Literature Network Forums - Blogs - Sipping the Tea by a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/blog.php?56934-Sipping-the-Tea The largest classic literature discussion forum on the Internet. Read Write Teach Share. en Fri, 05 Jun 2026 03:36:31 GMT vBulletin 10 https://www.online-literature.com/forums/images/misc/rss.jpg Literature Network Forums - Blogs - Sipping the Tea by a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/blog.php?56934-Sipping-the-Tea Aaaanyway... https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?9457-Aaaanyway Fri, 04 Dec 2009 18:42:59 GMT "Anyway..."
Well, just 'any way' hardly ever is the right way.

Will these heels dig out my grave?
I’ve done the interior decoratin' and everything--
Now I just need to sink into it.
Anyway, heels never really fit me.
I mean, they fit my feet – just not me.
On days like these, I go diggin’ for the big baggy blue jeans,
Brother’s giant hand-me-down shirts
Hidin' and floppin' over bones and tendons
And all that I lack
Like a Big Top hangs over suffocatin' tent poles.
I used to be a travelin' circus,
Full of laughs and wonder
And untamed tigers singin' in unchained cages.
These days, everybody wants a refund.

Anyway,

I have to forget now that you’re wonderful.
Oh, it was nothin' serious, that is,
It was all just girlish glam and glitter, you know,
You know—
I just wanted your respect,
Is all.
That’s all.

[Is there a Side 2 for life?
Flip me over and maybe I can fool you
Into believin' my bruised blues singin' is pretty again.]

There I was, see, in my big girl clothes,
All red and black and sleek --
But all it took was a look and a coupl'a words from your so-sure mouth,
And I was shattered;
My gum-chewin’, nail-bitin’,
hair–curlin, high-walkin’,
honky tonk façade was gone in a fizzle
As my heart and soul went sailin' south for the winter.

Oh, and honey,
It’ll be a cold one. ]]> a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?9457-Aaaanyway Soul trim. https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?9185-Soul-trim Mon, 02 Nov 2009 04:40:20 GMT "I just died a little inside."

But I guess that means you grow older too, a little, right? One more step deeper into life, closer to death. I don't mean to sound morbid-- growing older is a good thing. I'm still enjoying life.

I have to take my life by the reins before I can even consider leaving the beach. For this coming weekend, I had wanted to celebrate my brother's and sister's birthdays, and I had wanted to go to Augusta for my own reasons, but I know best now that I can't. I have to work that weekend because I desperately need the money. Bills are piling up, school work is piling up, the world is piling up on me and I can't hold onto it if I take even one step away from it at this point.

They always wonder why I cut my hair-- and they cry and kick and beg for me not too. But I did it when I moved to Myrtle Beach from Augusta, when I broke up with my now-ex... It's not so much as me giving up on something... Cutting off my hair is just symbolic of taking a deeper than deep breath, I suppose-- of letting something go.

I haven't loved someone in a long time, and I'm beginning to wonder if I'm just incapable of it, like my ex said.

Anyway, I'm re-posting this from the poetry threads because it fit.

Babble

I can't take care of you.

My goals have been leveled,
The debris and ash falls still,
(Though if from it a phoenix rises,
I would fly to you on its wings).
And I test the weight of the rubble,
And I judge the distance from the sky--
And in dismay fully realize the great heights
I once built those dreams up towards.

It's a long way back up.

At very first glance
I wanted to tell you,
"I can't take care of you."
But I glanced again
Trying to fool myself
Into a "Maybe I can."
So I said nothing -
That's been the way of it lately.
This urn has run dry,
This pen does not yield any longer,
This heart (always) has room but
These arms are loaded
With the remnants of a fallen Tower of Babel,
At the center of my vanquished Babylon.
Forgive me for believing in
The Glory of the Man Who Dreams.

I know the rhymes well-
It's a long, dark way to Babylon
And now the warm wax drips around my fingers,
The flame, having swallowed the wick whole,
Choked, and killed itself;
The smoke, freed of its molten chain
Has long since passed with the last wind --
The last, tired breath I gave for this
Broken city.

And though my feet are still nimble and light,
They are unguided.

The girl you saw is only a girl,
Only a woman-child,
Only the echo of an oral myth,
Twisted in time,
A hollow cast of rusted tin
In the backyard of her youth,
Surrounded by the wilted
Hanging Gardens
Of her dreams.

I would be brutally ashamed
And mortified
If I took your hand
In my burned and burdened one
And was not able to hold on.

I can't take care of you. ]]> a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?9185-Soul-trim <![CDATA[My heart won't stay silent around you.]]> https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?9129-My-heart-won-t-stay-silent-around-you Thu, 22 Oct 2009 06:00:13 GMT I watched him go as the cars swept by
And the smoker's circle
Exchanged the Sunday morning news.
There was a squid necklace clutched in my hand (gasping for air
as my heart gasped for courage.)

I shouted at him.
He shouted back.

The day was mine.

I was the envy of the parking lot.

