I feel bad because I haven't been too inspired to write anything lately. My stories remain discontinued, I haven't started any new poems yet... it's kinda sad. I think that once you write a sonnet, your poetic license just goes "Well, I'm done - there's no other challenge for you to take on in this category." Unless I tried writing an epic, but since I take AP Latin and struggle just to understand why Vergil had to go and write a hulking story like the Aeneid in the first place, I think I would surely go mad after trying to write the first few pages of an epic.

I didn't dare try the NaNoWriMo competition this year because I knew I'd never work on it before the deadline. As for my other stories, well... I can honestly say that I've hit the biggest writer's blockade I've ever had. I can only write slashes. For those of you that don't know, slashes are boy and boy (or girl and girl) romances... gay love stories. I'm not even sure how I got into writing them - I think it was because all of my favorite online stories were slashes so I wanted to try writing them too, and I'm too bad at them, but it's such a slump that it's all I can write now. Also, I've encountered one of my smaller writer's blocks where I'm so stuck for a reason to continue a story that I just randomly decide to send them to a party to stir things up. I mean, it helps me get unslumped, but it's like taking the easy way out, which I hate.

I have another newspaper article assignment - I get to write about zombies :) That makes me happy because I, personally, find zombies to be cool and they are very popular nowadays. The angle for my article is supposed to be how zombies are becoming the new vampire fad. Now I just have to figure out how to logically defend my beloved corpses without turning into a total fangirl and an anti-Twilight fanatic. (I don't hate Twilight, I just can't get excited about it like every other female of my generation).

I'm not even sure what poetic challenge I should take on next with this, but my friend said "Rule of thumb; boys are dumb". No offense to any boys out there, but I liked the way it sounds, and it rhymes, so I might try to make it into a song or something.

I hate limericks. Just throwing that out there. They are stupid and crude. I wrote a limerick about how I hate limericks, but it's in my journal somewhere, so I might post it on here eventually. I also dislike haikus, but only because they can be so simple and yet so difficult at the same time... like microwavable frozen food directions.

Right now, I got another novel idea stuck in my head with no real direction for it - I just know I would love to see it on a bookshelf one day. When I can polish out a description of it, I'll get to work on it. For now, I'm going to tackle my slash stories one more time before trying to start on my article.

And I'm very sick and tired and hungry right now, but I never listen to my brain when it's telling me to do smart, necessary things.

Italian Sonnet 1 (my attempt at an Italian/Petrarchan style sonnet)

a   Please grace me with your fondest memory
b   Don't let it get distorted as you sing
b   A thought that wraps you up, a tender thing
a   And kisses you with warmth - how you should me
a   Share with me what terrors plague your poor head
b   Make me weep with what sorrows torture you
b   Smother me with the pain that brings you blues
a   So that your woes will bother me instead
c   The things I know about you show much growth
d   But I fear you won't keep pushing forward
e   The problems weighing down on you are strong
c   I swear I'll bring happiness to us both
d   What gives me power are your sad, sad words
e   Trust me - your problems won't stay very long

*IT WAS SO HARD TO WRITE THE LAST SIX LINES, mostly because Italian sonnet rhyme scheme has like, eight possible end rhyme schemes. I tried to do it according to the notes we took in Creative Writing - cdc dcd or cde edc... I think. I'm not sure I wrote it down correctly, but on Monday I will show her and ask her opinion.

*Also, I might have written this for someone, but I'm really unsure if my feelings are romantic or so friendly that I'm in the "I'll do anything to help my friends, even risk my safety" stage for this friendship. I was inspired by this techno song "Britney Spears & Louis La Roche - Inside Out (Bugzz French House Mix)" to write this poem.

Whichever One Does The Thinking

Recently, I had a dream about a guy friend where we he hesitated, then kissed me, then I ran away. (I had a dream just like this in seventh grade with another guy I barely talked to, and later on I ended up getting a crush after having my dream). My friend says I'm confused about my feelings for him. The day before, I was muttering about how everyone I know was in a relationship or setting dates for prom (I know it's freaking early for that), and I was feeling lonely, so my friend suggested I ask him to prom. He didn't say anything, but my friend says that I asked him a manner where it was unclear if I was serious, and apparently I speak like this all the time.

I didn't realize I always spoke in a seemingly joking manner. This frustrates me. Maybe that's why nobody takes me seriously.

I don't think I really have feeling for him, I just think he's an extremely nice guy and a good friend, so I thought he'd be a good guy to go to prom with. But now my brain (or my heart, whichever does the thinking) is trying to confuse me.

