Loose String

Picking on the loose string

Of days gone by,

Unraveling it further

And saying goodbye.

We wanted to say that you weren’t mine,

As we traveled down the line

Of truth and insincerity.

I couldn’t stop lying

And you grew tired of the person I had become.

Neither of us could let go.

You had to speak up,

Now I prepare for goodbye.

You’re about to speak,

So now you’re a loose string

That I have to clip.

Copyright © 2015 by Nita Pan

All rights reserved.  This post or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

Nobody Cares

Chaos,

Fires raging.

Life.

Diseases sweeping the nations.

People dying.

Women crying

As their children are swept

Into a world

Where the past is all but lost.

Forgetting where you come from

May be the biggest crime of all.

It’s hard to keep going on

Because I can’t find any good songs.

They’re all about making love

At the bar,

In the street on the car.

There’s no dignity anymore.

‘Cause saving yourself is ‘Old Fashioned.’

No one cares

If they get STDs.

Welcome to the 21st Century.

Copyright © 2015 by Nita Pan

All rights reserved.  This post or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

Too Different

“Be yourself.  No one else can be you.”

“Be unique!”

“You’re so original!”

“Why are you so…  different?

Wait, what?

“Why can’t you be like everyone else?”

“Normal people don’t dress like that.”

“God, you’re such a freak.”

To this day, I hear people compliment my uniqueness and the very same say that I’m too different.

Whatever that means.

I could go on a huge rant about how society conditions young people from childhood to be a certain way, and once they grow up, they’re an adequate example of society.  But the goal of this post is to get my message across in less that two hundred words.

Everyone is different and there will always be those who cut you down for it.

That’s the truth of it.

But guess what?

The same person who says you’re too different is being tormented for being unique, whether that torment is self-inflicted or not.

Be kind, shrug off the negative comment, and embrace the positive ones.

Be ‘too different.’

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Happy Birthday to Me

Slapping my cheek, I shake all negative thought out of my mind.  “They’re just caught in traffic.” I ramble to no one particular.  “Yeah, and they have no cell phone signal.”

Lies.  Nine hundred people live within the town limits.  No one gets caught in traffic.

Florescent blue flakes fall on my lap as I pick at my nail polish, and my eyes flicker between the clock and front door.  Would it hurt for them to at least call? 

The second hand ticks away at a fast, agonizing speed.  3:30, 3:31, 3:32, 3:33, 3:46, 3:50…  The time ticks away, and I begin to pace.

Where are they?

Falling on the love-seat, I scream into a throw pillow.  After a much needed meltdown, I angrily chuck a candle holder at the clock.  Glass showers the carpet.  Reading the clock, I feel a little bit of the frustration dissipate.  It will be eternally stuck at five ‘o’ clock.

The phone rings and I dive over the coffee table.

“Hello?” I rub my severely bruised shins.  “May I ask who’s calling?”

My heart sinks as a gruff voice echoes from the other end.  “Tell Phil that he has until tomorrow to bring me what he owes, or else-”

Slamming the phone on the receiver, I unplug it, throw it to the ground, and stomp on it.  A broken piece of plastic runs into my foot.  I kick it away.  Biting my palm to stop from crying in pain, I hobble into the kitchen.

Milk.  I need milk.  Milk calms my nerves.

Opening the fridge and grabbing the milk carton, I hiss out a blasphemy when it slips out of my grip and smashes down on my foot.  My vision blurs with tears.  Why didn’t they at least call?  I crumple to the ground and sob into my now soiled shirt.  I imagine my friends at our favorite coffee shop and laughing over their choice drinks.

Laughing at me.

“Happy birthday to me.”

Copyright © 2015 by Nita Pan

All rights reserved.  This post or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review.

Bad Boys, Bad Boys, Whatcha Gonna Do?

Why is it that some authors like to insert attractive villains into their stories?  Is it to make them relatable since the average human being doesn’t have scaly skin and eyes as black as the abyss?  Is it to make our little fan girl and fan boy hearts flutter at the thought of our favorite bad guy or girl entering the room armed with a dastardly plan?  Or is it all just a huge mind game to trick us readers into thinking that since they’re so pretty they can’t be bad?  The truth is, it’s most likely a little bit of all of those and some.

Well, whatever it is, here’s a villainous treat of some of my favorite (attractive) bad guys!

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Harry Osborne.  That rich friend of Peter Parker with killer blue eyes from The Amazing Spiderman 2.

Loki.  The gorgeous adopted son of Odin and dark haired brother of Thor.  This immortal cutie was seen in Thor, Thor: Dark World, and The Avengers.

Tom Riddle.  Voldemort before he lost his nose.  Now we see why Bellatrix was obsessed with him.

What are some of your favorites?

‘Sitters,’ ‘Takers,’ and the Truth of Both

(Taken from my old blog allegracassidy.wordpress.com.)

Not all those who wander are lost.

-excerpt from “All That is Gold Does Not Glitter”

by J. R. R. Tolkien

      As the wondrous author who wrote The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy said, “Not all those who wander are lost.”  Some are just shuffling around, waiting for the unexpected to occur and disrupt their monotonous schedule.  They are the ‘sitters.’  ‘Sitters’ are the cautious individuals who either have their lives mapped out or are too terrified to achieve change; which requires for ‘sitters’ to lose themselves.  Others are ‘takers.’  The ‘takers’ are those who at least seem to be more confident in their approach to life.  ‘Takers’ are willing to lose themselves for the change.  They are not afraid of the risk of becoming lost.

      But in truth, we are all ‘sitters’ and ‘takers.’  We want some sort of stability, and yet we thirst for adventure.  The desire for the thrill of getting lost in the enchantment of life runs through our veins. But the careful, logical part of our self wants to have some sort of stability to fall back on.  It seems that our entire existence as the human species  is a battle between the ‘sitter’ and ‘taker’ sides inside of us.  “I bet that I could eat that cake in one sitting.” versus “I could eat the desert, but I would gain excessive and unwanted weight.”  “Will I take the leap of faith and trust him/her?” and “Is it wise course of action?  I barely know the person.”  The war rages on and on.  Day in and day out, we contradict ourselves.

      We will most likely always have these inner battles.  The best course of action to deal with these ‘inner voices’ is to wander the paths in between.  We must be willing to take to sometimes dangerous journey in the midst of the two halves of us.  At the start, it may seem daunting and possibly hapless, but as always, at the beginning of any venture, it is difficult.  The key to success is to persevere and find the balance in between the both.

Copyright © 2014-2015 by Nita Pan

All rights reserved.  This post or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review.