This time, I think I'll kiss him.
And if he returns the kiss,

I will be the envy of the world. ]]> a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?9129-My-heart-won-t-stay-silent-around-you Dare https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8732-Dare Sat, 15 Aug 2009 05:21:40 GMT I'm not a spin-the-bottle kind of girl.
You can't catch me with seven minutes in heaven.
I prefer the game that makes you break a sweat,
The one that makes you try a little harder,
Reach a little farther.

Go ahead.
I dare you to prove them wrong.
Pull the laziness out from the center of you with a string –
It feels strange, awakening.
I want you to
Hit me with your passion,
Make me sob in envy
Over the beauty of your dreams,
And the power with which you seek them.
Do it.
I dare you -
I dare you to make a stand,
I double-dog dare you to step outside of your velveteen world
And become Real -
To take down the posters,
To strip off the baby-blue border,
To step into your big-boy shoes
And kick the asses of all of those you said, “You can never-“
Out of your life while whispering,
“Do you see what I can do now?
Do you see who I am?”
I want you to do it.
I don’t want you to settle,
To say, “This is who I am,”
While staring at yourself in a mirror,
A prince in a pauper’s suit,
Whispering, “I want so much more.”

I dare you.
I dare you to make it a Truth.
I dare you to step over here and say to me,
“I did it.”
I might kiss you then, but not before -
Until then, I'll only hold your hand
And give you zits. ]]> a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8732-Dare Breadcrumbs https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8624-Breadcrumbs Sun, 26 Jul 2009 06:59:10 GMT _Breadcrumbs _ I wonder if he cried when he was driving away. (The one time I needed to cry for an audience, I thought of this) – Long... Breadcrumbs


I wonder if he cried when he was driving away.
(The one time I needed to cry for an audience,
I thought of this) –
Long fingers gripped around the steering wheel,
Chest heaving,
Music muted -
Oh, brother mine.

The break came once-upon-a-time ago
With a slow, quiet kind of stab in the dark (the worst kind),
Not very long across, but very deep -
A loss of trust, oozing out of the gash she opened
Like angry, burning pus.
(Evil stepmothers do exist,
And they won’t let you go to the ball,
And they’ll stick you in a cage and feed you toxic candy
Until you’re thick with hurt.)
Not until the whole of him had leaked out
Did we realize it would never be the same -
But we left a solid trail:
Horsey-back rides,
Space shows and movies no one remembers;
A world of our own,
A city of movies and books stacked high –
The last game we ever played -
Stacked high to make a city that spanned a world;
Lincoln logs and mutant football;
Hiding in the closet,
Much too excited about being in trouble.

Long after the knife had been tossed away
The hole gaped open still
(Perhaps the shard of a demon’s mirror caught within) -
And who can blame him?
That pain is unforgettable.

And on the other side,
The one who let them get away,
The one with a thousand regrets
And a heart of gold,
The one who seemed to have been
Numbed, fed a poison apple,
And lay trapped, sleeping, in a glass coffin,
Woke up to find that children do grow,
And they do remember.
Oh, father mine.


I stood at the top of the stairs,
The voices rising below me -
One that could have made Hephaestus shudder,
So angry, so hard, so immovable-
The other held up against it, but trembled
With a child’s hurt.
I could only sit,
And stare –
I can’t remember what happened.
I think I blocked it out-
What I said before he left,
“Please, don’t go-“
I hope. I hope.

It wasn’t the stepmother or the witch, really –
It was that they had to leave home that hurt the most.


And when he was driving away,
Trying to reach the age of forty in five minutes,
His whole body trying to hold up
Against the flood that threatened to rise up through that
Gaping hole -
The little boy was still there, waiting to be held and told,
“I’m sorry”
And
“I still love you ” -

I have to say, I hope he cried.
I don’t know.
Then there would be some kind of hope that
He’s still there.
Home's still here.
We’re all still here.
We’re all still here. ]]> a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8624-Breadcrumbs <![CDATA[Why can't we just all hold hands and sing along to the Beatles?]]> https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8537-Why-can-t-we-just-all-hold-hands-and-sing-along-to-the-Beatles Mon, 13 Jul 2009 20:02:25 GMT This is a long bit of writing about something I don't usually talk about, unless approached. I feel however, since this is my blog, I need to let a little bit out.



I was approached at work the other day by one of the other waitresses - a hilarious girl I'd love to converse with any day while rolling my silverware.

She was joking around with me while I punched in an order. "You must be a good Christian girl. Always doin' your stuff, bein' nice to customers."

And I said, "oh, thank you!" And laughed a little. One of my closer friends there suddenly laughed, seeing my expression. (Two weeks ago she'd asked what church I went to. I'd simply replied, "Oh, I don't."

"Why not? No time?"

"Ah, no, I'm not Christian."

"Oh, what do you practice?"

"I'm an atheist, actually."

She was a little quiet for a moment, and then in a rush of breath said, "Oh, that's fine, girl, I mean, I know it doesn't mean you're a bad person."

And I just gave her a hug and kissed her hair.)

"What's so funny? You're not a good girl?"

"Oh, it's not that - she's not a Christian."

"... Haleigh, is this true?" Her expression turned grim. "Girl, we need to talk."

"Oh, honey, I'm fine. I'm not depressed - I'm a happy person, and I truly respect your beliefs. But I've been an atheist for a long time."