'Ask him on a date!' my heart says. I don't want to do that - I've never been on a date before, and I'd rather not waste my first date on someone I believe I have no real feelings for.

'Ignore it before you get a crush on him that isn't a real crush at all.' You have a good point, brain. Often I get a crush on someone just because one of their qualities intrigues me, and soon get over said crush. It's probably just a phase.

'Shut up and go to bed.' My brain replies. Hmph. Well then, I will.

Me, That's All I'll Ever Be

I've just come to the realization that I might have been bisexual a lot longer than I thought. See, I was just reminiscing about all the best friends I've had over the years, a majority of them being females. I believe a lot of my best friends stopped being my friends because they thought I was clingy and too unstable for them, as two of my friends have actually said to my face.

I know I've fallen for my best guy friend before, and one of my best guy friends fell for me, but the more I think about it, I really was only into them because I grew so dependent on them as friends that my feelings became warped. When I stopped being friends with them, I saw nothing that attracted me to them any more than I was attracted to my other friends, like how they made me laugh. Making me laugh is just about my only requirement for liking someone, which is bad because lots of people can make me laugh, but not everyone is nice or compatible.

But anyway, with my female friends, they were usually the only friend I had at the time, so yes, I could see how I came off as clingy. But in some instances, I wasn't very close to my friends, like Paisley and my cousin - we weren't that close and honestly had little in common with each other. I believe they were my best friends because I had no other friends - no offense to them, but that's how it happened, so when we stopped talking to each other, it was just a clean break. However with my friends like Joelle and Kimberly, I loved being friends with them. I loved hanging out with them, meeting the other friends they had, going places with them, and talking about unimportant things. When I was friends with them, we were inseparable - it was always Joelle and Jerica or me and Kimberly - so breaking apart now still hurts. It's like being in a relationship with someone that you are so in love with, but then they want to break up, and you feel like you've been hit with a train because you never saw it coming. Being drowned in your own feelings means you can't see how everyone else is feeling, and often I've been like that. Joelle and Kimberly and Henri wanted nothing more to do with me because I was clingy or immature - their words, not mine.

I never thought I had any romantic feelings for my female friends of course, because I never even imagined being so close to a female friend, let alone being in a relationship with one. I knew I didn't get along with most girls because I'm so different for some reason. Not exactly a tomboy, but something of that nature. However, I had a need to be with my friend, talking to them and hanging out with them. If I was unsure about something, they were the ones I turned to to make sure it was okay. I checked with them first to make sure that liking a certain guy or a certain thing was okay. I let them control me, and I was perfectly happy with that. As unstable as I am now, I know that I've relied on the structure that female friends gave me. It was a relationship with no love, but much admiration. It was somewhat unhealthy, and the dynamic of them wearing the pants was obvious. I think it adds to why I am so compliant in my relationships - why I never speak up when something is wrong, because seriously, with every person I've ever been close to, my personal opinion had little value and was often ignored.

I try not to say that I resent anyone that's come into my life, but I still can't think of Joelle or Henri or Kimberly (and her boyfriend) or Paisley without a scowl forming on my face and some choice words coming to mind. It isn't enough to unfriend them and remove everything reminiscent of them from my life - they are still there in my memories, and the way things ended really bothers me.

Jerica: Hey, Briana, can you ask Joelle if we're still friends.
Briana: She says you guys are still friends, but not as much as you were.

Henri: You're too clingy.

Kimberly: (summarizing) You're immature.

Josh (Kim's boyfriend): It's either her, or me.

So yeah, maybe I've been bisexual for a long time now, or maybe I'm an extremely confusing pansexual, or maybe I'm just me.

Yep, that's all I'll ever be, anyway.

My Wedding Ring (an attempt at a villanelle poem)

Just because it is a ring
does not mean it belongs on my hand
you may say it’s a silly thing

to have the metal tabs cling
on your fingers from pop cans
because the skin is cut by that thing

and maybe those flower butter cookies sing
when on your taste buds they land
but on my fingers, I love wearing those things

they are less sticky than those pops of ring
and besides, I don’t need those ginormous and
pricey rocks on my ring

to me, love does not equal bling
it’s not labeled under some expensive brand
and doesn’t come wrapped in those little blue box things

in order to make my heart sing
all I need is a simple wedding band
your love will be a shining ring
a diamond of it’s own, around my heart lies that thing

The Puzzle Pieces of My Brother's Being (a poem, in dedication to one of two of my autistic brothers, Julian)

It hasn’t been until a few years back that I began to notice your hands.
They are always warm, soft, and oddly wrinkled for a nineteen year old.
Claw-like and dangerous, I hold them,
trying to find the gentle beast inside you.

