/dirty red

Glasses or contact lenses?: None

Skin color: Light pink

Shape of Face: Oval shape face and his head is bigger than his body

Distinguishing features: Has facial hair

How does he/she dress?: Wears knit hat, red flannel shirt, skinny jeans (folded at the ankle) and desert shoe.

Mannerisms: Very patient, curses a lot, and checks his phone often

Habits (smoking, drinking etc.): Both

Health: Achondroplasia

Hobbies: Watching the latest action movie, reading the news, playing the flute

Favorite Sayings: “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

Speech patterns: Deep voice

Disabilities: Dwarfism

Style (Elegant, shabby etc.): American Eagle Outfitters model style

Greatest flaw: Height and smoking habit

Best quality: Kind, caring, and understanding

Intellectual/Mental/Personality Attributes and Attitudes

Educational Background: Graduated with masters in Journalism from Middlebury College

Intelligence Level: Up to date on current events

Any Mental Illnesses?: None

Learning Experiences: He always found physics to be the hardest subject and loved English

Character's short-term goals in life: He wants a volunteer to do a piece on Sam Childers because he recently watched the Machine Gun Preacher

Character's long-term goals in life: Find an accepting woman to marry

How does Character see himself/herself?: He use to be embarrassed for being short, but now he is over it, in fact he embraces it

How does Character believe he/she is perceived by others?: He is looked down upon a lot as he is not able to do a lot of the manly activities such as enlisting or reaching for something on top of the cabinet when girls can’t reach it

How self-confident is the character?: He deeply believes that one doesn’t need to be tall enough to reach their dream because what ultimately matters is their brain and character

Does the character seem ruled by emotion or logic or some combination thereof?: He is ruled by logic and emotion

What would most embarrass this character?: When girls think of him as a little kid

Emotional Characteristics

Strengths/Weaknesses: His biggest strength is his brain and his ability to let his brain take control of his feelings. His weakness is that he worries too much about his future, whether he will find his Cinderella

Introvert or Extrovert?: Extrovert

How does the character deal with anger?: Smoking

With sadness?: Watches sad movies and cries during the sad parts

With conflict?: He says whatever is in his mind

With change?: Tries to cope with it

With loss?: Isolates himself and plays old memories in his head

What does the character want out of life?: Marry someone as kind and caring as his grandmother

What would the character like to change in his/her life?: A stop to social discrimination against anything

What motivates this character?: Peter Dinklage, because Peter Dinklage reminds him that nothing can stop him from getting what he wants

What frightens this character?: Spending the rest of his life alone

What makes this character happy?: Meeting someone who doesn’t judge and someone who understands him

Is the character judgmental of others?: Some of times, if he feels like the people are judging him

Is the character generous or stingy?: Generous

Is the character generally polite or rude?: Polite but can be rude sometimes

Spiritual Characteristics

Does the character believe in God?: No

What are the character's spiritual beliefs?: Apatheism

Is religion or spirituality a part of this character's life?: He was born into Roman Catholic family and was baptized but eventually stopped believing in god because lots of his prayers as a child were never fulfilled

If so, what role does it play?: None

What does this character want?? Need? Wish? Hope?

His life is perfect, loving family and friends and his dream job but he just wants one thing. He wants being short or dwarf to be nothing or normal. He hates it when people stare at him from the corner of their eyes in public. He wishes people to stop pitying him at first because there is nothing to pity for being short. He hopes for the kids with dwarfism to stop feeling self-conscious about their height and learn to accept themselves as soon as possible.

            That’s it; this bitch has been starring for too long, it’s time to do the usual, stare right back at them in their eyes. Wow, this girl really didn’t learn any manners from her parent. I took off my headphones, and stared at her, “Yes, I am 4 feet tall, born with Achondroplasia, but you know what? My life is way fucking better than your ramen noodle every night life because this midget right here is the editor-in-chief of a newspaper that you can’t afford, so no thank you for your pity.” I plugged my earphones back in, pulled my knit hat from the back, wiped my Friscco by Steve Madden against the back of my jean, and dusted new flannel with swag, as I existed the train. Now that has ought to teach her some manner.

Journal #6

6a- Walkers are the easiest to kill.

6b- Refugee: Found My Purpose, Free Tibet

6c- Jenna could see it from then, her future with Aaron and the little versions of them running around screaming, though they are not a couple, the kiss that they shared, guaranteed her that he is her Prince Charming. There was something about that kiss that made her believe that he felt the same way about her too, but what can they do, time and place can be a bitch too. Her flight back to Basel leaves first thing in the morning the next day, not knowing when they’ll ever see each other again, just going back to that night was enough for her to wait for him. For two years, she saved whatever she could, battled against her girlfriends’ criticism, and finally, she was able to save enough to buy a one-way air ticket to Wisconsin. As she got into the taxi, her hands became colder than the winter snow, heartbeat faster than the train, face warm as freshly delivered cow milk. At first she stopped by the town church, where they kissed, to get blessing for what she was about to do, as she pushed the heavy doors open, behold stood Aaron in black suit, hand in hand with a girl in white dress.