She won't stop approaching me on the matter now. "Girl, I am praying for you." I thank her and nod, but that's all I can really say. I don't want to put her down on the matter, but I just don't want her to worry.


My evolution of thought began at a very young age. I was Quaker up until about 5th grade when I started to practice Wicca - that only lasted a year. In seventh grade, I told my best friend that I no longer believed in a god. I wasn't afraid. I actually felt... settled. She told me that she still loved me and would pray for me.

The next day when I went to sit by her at lunch, as usual, she turned to me and said, "I don't talk to people who don't believe in god."

And we did not speak again, for a very long time (that is, until we both discovered Facebook).

High school helped me to come out of my shell a little bit. My friends were all amazingly open-minded, some sharing similar views, some being deeply rooted in their own religion. I think they all knew that love was the order of the day. In an AP group trip to Barnes and Noble to study Dante's Inferno, a well-balanced debate sprung up about belief and nonbelief (so much for studying, right? - It's ok, most of us aced the exam). Amazingly, we all ended up laughing and joking over our lattes rather than destroying friendships.

This was probably why when I got to college and had to take a course called GNED that I was so startled by the lack of freethinkers at my university. The course was apparently designed to help us look into our inner-selves and express our personal thoughts and opinions in a diverse environment peacefully. Considering the broad topics that swept us through politics, civil rights, philosophy, religion, and atheism - something was bound to come up.

The first thing to 'come up' was my teacher calling me out in class and offering a book to me. It was a guide to finding my way back into God's light - or something along those lines. I was more than a little embarrassed, but having immense respect for the professor, only accepted it with a smile and a thank you.

When we forged into the religious readings and discussions, things got a little heated. There were a small group of people who believed in theistic evolution and a huge debate-turned-argument exploded between them and a group of Baptist girls. I picked up my pen and started drawing when it got this point:

"SO I'M SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE THAT ALL OF THIS WAS CREATED IN SEVEN DAYS?"

"WELL YOU THINK WE EVOLVED FROM MONKEYS."

I had to remind myself that I was at a university and not back in biology class in high school. It may seem like I'm attacking Christians here - I'm absolutely not. I have way too many Christian friends and have way too much respect for them. Some atheists hop into those arguments as if there were 1000000 dollars at the end of it (little realizing that these arguments rarely end) - I do not. Nor do I sit in corners with other atheists and bash Christians. I helped to found WOOF (Organization of Freethinkers) at my college in to help promote tolerance between the religious and the non-religious, not to start fights.

It wasn't until a later class when a girl sharply stated that all non-Christians were going to hell that I put down my pen and stated my POV.


I stated first, that I was an atheist, but I was going to stand for all non-Christians.

Psalms 14:1:

1 The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God. They are corrupt, they have done abominable works, there is none that doeth good.
In ancient Greek philosophy there stood then the Golden Rule. You know how it goes: Do unto others....

It has taken different shapes in various philosophies and was even spoken by Jesus in the book of Luke - but it was there before the idea of Jesus/Jesus himself ever was.

I believe in humanity. I believe in Love. I believe in forgiveness and that a letter of gratitude left on a napkin is worth more than all the cash in my apron pockets. I believe in holding my friend's hands when they cry, and that a mother's love is priceless beyond measure. I believe that one act of kindness goes a long way, that one selfish deed goes just as far in a different direction - that we create our own destinies. I'm an existentialist, and I believe in the fight against the absurd. I believe in hope, and that as beautiful as the story is, it did not spring from a box opened by a curious girl with a curious name, but rather sprang from the human heart because we are brave enough to believe in the goodness of mankind.

Hell does not exist. It is another storyland - and a frightful one at that.

At the end of the road of life I -terrifyingly enough (and I think it's ok to be afraid of death - living, afterall, is such a beautiful thing) - will cease to be, entirely. I can only hope that I will be happy when I die. I'm not a perfect person - I get angry, and I've had my selfish moments. We all do. And hopefully, we're able to change.

The lack of my belief in any hell or light of any god does not give me freedom to go robbing banks - it is my belief in love that keeps me safe, and happy, and content (for the moment, until I can get a better-paying job) with the money I make at the restaurant.

That this life is all I have makes it that much more precious and all the more important to live it to it's fullest. I create my heaven (or hell) here.


So after my speech, the group of girls were shaking their heads - except one.

And that one ran over to me when I was heading back to the dorms. And this happened (I kid you not, ya'll, it's one of my fondest memories):

"Hey, I just wanted to let you know... those girls said some pretty mean things about you after class- I didn't know if you heard them. And I'm sorry."

"It's ok, it happens." I shrugged. "Different beliefs."

"Well, no - it's not just that. See, they weren't being Christians. I'm Christian. And you aren't a bad person. To me, and most of us, I hope, God is Love. So see? We believe in the same thing."

Then she hugged me, and I was quite overwhelmed. We were both kind of teary-eyed. It was one of those things you see in Lifetime movies.


As for existentialism, I described my look on it with an analogy to a philosophy major friend when he stated that existentialism was kind of depressing.