You raise my hands to your face and hold them there,
your face just as soft as your hands.
Your pudgy cheeks act as barriers to your brain
yet still we communicate by interactions.

You take me on more journeys than our car does.
My feet follow after you through hell and high water
as my heart thuds in my ears
just a little louder than your laughter.

Before I go, I would like to know what makes you tick-
why your hands seem more knowledgeable than any elders
and why our journeys always leave me in despair.
I don’t think I can be your traveling companion anymore.

You look at me as if you understand everything I say to you.
Maybe you do, but I cannot know for sure
for your babbles and giggles and mutterings and screeches
leave me as confounded as your inner workings do.

Growing Up

I don't feel like Cinderella.
I feel like a miniscule, melancholic mouse.

I'm nowhere near as fair as Snow White,
but every bit as awkward as every single dwarf.

I am nothing like Belle,
but more like a brutish, misunderstood Beast.

If only I had the beauty of that sleeping maiden, Aurora.

Do not call me Tiana, because I am just a lowly, slimy frog.

I am not fierce and brave like Mulan
Or seductive and clever like Jasmine.

My curiousity just might kill me - I won't be as lucky as Ariel.

I am easily corrupted like poor Meg, only I have no one to show me the light.

I am not adventurous and wise like Pocahontas.

And oh, what I wouldn't give to be as happily naive and lovable as dear Rapunzel.

No, I fear I am not graced with such luck and faith and care.
I know my "happily ever after" will never even become a "once upon a time".

ESSAY #4

The University of Colorado Boulder's Flagship 2030 strategic plan promotes exceptional teaching, research, scholarship, creative works, and service distinguishing us as a premier university. We strive to foster a diverse and inclusive community for all that engages each member in opportunities for academic excellence, leadership, and a deeper understanding of the world in which we live. Given the statement above, how do you think you could enrich our diverse and inclusive community and what are your hopes for your college experience?

With three AP classes, a job, after-school clubs, a dysfunctional family, financial issues, and of course, college applications, it’s easy to say that my life is full of stress right now.

In seventh grade, my life began to go downhill. In a new school with no friends, and having a judgmental mother, my grades dropped as well as my self-esteem. I couldn’t handle the stress alone. I never asked for help with my depression, but over time, my feelings of self-hate got worse.

My senior year has been the hardest for me. I’ve had the urge to harm myself, and even kill myself. I knew I had to get help soon, but I didn’t have the courage to talk to anyone but my closest friends. Turns out, that was all I needed.

After getting in a major fight with my mother, I sent a text to my three best friends letting them know I was tired of everything and just wanted to take a break. I said “I appreciate the help, but I just can’t make anyone happy. I might leave for a day of more - I don’t want to go2 school 2morrow.” I instantly got a call from my friend Brandon, and he stayed on the phone with me for over an hour, and we just talked and cried together. At school the next day, my other two friends comforted me and urged me to talk to one of the school counselors. I really didn’t want to, but I didn’t want to deal with feeling horrible anymore, so I talked to the counselor. That led to talking to the teachers I felt comfortable with, and letting a few of my other friends know what I was going through, and finally posting on my blog how I was feeling. One of my alternate teachers even tries to comment on every post I make. Discovering how big my support system was, really gave me the strength to keep pushing forward.

On days where I was feeling better, I really noticed how some of my friends were upset too. I had no problem talking to them - sharing my own problems was hard, but I’ve always wanted to help people. I know that I couldn’t make their problems go away, but as a writer and someone who’s received so much advice, I know how powerful words can be. That is why I want to use my skills in writing and graphic design to spread messages to the world, raise awareness, and give attention to the underdogs, so that those who truly deserve to be helped but can’t find it on their own can be helped. I’ve been suffering in silence for six years, and if it weren’t for my support system, I might not have made it. So, I plan to make my dream campaign, S.O.S. - Stop Our Suffering, a reality.

ESSAY #3

Imagine you have graduated from Temple University. You are preparing to attend your 10-year reunion, and the alumni office has asked you to write a one-page essay about your personal and professional accomplishments since graduation. What would yours say? OR Please tell us more about yourself. Relate one or more experiences or circumstances that have contributed to your personal and/or academic development. If you have been out of school for a year or longer, please discuss your activities during that period of time.

