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He laid six of them in a straight line on the glass table. Red. Blue. Brown. Yellow. Orange. Orange. He touched each of them with his right index finger. Red. Blue. Brown. Yellow. Orange. Orange. He was missing Green. More than Red, Blue, Brown, Yellow, Orange, and Orange, he wanted Green.
"Lola, did you eat my Green?"
She didn't respond. She only sighed and tossed another Fun Sized bag on the table.
"Lola, I'm missing Green."
He touched each of them with his thumb. Red. Blue. Brown. Yellow. Orange. Orange.
He smiled. The insides of his lips were bright green.
I'm so brave at night. I let myself feel however I need to feel, and I tell myself that it's fine, and that I don't care what people think as long as I can be true, and free, and me, me, me.
I don't feel all right until I'm made up. I straighten the waves out of my hair and cover the blemishes on my face with layers of powder. I line and shadow and curl and blush until I recognize the face in the mirror and don't mind as much saying that I feel more like me, me, me.
The dog started barking at four in the morning. I lay in bed, willing it to stop.
If it barks one more time, I'm going downstairs.
It was quiet for a moment, and then it barked again.
I stumbled down the stairs in the dark, careful not to trip over the laundry basket I left there earlier.
I'll get to that later.
I opened the back door, and the dog ran up to sniff my knees. Its tail wagged. I touched its cold nose with my fingertips.
And he did. So I went back to sleep.
"Nathan, are you a good liar?"
"A skillful one? Or one who lies for peace and justice and crap like that?"
"A skillful one." She sounded upset. "You knew what I meant."
She was right. I knew what she meant.
"You just wanted to sound smart, didn't you? You wanted to show me what you thought I wouldn't have noticed earlier."
I didn't know what to say.
"Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think you're so much smarter than me?"
She was brilliant.
"Did you think it would be funny? Ha. Ha. Now
In her own way.
Today, I sent an email to Steamed Dumpling. I hate telling people that I like their writing, so I only say it to people I know I'll never meet. I also hate girls who write well and know it.
Once, I received a letter from an anonymous neighbor who was upset about my cat pooping in his yard. I knew my cat was wrong, but I was angry, so I edited the letter.
Bad grammar. Horrible punctuation.
I thought very highly of myself when I was done and the page was filled with red marks, so I threw it away.
I can't concentrate when the radio is on.
I slept in Daniel's car this morning. It may or may not have lasted ninety minutes. Ashley stopped by and wanted to practice driving manually. She drove to the fourth floor of the parking structure where Mufi Hannemann and my eighth grade teacher were planting grass in the cement. My uncle and his friend were installing an AC, and I pretended to be asleep when Kelly from fourth grade saw me and waved. Someone tried to take my picture, but he was distracted by the loud noise that woke me up again.
I want to write something wonderful, but I'm just too tired.
When I'm at home with nothing to do, I think of how that would change if I had a job. After entertaining the idea of employment, I go back to thinking about absolutely nothing.
But that is a lie.
If I'm not thinking of what I should write next, I'm
I'm sitting in a room with six people I know and four I don't. And I'm very quiet and very still, because if I don't move, they won't notice how I haven't said anything either.
100 words about knitting
knit two, purl two.
knit two, purl two.
under, under. over, over.
under, under. over, over.
my mother says to count to ten.
buckle my shoe.
shut the door.
pick up sticks.
don't be late.
i like cake.
why do christians have to wait?
to tell their mate,
"you no longer have to shake and bake."
down, down. up, up.
knit two, purl two.
knit two, purl two.
“Of all these, I like February 2006 best… But I don’t even like it that much.”
“It’s just the month that sucks the least.”
“You’re always your own worst critic.”
“I just hate reading the others.”
“You really can’t be the judge here.”’
“February 2006 was the only month out of these four that I didn’t have a boyfriend.”
“I hate reading about them.”
“So, you write better when you’re single?”
“I just don’t like them anymore.”
“They were stupid. I was so stupid, too.”
Then I took a bite out of my very garlicky pizza.
He asked what I thought of the new Miley Cyrus song.
I said I liked it because it was Miley, but I generally dislike songs with "USA" in the title. Then I went along with his small talk, but revealed nothing.
Suddenly, my Live News Feed erupted with distress from my Facebook friends. Apparently, aliens had invaded Kaimuki and were headed east. Everyone feared for their lives. Some said their goodbyes and others vowed to go down fighting.
Upon reading this, I told him I forgave him, but I
resent him for always giving me the smashed burger buns.
The dog is staring at me. It's getting creepy. He's just sitting there. Staring.
If he's trying to tell me something, he is not doing a very good job. He could speak if he wanted to, I think. Hand/paw gestures would be useful, too.
What is it, Bailey?
Oh, he lay down. He has a disapproving look in his eye, now, but no answers.
I hope he's not doing that you-know-what-you've-done-wrong-so-just-admit-it thing, because I have nothing to confess, so he can sit and stare all night, for all I care.
When I was in fifth grade, a girl I knew fell on the monkey bars and hurt her
She was absent from school for a week, and everyone was talking about it. When she came back, I couldn't make eye contact with her. If she knew everyone knew, she pretended that she didn't. No one talked about it after that, so I assumed they all forgot.
I never forgot. For the rest of the year, I was suspicious of my classmates and thought often of all the things they may have said about me behind my back.