"This is how I see it. It's like working as a waitress. In the restaurant, you never know who you'll get. They've come in from far and wide, different shapes and sizes, rich and poor - so poor they've had to walk out, so rich that country green beans just don't cut it for them. You never know what personality you'll end up with. You also never know if you're going to run out of a much-loved food item at the last minute and have to go back and tell the table, There are angry people and there are nice people, people who don't smile and people who can't stop laughing, children that throw crayons, children that tell you about their day. And no matter how frustrated I get with anyone, because of food, because of how many tables - or how few tables - I have, I still try and be nice. I could work as hard as hell and get nothing, but I still try. Because there was that one man who came in alone and left me a twenty and a compliment, because there was another lady who left me a heartfelt note on her receipt, because one little boy told me he liked my eyes. You never know, with life - it's absurd, it's wild. You can only do your best. If you need to cry, that's what friends are for (and in the restaurant business, waitress friends are important to have), and breakrooms. If you need help, the same. Overall, a smile goes a long way - that's really what I work for (but I'm not gonna lie, rent's kind of important too)."

Basically, why can't we all just hold hands and sing a long to the Beatles? We're all so beautifully different - a small, select group of people not-so-beautiful (murderers, rapists, etc)- and yet more alike than we can possibly imagine. We can say, "I'm a Christian," or, "I'm an atheist," all we want, but at the end of the day, I'm Haleigh, and she's Jessica, and we're both here to live.

I sound like such a hippie. :lol:

I think that ends this bit! If you read it - go you! That's a lot! o_o ]]> a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8537-Why-can-t-we-just-all-hold-hands-and-sing-along-to-the-Beatles <![CDATA[A Wisp's Attempt at Romance]]> https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8457-A-Wisp-s-Attempt-at-Romance Mon, 29 Jun 2009 21:39:09 GMT I am slightly in love. Just slightly.

I mean, he has no idea, and I'm sort of bad at flirting, so ... I'm sure he'll be surprised once he discovers he's the object of my attention. We play CS (Counterstrike) together (he's one of my brother's very good friends) and met when I was in Augusta a few weeks ago.

It was one of those entirely unexpected things. I knew he was coming over with a lot of the other guys (I was the only female, as usual. :sick:) but I didn't expect anything from meeting him...

Then, there I was, my hair mussed up, smoking hooka with the guys on the porch (not a very common thing we do, just for party times), barefoot and probably looking slightly like a hippie - not the best first impression.

He has blue eyes, bluer than anything I've seen.

I shook his hand.

Starting up an intelligent conversation about Dante's Inferno didn't help either. Or that he has two jobs, has been to Italy, doesn't want to settle for less, can't spell but is a brilliant biologist and mathematician, has a goofy sense of humor and wears converse.

Since it was our Get Together week, we played Laser tag the next day - I was trying to flirt.

But since I've been around most of these guys for forever (since I was a little girl), it was hard... I mean, I tease all of them, hug all of them, ruffle their hair. They're my brothers.

Everyone has been urging me to go down and ask him out on a date, but ... we live so far from each other. I've seen people make it work, but I've seen it crash and burn so hard at the same time. I know, a date is simpler than what I'm talking about, but he's also my brother's good friend, and while my brother knows I'm attracted, he probably thinks I won't act on it - as usual.

We've been talking a lot over the internet since the visit, and I've decided that I'm going back to Augusta at the end of July (or earlier). I want to see him, just to see what happens...

Today I was running downstairs and I shouted to Linda, "I think I'm going to make a trip to Augusta soon."

She had a smile in her voice when, after a moment, she asked, "Who is he?"

I was astounded, and so very caught. Who knew it showed?

I told her his name, and she laughed.


...I hope this works. Any suggestions? ]]> a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8457-A-Wisp-s-Attempt-at-Romance From Out of Nowhere... https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8424-From-Out-of-Nowhere Thu, 25 Jun 2009 20:13:18 GMT Coming home has been the strangest thing. We're supposed to be moving out and Linda's moving in. Which is just fine. I like her very much.

I don't know when the house will get sold, but... something in me wants it to get sold, and soon. Something has been building lately - a desperate need to shed, to cast off the old skin.

I was packing and saw how many useless things I own. Everything I keep has a time and place, a memory, but some of these memories are choking me now, anchoring me down.

I was on the beach with my best friend last night. We made jokes and watched the clouds roll by and the stars come out. At four AM when I drove home, I was so very, very calm - as though I'd entered the heart of the storm of my life, and looking up through the windy, gray tunnel I saw the sky was indeed blue, the sun still shines.

She wrote a note today online to old friends. To one of them that was not me she said, "You will always be my best friend." I was jealous and more than a little hurt. To all these old friends she used to have before I came, she wrote and wrote... I know I can't be apart of everything. I don't want to be.

Suddenly, I wondered if that would be me. In the notes to the old ones. "Where did you go? Do you remember when we laid on the beach and watched the stars and scared ourselves when we saw that face in the clouds... Why do things have to end, why can't we all carry on despite all the change..."

And I will say, in the words of Peter S. Beagle, "There are no happy endings, because nothing ends."