I’ve always taken the unexpected roads in life, surprising even myself with what I plan to do and what I accomplish. I guess I always knew my imagination would take me places. I mean, I never actually got to be a Powerpuff Girl, but it was definitely my first career goal when I was younger. I think I’ve still stuck with that general them though - wanting to help people and save the world, and also entertain people and make them happy. When I decided that I wanted to go into advertising, and dabble in writing and journalism, I realized it was a choice that I was meant to take.

My interests in high school really started me on my path - my and my fellow outcasts in my school’s Anime Club helped me realize that I wanted to help spread the word about the underdogs of the world, and did so through graphic design and advertising. The drama that me and my friends faced in everyday life made me want to help people who usually suffered in silence, either because no one would listen or they just couldn’t get the help they needed. Working at The Mash, a teen newspaper, I enjoyed presenting unusual article ideas, like the popularity of techno music and how cartoons today aren’t as entertaining or educational as the ones of yesteryear, but I was also eager to write about news that impacted teenagers like cyber-bullying and self-esteem issues. Even though I was used to writing in my blog about the difficulties I faced in my life, such as dealing with two autistic brothers and my own self-esteem issues, I felt even better when I got to help others in unique ways.

After receiving my B.A. in advertising, I was able to create new things and promote businesses and organizations that might otherwise go unnoticed. I’ve felt invisible and unimportant most of my life, but when I advertise, she feel like I’m giving a bigger voice to people like me, and showing people what I can create. I worked at an advertising firm for a while before deciding that I still wanted to take on the entrepreneurial ideas I had set aside after high school.

I had always wanted to work for Seventeen Magazine. They were different from other magazines that some teens read because they addressed the average teen and the not-so-average teen. Every issue did a story on a girl who had experienced a life-changing and self-empowering moment, offered advice for major problems teens faced like self-esteem issues and relationships, recommended healthy life choices, and gave tips on how a girl can feel good about herself just by changing her wardrobe a little bit. Seventeen Magazine featured the type of girls you saw walking in your school halls, not walking down the runway, yet they still appealed to every type of girl out there. I’m proud that I’ve climbed up from working on copywriting, designing, and advertising to becoming the magazine’s creative director.

Eventually, I decided that I wanted to create my own magazine, about nothing in particular. I recruited my best friends and we really just had fun setting it up, writing article about news that drifted to us, promoting local businesses and organizations, publishing our literary works such as short stories and poetry or pictures of our artwork, and basically filling the pages with whatever we pleased. When we noticed some people were actually paying attention to what we wrote, we decided to refine the magazine, calling it The Underdog. We highlighted the stories that most people didn’t read about, researching interesting topics that no one else thought of writing about, and addressing problems - widely known or not - that needed more support to solve them. We employed more workers, promoted the magazine, and now, it is still growing more and more famous.

The world of journalism, however, isn’t always my favorite place to be. I was, of course, an advertising major. I prefer creativity and color, detail and words. In my free time, I continue writing stories, poems, and whatever flows from my brain to my blog. I love writing, but I hardly ever share what I write with people I know. My friends are still bugging me to write a book. Ever since I was in seventh grade, I’ve come up with novel idea after novel idea. I first started really writing in seventh grade, starting a story about my life and my thoughts called “Apathetic Girl”, when my English teacher scolded me for my apathy in her class. My mother insists that I write a book about my journey with my Autistic brothers, but I keep telling her there isn’t enough paper in the world to tell that story. Sometimes I have fictional story ideas that I think are so good, they deserve to be a novel. So maybe I will actually try to get my stories published. I do, after all, still have a lot to say.

I still like to do graphic design, sometimes sharing my brand ideas with companies and earning some extra money, but mostly designing for artistic purposes rather than profit.

It’s always appealed to my inner romantic and outer story writer to want to become a wedding planner. I couldn’t do it full-time, but I might consider it part-time, even though it was entirely difficult and time consuming. Setting up weddings in a way that makes a magical feeling engulf couples and make their day even more special, adding a happy moment onto their life story, would fill me with an even bigger sense of pride and joy.

Eventually, the stress of wedding planning and dealing with couples would get to be a little too much for me, so I’d probably set aside my part-time business and decide to focus on the magazine.

Right now, journalism, graphic design, and social networking interest me in the way of publicity, but I’m always open to creative new challenges.