Journal #5: In Medias Res

Wolfgang wiped off the sweat from his forehead again, while Jake was still screaming on top of his lungs from the excitement of riding the Anaconda. Wolfgang couldn’t shake off the fear of the consequences for what he was about to do. He had been burying his feelings for two years now but he finally realized that once he committed the crime of loving someone, there couldn’t be anything worse than that. So he practiced his confession for about a month now and decided today is the day. But now the caterpillars in his stomach is starting to bloom out of its shells and whenever he opened his mouth, his heart would just drop upon seeing Jake’s face, so his mouth closes again. Unsure about Jake’s feelings for him, Wolfgang finally managed to puke up those three words, the three words that have the power to change his image. Right that moment, the Anaconda speeded up the hill and all the sudden there, on the seat laid a bracelet and a condom from Jake’s pocket.

Journal #4: Paragraph on Chris

"Late on your second day, impressive Chris..." Ryan joked. Chris rubbed his zombie eyes, blinked a couple of times, and then rubbed his whole face. “Give me a break, I just started,” Chris replied in annoyance. “Yeah, like fifth time starting a new job in two months,” Ryan teased. Actually Chris hated his new job because he thinks that his soft hands don’t belong in a meat-packaging factory. He hates the smell of raw meat because it reminds him of the luxurious life he used to have, where he has never seen a piece of raw meat. Every morning, he struggles to drag himself out of the bed unless it’s Saturday, because Saturdays are his shopping day. Even with a skinny wallet, it seems that nothing can break this habit that he still carries from his old life. Along with keeping an old habit, he did develop a new one, saving forty percent of his income. After being brutally insulted by his siblings about his new poor life in front of other upper eastside rich and snobby people, he has been planning on revenge. He plans on saving enough to start a chain restaurant and then slapping the arrogance out of them with his success.   

Journal #3: Memoir into Fiction

            I am very picky when it comes to apples because I only like the ones with lot water. I always walked by the Snow White apples because I don’t find them to be watery or crispy at all. I also ignore the green apples because they are not watery or crispy enough for me either. I always look for the most proportionate and chubby yellow reddish colored apples. While I was picking out the most full-blown yellow reddish apple, I remember thinking about watching an interview on Liam Hemsworth’s love for apple and how he also likes the watery ones only. According to my friend, Crystal, he is suppose to be in town to promote his new movie, Expendables 2. I remember when Crystal and I first started fancying Liam. Back in middle school, we used buy those girly magazines just so we can take out his pictures and collect it for our scrapbook that was dedicated only to Liam. We would stare at one picture and admire and analyze the Australian beauty. We would take turns saying what we like from that particular picture and then move on to the next picture. To us, he was a one hit wonder with his charming eyes that can give girls like us a Tachycardia with a bat of an eye. Jawline so fine and smooth that even a figure skaters would trip and bust their bumps. Hair so silky, in fact, silky enough to be Sunsilk’s new brand ambassador. Nose so proportioned that his picture is in the look book of a Beverly Hills’s plastic surgeon’s lobby.

 I remember daydreaming about running into him at Joe’s stand and discussing our opinion on apples. I wanted to see him before he leaves, I didn’t want to later think, “So close yet so far away.” But then again what are the chances of me running into him on a busy New York City street? After killing some time, pretending to be having a hard time picking out apples, when, actually I was secretly waiting for him, my brain overthrew my heart. While my brain was too busy commanding my feet, I was searching for him in the crowd, wishing to see him once, just once. Fully aware of the odds of seeing him, my heart was whispering me to just at least keep a lookout. To my complete shock, I spotted my eighth wonder of the world. Right that moment, the field of magnetism between my upper and lower sets of teeth vanished. While my tongue and feet became frozen, my heart seemed to be the complete opposite. It was getting heated to be dancing to Gangnam Style’s footwork routine. The feet stomping were so loud and so real as if I was listening to someone else’s heartbeat through a stethoscope. His, up all night gaming, eyes were glued strictly to his pathway, making him look as if he is daydreaming about his bed. The polluted air slipped though his soft hair and pushed his hair back, making it look like a shorter version of Johnny Bravo's hair. As his negative x coordinate increased assuming that my x coordinate is at the origin, the fist sized organ behind my chest stopped dancing at once. The point when our x coordinates were exactly at the origin, I think my heart jumped a beat. It was like waking up on top of a Peruvian mountain with mild fog and Sandra Bullock quietly playing the water cups in the background. I remember feeling so stress free that I can smell the purity of the fresh air of the Himalayas to the Andes mountain ranges. I could taste the pure and natural spring water of the Catskill Mountain. I could feel the coolness of the fog turning into water as it comes in contact with my skin. SNAP! Reality hits, and he was already at Joe’s stand picking out an apple just the way I daydreamed. “Someday, we’ll meet again,” I thought and then skipped down the stair to the subway.