Truly, nothing ends. And she writes to these people wondering where they'd gone - they were there all along, and not the same, certainly different, certainly changed, but still themselves.

I cling to all these things as if in apology for growing older (though not up, for I'll always be a child at heart) - I owe them nothing. If anything , I owe it to them to let go, to let them pass away into new hands to change and grow, to reach a new place in themselves.

There are things that must be kept, and things that I must, for a time, put away. Velveteen Rabbit.

We all need to, once and while, revisit the attic of our minds, to sift through the dust and survey, with sight blurred by tears, memories, and in our memories feelings awaken and who is now practically a stranger becomes once again a best friend.

When the reminiscing ends we leave the sepia world behind and step back into one that is that much brigher, and become that much wiser.

And I will be at the table, gazing out at the sea with a blanket in my hand and a story in my eyes, and then I'll rise and turn to her and take her dusty hand in mine and continue living. ]]> a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8424-From-Out-of-Nowhere Advanced Cat Yodeling. https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8245-Advanced-Cat-Yodeling Tue, 19 May 2009 19:09:22 GMT That's all:

/watch?v=cxLG2wtE7TM&eurl=http%3A%2F%2Ficanhascheez burger.com%2F&feature=player_embedded

(I think the sniffing part is strangely hilarious but...the yodeling doesn't HURT the cat, does it?) ]]> a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8245-Advanced-Cat-Yodeling Nooo! https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8222-Nooo! Fri, 15 May 2009 04:48:53 GMT NOOOOOO



(:lol::lol::lol::lol:) ]]> a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8222-Nooo! my world tilts by 90 degrees. https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8188-my-world-tilts-by-90-degrees Sun, 10 May 2009 17:57:45 GMT I have taken change in stride my whole life. Moving four hours from Pineville, from my family, from my mother, in second grade... Moving from... I have taken change in stride my whole life.

Moving four hours from Pineville, from my family, from my mother, in second grade...

Moving from best friends in the summer before 9th to brave high school alone...

And going to college, finally, and making friends on the first day - friends that I still have at this very moment.

When I moved from GA to Myrtle Beach, it was like a dream come true - a chance at new beginnings. For my brother, it was hell.


I'm in college now, and I shouldn't mind so much since I've lived in my own apartment for year.

But I'm moving out of my apartment now for the summer and for the semester after, so I could take a break at home.

Anyway, Dad calls this morning.

"So about the things you're bringing back -everything needs to go into storage for awhile, because the house is going up for sale at the end of the month, and less clutter is going to help us sell it faster."

....Naturally. I mean, naturally, I was a little shocked. And this was the first time I heard ANYTHING about moving, and I mean, he had mentioned it, but said that if we did, we'd rent out the little house.

This is .. my little beach house. My green room. My tiny kitchen. Our tiny porch...

"I'm moving up in the world, Hal!" He explained.

...and I want to scream, "What exactly does that MEAN? That we can go and jump on the next big boat that sails? Isn't this all a bit hasty? Aren't we a little too excited? You've been seeing this girl we're moving with for a year - and while she's wonderful, will you regret it if things go wrong? (It's gone wrong before, three times, big time.)"

Instead, I just took a deep (really deep) breath, and he laughed.

"Hal, the house is going to be closer to the beach!"

"We're TWO BLOCKS from the beach!"

"It's gonna be on STILTS. :D"

"That's...kind of terrifying!"

":D Hal, come on!"

It's not like I cried. I just ... rubbed my face. I know I'm being selfish. Dad was never satisfied with the most comfortable route. He needs to move - he's like me.

But while I move, I always want a place to come back to. I don't know.

... This is his life now. I'm on my way to starting my own life. I can't fight this - I don't exactly want to. Sometimes I can't help but to be excited about something new, like now...

still, I wanted....

I wanted that little house for myself one day. ]]> a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8188-my-world-tilts-by-90-degrees <![CDATA[Harrison's Rebellion.]]> https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8175-Harrison-s-Rebellion Fri, 08 May 2009 21:10:17 GMT (Names were changed.) Though having only gained a few short hours of slumber the night before, the Night Warriors strode into their domain.... (Names were changed.)

Though having only gained a few short hours of slumber the night before, the Night Warriors strode into their domain. Outside, it was warm with a hint of spring wafting through the air. Inside, the kitchens were hot and the air thick with with the smell of grease, but the warriors fought through it - they were there to serve.

Most every day they did this - Silent Carmen, small but stout-hearted; Black-Haired-One-of-Three-Male-Servers Harrison, quick and gregarious; lovely Elizabeth the Gentle; Harrison's lady, the fair Emily of Haunting Eyes; and Wisp, the Bright-Eyed-and-Bushy-Tailed-Ribbon-Wearing Lady of Laughter. They worked on the West Field, where the customers were rough and worn, where smoke drifted up from every table - no clear-lunged man or woman ever dared to step foot in those lands.

The West Field and the East Floor Night Warriors served every wanderer that passed through the doors with grace and efficiency.

It was not long after midday, however, when Black-Haired Harrison discovered something awful: The warriors who had served that morning had not completed their tasks, tasks that were meant to support the evening soldiers so that their work went smoothly, uninterrupted - in a single word, safely. In fury, our hero slammed the freezer door shut, the sound startling the other workers. He then strode away, wordlessly, from the empty containers that should have been filled with condiments for the evening workers.


Wisp was not laughing any longer, the light fading from her eyes as she peered into the empty bins. She herself had been meant to scout the condiment area, and now she was worried about what else had been left undone.

Lady Donna, who worked on the East Floor, cried out in anguish as she discovered that of the bleu cheese, yea, verily, that fine cheese, there was none to be found! Wisp moaned as she discovered that kids cups and lids had not been stocked either, and knew that surely all would fall behind in the afternoon with all the work that had to be done- that had been left undone.

"Damn me! Cried Matt the Stoic from behind the steamtable as he discovered that his tools had not been properly stocked. "It seems the warriors who came before us would rather commit murder than do their duty!"

How could they have been so betrayed?

Then, Harrison appeared, his eyes blazing with fury as he cast down a scrap parchment into the window for all to see.

"Here me now!" He cried out, and the mournful faces of the once-proud Night Warriors lifted in his direction. "Here me now, my friends, for we shall not suffer these injustices! We have been betrayed! Each night, when the hour is darkest, we fight to hold our ground, to please the people, and now those whom we trusted to help us - as we help them before we wearily retire - have turned their backs on us! Should the Lords whom we answer to not hear our plea for justice, such a revolt we will start that the walls of this building will tremble in our rage and the biscuits we cook will taste of resentment and the cornbread of revenge! TOO LONG we have come to battle to find that we carry more than our own load! No more! Here, upon these pieces of serving note- er, parchment, we will each state our grievances and sign, and then pass them on directly to the Lords of the House so that they may, if they are just, mete out the correct punishment to those who have failed us! Time and again we have tried to express our displeasure through the spoken word, individually - now our voices shall be united as one, in silence, as our pens cry out, 'JUSTICE' to a such volume that the calls of the heralds in the heavens shall be overcome, that the wails and the echoes of lashings in hell will be subdued. Come together now, and with the same ink that you upon your ground serve the people, sign this parchment! Speak out, write out! When this is completed, I will deliver the parchment myself, and we shall be heard. GIVE ME LIBERTY OR GIVE ME...

Free biscuits, on the job."

With a roar, the warriors rushed forward, each of them pouring out from their hearts the long repressed anger they felt for the stress they'd been dealt.

"Never again, when I arrive at the noon-hour, must I find any sort of blackberry glob in my microwave again!" Shouted Wisp, and in her trademark bright, glittering green ink, she recorded each of the errors of the midday warriors' ways, and then with large sweeping strokes constructed her signature so that all would know how strongly she felt.

After everyone had signed, Harrison brought the parchment to our Lords.

Lord Mike read the parchment, and as voice after voice described each gruesome detail in their account, his face turned a peculiar shade of red, and the big man rose to his feet. His voice rumbled like thunder- so loud it was that even the bravest of men would feel a quiver of fear in his heart. With fire in his eyes he cried: "WHO WERE THE LIEUTENANTS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE OVERSEEING OF THE WARRIORS' TASKS?"

Only one came forward, the other having fled two hours ago. The one who came had few words- she only sputtered out foul excuses as the Lord glowered down at her with a less-than understanding gaze. She thought she would burst into flames from his fury, from her shame, then and there.

"TELL ME HARRISON," roared the Lord. "THE NAMES OF THE WARRIORS."

"I cannot," Harrison replied, his voice grim. "The names were long ago erased off of the list."

"SO BE IT. I WILL SEE TO THIS TOMORROW. NEVER AGAIN WILL THIS OCCUR, YOU HAVE MY WORD."

The joyous calls of the warriors filled the aisles, and the Western troupe clapped Harrison on the shoulder for his good work.

"I must say," Wisp shouted to him, the laughter back in her tone, "I've always wanted to be a part of a rebellion! It will go down in history books, to be sure!"

"To be sure! Harrison's Rebellion!"

Much merry-making followed, but the rebellion had not solved the problem at hand - there was still much work to be done in order to be prepared for the evening siege.

Such is the warrior-life of a Waiter, or a Waitress, whose task is to serve. Serve they will do, and proudly, but behind their dedication lies a need to be respected.

"It is such a pity I missed it," sighed the Lady Elizabeth to Wisp as she rolled her silverware dejectedly.

"Aye. 'Twas a powerful moment, Lizzy. Quite powerful." ]]> a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8175-Harrison-s-Rebellion Procrastination has led me to bad romances, grilled cheese, and tea at 3:45 AM. https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8139-Procrastination-has-led-me-to-bad-romances-grilled-cheese-and-tea-at-3-45-AM Mon, 04 May 2009 08:24:36 GMT ... And in other news, EXAMS ARE OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I could not be happier. I walked out of juries (singing juries),... ... And in other news, EXAMS ARE OVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I could not be happier. I walked out of juries (singing juries), grinning and practically skipping - that is, until I tripped when my heels sunk into recently rained-on ground.

So I took off my heels and walked home barefoot.