Journal Entry # 2

Ten Categories
1. Things that scares me
    a. Ghost-- I see a women standing on the side of the road wearing all white and carrying a baby who is also cover by the white cloth. "what is she doing in the middle of the night?" i asked. The     driver responded, "i have only heard about it but never saw one before, it's a ghost."
    b. heights
    c. death
    d. becoming a middle aged cat lady
    e. trust
2. Things that makes me angry
   a. arrogant people
   b. liars
   c. little annoying kids-- I am already in a sad mood about going back to the US but now a 10 hours flight with 2 cry babies? Gosh i wish i can put a tape over their mouth. See this is exactly why airlines should prohibit little kids form flying.
   d. know-it-all
   e. China
3. Things that makes me happy
   a. food
   b. movies
   c. shopping
   d. going back to India-- Oh my gosh, we are about to land, oh my god, oh my god, my heart is pounding really hard with excitement, i think it's going to explode.
   e. Making up dance routines with my best friend
4. Things that irritates me
   a. amatures
   b. clingy people
   c. people who are desperate for attention
   d. people who bring their kids to beg for money in the train
   e. Mosquitoes-- "Look at my legs, it looks like i have some kind of skin disease, how come you guys don't get bitten by mosquitoes?" i asked. My best friend replies, "Maybe they got tired of sucking our blood and came to you for fresh blood." 
5. Shows that i like
   a. Grey's Anatomy
   b. Walking Dead
   c. Keeping Up With The Kardashians
   d. Pyaar Ka Dard Hai (Hindi)
   e. Arjun (Hindi)-- "Woh, this new show looks like a must watch," claimed my cousin. I reply in disbelief, "are you serious? this looks like a typical stupid Indian action show where fighting scenes look more like a dance move."
6. Things i want to do 
   a. learn how to drive
   b. learn how to ride a bike with gear
   c. travel the worlds with my sisters and my cousin
   d. learn Muy Thai
   e. Make my parents proud-- My older sister is the superstar, education wise, in my family and i am expected to follow her footsteps. i admit that i am not exactly the Einstein but i want to do what my parents want because if i don't i know i will regret it later in life.
7. Things that makes me sad
   a. death-- Wow, so momo (grandma) is really dead! I am never going to see her ever again. Like i can imagine her face but that's it, that's the only i will see her, just through imaging only. "Right now momo is on her path to heaven," cried my aunt.
   b. sick people
   c. starving kid
   d. Tibetans self-immolating themselves
   e. sad movies
8. Things i do in my free time
   a. watch movies
   b. decorate my room
   c. eat
   d. play dress up game by myself
   e. day dream-- I wish life can go according to my day dreams because then i would be living a stress-free life in India. But it never happens the way i want it to happen, i think it's because i have to stand on my own feet and then i will be able to shape my life the way i want it to be. 
9. Places i want to see
   a. Taj Mahal, Agra, India
   b. Tibet-- "How does Tibet look when you used to live there?"I ask my grandma. Like always she replied, "everywhere you look it's green with mountains surrounding you..."
   c. Bodhgaya, India
   d. Shimla, India
   e. Venice, Italy
10. Things i want to do before i die
   a. take my parents to Tibet
   b. become a doctor and save kids in poor countries for free
   c. be able to see my parent whenever i want after marriage
   d. have an awesome life with only one husband
   e. Run the T.T. hospital with my best friend-- "I used to think highly of this hospital when it first opened up." i said. My best friend replies, "yeah now it's just a beauty with nothing inside, but we should run it together when you get your medical degree." Then i made a deal, "i fix the people, and you do your accounting magic."

Journal Entry # 1

2 Truths and 1 Lie
1. My best friend inspired me to become more religious this summer. Before i believed in the existence of higher power but i always believed more in science. For example, i didn't believe in praying to god when i wish for something. However,  I did believe that he can work miracle sometimes. One day, at the temple, i heard my best friend reciting some prayer, and i was shocked that she knows all the words because i have never seen a teenager reciting all the prayer words by heart. From that day on, i wanted to become more religious and believe more in god than science, and so far, i do.

2. When switching a flight in Brussels, Belgium, i was, publicly, body searched very thoroughly by the Belgian security. I taking off my shoes when the security lady told me to keep it on when when i told her that it had metals on. So obviously the machine rings and i moved to the side thinking how stupid and useless it was and all the sudden, the security lady starts feeling my arms. At first i thought, i thought, "whatever i guess they don't have the handheld scanner." But then she started to feel around my breast and in between my legs, in public and not to mention my brother and my father standing by. I was so shocked that i couldn't say anything. I was so embarrassed and to top it off, people on the lines were starring at me, i guess they have never seen this kind of security search too.

3. I met the Tibetan prime minister, Lobsang Sangay. I got to shake hands with him and it was just the coolest experience after meeting the Dalai Lama. He came to my town to speak with the public and afterwards, my friends and i went to shake hands with him as he was being escorted to his car. He shook our hands and said, "I hope you kids take my story to your heart because you guys are the future of Tibet now." It was such an honor to talk to him even though it was just a few words. When he moved on to the next person on line to say goodbye, my friends and i quickly ran to a clear roadside to wave as he leaves.