The weekend that has followed was delightful! Work has been a joy, even closing Saturday night was MUCH better than the last!! We got out early and in cheerful spirits! I was heading to my apartment last night, too, when I was kidnapped by my friends and taken to an awesome early birthday party. I stayed until the birthday girl herself fell asleep on me, giggling tipsily. I love the girls.

Spring has permeated our skin and summer now sweeps into our bones! We cannot resist the sunlight and greenery! Noooo! (Yaay!)

And then a guy at work I find terribly funny and attractive gave me his number.:blush:

But I found out today he's dating.:sick:

BUT I'M STILL HAPPY. :D I'm going home, I'm going home, I'm going home - I sing all the time, my fingers ache for the pen, motivation bubbles up within me from some unknown source-!

Soon. Very soon now, I'll be home and...

Oh, men who know the ocean's way
Take this girl to the sand -
To wander o'er the great wide world,
To know the ways of land.

I'll miss the toss of her blue curls
Her sweetly sweeping songs-
For in her ever-open arms,
Is where my soul belongs.

Oh, let the waves roll me back
To the place where I belong,
Let the wind carry far
This lonely seeker's song -
And let the cry of the seabird
Echo in my heart
As I journey far and wide
And make myself a part
Of the land.

Those sweet ladies o'er there,
They'd like to marry well-
To catch them a fine sailor,
And kiss him a farewell.

Well, I'd rather see the world
And then return to the sea
To the man who holds my heart,
And shares his joys with me.

Let the wind carry me
To the place where I belong,
Let the waves roll to him
This lonely seeker's song -
And let the call of the siren
Never reach his heart
As I journey far and wide
And make myself a part
Of the world.

Lift off, cast my sails!
Spread their white-winged glory
To the wind!

And when all my searching's done,
And I've conquered on the earth,
Then I surely will return
To the shoreline of my birth
Where the ocean sings her song,
And that man still waits for me-
I find where I belong,
On an endless stretch of sea-

Let the waves carry me
Back to the place where I belong,
Let the wind whisper to him
His lonely lady's song -
And let the cry of the seabird
Echo in his heart,
To tell him that: "The journey ends
When a new one takes a start."

Let the waves roll us back
To the wide and open sea,
Let the wind carry far
This gypsy's melody -
And let the cry of the seabirds
Echo in our hearts
As we leave on the next tide
To make ourselves a part

Of our home on the waves
Where the sun is known to play
Casting rays of his gold
On warm and sunny days-
And when the storms blow us over
We'll sing to Her good grace!
And never fear each temperament
On Her wide and open face!

Sha-la lee la
Lalala!
Sha-la lalala...
]]> a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8139-Procrastination-has-led-me-to-bad-romances-grilled-cheese-and-tea-at-3-45-AM <![CDATA[In the Game of Survival of the Fittest - I am 'pwned'.]]> https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8089-In-the-Game-of-Survival-of-the-Fittest-I-am-pwned Sun, 26 Apr 2009 08:49:28 GMT I let people walk all over me. Not so much at school, no, but yea, in the work place. Restaurant business- or with mine, at least - isn't... I mean, you just have to learn to work with people. But today, the girls were just... I realized how incredibly mean they can be when they want to be.

I was checker, for the first time tonight- basically, you close, and no one can leave without you checking their side-work and tables-

I was checker for the first time on a SATURDAY.

One of the girls was first cut and had a really bad side-work assignment (I agree, it was a really stupid assignment), so she tried to go behind my back. I stopped her, she was pissed, and ... so we talked to the manager, who was just like "Well, get her to split it with someone."

But that wouldn't have been fair - because the side-work still shouldn't have been done for an hour (it was tea station. I need tea station until the last hour on a Sat.). But second-cut girl was irritable too - I told her to restock the regular coffee and she said, all angrily: "It's obviously full."

"You could fit half a pack in there without over-filling it."

So she turns to B, who is half-asleep next to me because he was working since the morning and asks him if it's full -
He says yes-

She says, "See? He backs me up. Case closed."

And walks away.

And Liz stares and then B goes: "Oh.. oh god, I mean, I didn't know... you were there, or..."

Or WHAT? I wanted to scream. So I just stared at him for a minute before saying, "What ever, Brad, just what the *uck ever."

And then every one starts telling me not to let these people walk over me - and ...

What am I supposed to do? The managers give two sh*ts about the lack of teamwork, as long as the work gets done. If they don't do it, checker has to do it.

And I can't yell at them. I can't get snide. For one, every one except Liz and a few others are one big pot-smoking team that just wants to get off to go smoke it up and get drunk together so they all back each other up.

...I've never been able to stand up for myself. I was picked on miserably in middle school, in hordes, and it just about did my self-esteem in. If I hadn't gone to such a good high school, I really wonder how... I don't know. I know I'm 21 and these things should be past me now, but in middle school most all of my friends turned their back on me - just because I loved to read and game. I was different, and I wasn't pretty. I was awkward and couldn't dress well.

Moving changed things for me, but every time people start teaming up against me, I can't help but grit my teeth and go,

"Fine. I'll do it." Because anything.

Anything.

Is better than crying.

So, at 12:00 am, we were finally leaving. Yeah, 12:00. And I go to my manager and ask if she wants to check me out, and she says no, and that I was fine. But I know I wasn't. So she asked how it went....

And I wanted to scream.

But I just shook my head, and asked, "Why? Why start me on a Saturday of all times? It was SO hard."

And she replied, "Hard? How was it hard? Was it your tables or being checker?"

"Both! Combined!!"

And FINALLY she looks sheepish and goes:

"Well, I actually didn't expect it to be this busy tonight... I thought I'd be able to cut the floor faster, that I could run it with two people- got crazier than I thought... so... it's partly on me."

So I just... I had no more to say.

But while I was stocking the preserves, the grill cook, (we'll call him- ) M, came over (I'm friends with the grillcooks. And the dish guys. And the prep folk. But... why can't I get along with the other servers?), looking tired, and asked,

"What's wrong, Captain Haleigh?"(That's what he calls me. The morning grillcook Pete calls me "Diablo" or "Gorgeous". I'm... not quite sure how I get the nicknames)

And I just shook my head and said, "I let them walk all over me tonight."

And he replied, "You sure did. I hate to be honest, but - you did."

"I didn't want to yell at them..."

"You don't have to. You just... have to let them know the importance of it."

But I... you know. They've been here... for years now. They know the importance of it. They know that if they don't do their work, I'll be here 'til 12:00 AM.

I wish I weren't so scared of everything. I hate this part of me. I hate it so much. I'm sick of not being able to rescue myself. ]]> a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8089-In-the-Game-of-Survival-of-the-Fittest-I-am-pwned Ponderous Ponderings Of Things and A Boy That Happened Long Ago https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8083-Ponderous-Ponderings-Of-Things-and-A-Boy-That-Happened-Long-Ago Fri, 24 Apr 2009 08:48:51 GMT It's not a poem, really, just something I wrote because ... I confuse myself, and I'm so sorry I hurt him, and I hope that it's ok that we're friends and this wasn't a bad choice. I don't date for many reasons, and one of this is because I'm so... weirded out by how lost I get when I'm with someone -- lost, that is, in an Alice in Wonderland way, like this:

What am I doing here? Why am I having a tea party with crazy people and enjoying it? Is that mouse singing? I like this - I'm terrified. Don't cry, poor turtle. I want to go home. I want my cat, and my sister, and I'm late for life as it is. Don't hate me because I want some things in my life, at least, to make sense.

Ooii, it's late, so I wrote this. Yeah.



Laughing, dancing by,
Chattering and twittering-
All things past us, all things pass…
You grin and smile in return –
Oh, you and your bipolar self
Reaching blindly into a broken world
With blank dreams, boring ideas,
And a bent sense of humor -
Well, sometimes boring ideas,
Sometimes brilliant,
Or are they? Or am I just bored?
Or brainless when it comes
To some ideas?
We’re both mad hatters mainly,
Generally confused,
Generally lost,
Generally –
Oh, just pass the tea, god d*mnit.
Still, we laugh,
And I talktalktalk
Then you
Talktalktalk
“And I said-“
“And she should-“
And we had
Something.

I’m not sure quite what the ‘something’ was –
it flickers like a foggy recurring dream that I always forget until I have it again- and then only pieces remain, and I’m not sure which parts are made up and which parts are dreamed up and which parts are even pieces of the original and not the new one, and in the dream you tackle me down, but it’s an old dream, and that’s an old us, and this new us –
I wanted this, you wanted that, or did you want me too? Or did I want you, and was I scared, or did I do the right thing because of you and your blank dreams, and your butt glued to the chair, eyes on the screen, and me with my dancing feet and wanderlust, and you with your lust, and us with our madness-

We’re laughing,
And laughing,
And I’ve forgotten by now half of what I said before,
Though you remember everything-
“It was a year ago,
He can’t let go. Or has he?
Or will he never forgive me?
And should I be forgiven?
Father Zossima says-
Father Zossima isn’t here-
He never was.”
He’s laughing and laughing and,
I say,
“I love Steve Conte-”
“No sh*t! Guess what your ringtone is?”
And,
“Oh god, I love this song!
Hey-
That’s
Morbidly funny.”
“Yeah.”
The song ends, and I’m still humming
To violins,
When you say,
“Goodnight”
And I swivel in my chair –
Humming and smiling
Consciously oblivious
To your hurried leaving,
Because I don’t exactly want to think about why
It’s hurried.
It’s been a year, after all.

And Steve sings
The last verse,
That I had forgotten.


“You in

my life

It all meant so much more

to be.”


I’m no longer laughing.

I should like to say that sometimes I wonder if the reason
Why I always fail when
Turning
Me, myself, and I
Into an “Us”
With you, or the next,
Is because I don’t know if we’re ‘us’ because of
How I’m loved or
Who I’m loved by –
And I confuse myself more when I ask myself if we’re ‘us’ because
I like him
I’m laughing
I need him
Or
I love him?
Or …
Just want to love.

…


"And there’s no reply." ]]> a_little_wisp https://www.online-literature.com/forums/entry.php?8083-Ponderous-Ponderings-Of-Things-and-A-Boy-That-Happened-Long-Ago