She yawned and smiled. "Is it morning? If it's morning, then I'll go. Is that the light from the sun or the moon? I don't know how much time has passed, but I think it's morning, and I have to go. I'll make some coffee before I leave. Enough for the both of us. If I slept at all last night, I dreamt about that. Making coffee. I didn't know how you liked it, so I put more cream than sugar. Is that how you like it? Once, I dreamt about chantilly, and I didn't even know what it was."
He stood in the mirror, scrutinizing his reflection. His nose was too pointy, his chin was too round, his lips were too thin, and his forehead was too big.
He squinted and took a step back to see if distance made a difference.
His hair was too stringy, his neck was too long, and his arms were too thin.
He closed his eyes in disappointment and shook the image from his mind. In the darkness, he attempted to create his perfect self. From the dust rose a shining figure. He wore a leather jacket and looked exactly like Zac Efron.
It started in my fingers and settled in my knees. When the music began, it went straight to my stomach. Then, somehow, it was more than just music.
That's the word that came to mind first.
I closed my eyes while the band played, and let the steady hollow thump of the bass set the pace for my heart. I sang the words to every song out loud and felt closer to God than I ever had at church. The lights, the piano, and the open night sky made my world, for a few hours, just right.
i dont know anything about him. all i know is that he is cute, and he smiled at me. i think i will try to talk to him at recess tomorrow. and if he doesnt want to talk to me, i'm going to pretend that i thought he was someone else or something. i dont know all the details yet, but i am going to figure it out tonight. i will call you, okay? just let me know what time your mom says you can use the phone, because i dont want you to get in trouble like last time.
p.s. do you think his ears are too big? if he liked me too, do you think we would make a good couple?
p.p.s. i am writing this a little bit later, and i just wanted to tell you that at lunch today,
he touched my arm!
but not on purpose. i was running from the classroom with my pepperoni pizza hot pocket, which is super good by the way, and i accidentally ran right into him! he touched my arm and said, "sorry." i can't believe it! okay, i am going to go kiss it now.
I'm frustrated, because I lost over $2000 in fake money. I hate that people are going to see that and know that I failed.
HA HA HA
It's just a silly game.
That's why I should
I need to go to sleep. I need to listen to something calming and remember all the good things about today. Like when we were in his car earlier, and I was nervous about
for a job.
HA HA HA
But he offered to pray for me. He hadn't done that in a while. I realized it was exactly what I needed.
It is 3am, and I pass an empty parking lot. Normally, I'm okay with this kind of thing. But not tonight. It's just sitting there, being ominous and still.
"Don't follow me,"
I tell it.
But it doesn't respond. I keep walking. Farther. Faster. I turn back to look at it, and I'm not surprised that it hasn't moved. I'll get home, lock the door, and climb into bed, safe and sound. That empty parking lot will still be sitting there, ominous and still. But when I close my eyes, I will see it. And it will haunt me tonight.
Conversation With A Cockroach
"Is this weird?"
"Who are you? And what are you doing here?"
"As long as you are standing here, I will continue to speak. Just don't jump up or fly at me."
"Listen, there are too many of you folks here. I give you food, water, and lodging for free, but I'm starting to think I'm being taken advantage of."
"I'll let you leave here safely if you go home and tell some of your friends to take their businesses elsewhere. Good deal, right?"
"Now, go. I don't want anyone to see us talking."
My arm is twitching. I'm wearing a purple shirt and purple nail polish, and my arm is twitching. I'm sitting on the couch with a lime green laptop, watching Hannah Montana, and typing my 100 words for the day.
Mom gave me ten dollars to give to Danny. He is coming home with Diet Coke, root beer, and SPAM. In two hours, I'll give him the money and a hug, and I'll tell him thanks.
My arm stopped twitching. I drank some water, and Hannah Montana ended. I'm watching Sonny With A Chance, now. My arm is twitching again. Why?
I always have dreams where I want to photograph the Thing that is going to end the world.
Once, it was a spherical gray blob covered in spikes. It was massive, spinning in a valley somewhere in Japan, and from a mountaintop where I planned to buy more stationary, I steadied my camera for several more clicks.
Most recently, it was our sun eclipsed by a giant red moon. Plasma and fire rained on my neighborhood, and I stood in the street dodging death when I had to, but being frustrated by the slow shutter speed of my camera phone.
Everything I write is stupid!
I've lost count of the number of times I've deleted this entry and started over. I've decided not to care. Whatever I write from now on is not going to be deleted. Starting from now. I am not going to press the delete key. None of this is going to make sense. If I make a mistake, I'm leaving it. I hate how I can see little dots around the 100words image, like it's been saved as a JPEG in Paint. I do that, too, but that does not make it right! I'm thirstyyyy.
If I didn't have to go back tomorrow, this would feel good.
I started work today at the second real job of my life. Real. Ish.
It was cold. There were no chairs.
So many people I meet know her.
My feet hurt. I could probably fall asleep before midnight.
Two more days, and I won't have a job anymore. It's a holiday gig. Come Christmastime, I might be back. Money is money.
I like to think I just need enough to survive. But having more is comfortable. Maybe it'll be my thing. Maybe this is how people become happy.
this is a list of some of my favorite words and/or ideas:
this is a list of some of my least favorite words and/or ideas:
causal (no, i don't mean "casual")
these are some of my favorite lines in songs:
picture, you're the queen of everything
it just goes to show, you need me less than i need you
in vain, i blame my trembling on the cold air
From its beginning in 2009,
had dreams of being a company noted for its art and originality. Its founders toyed with several ideas that might exhibit such artistry, but could not settle on one without deep remorse for abandoning the others. With the strongest passions for both food and fashion, they knew there were only two routes to take.
So, they did.
In the spring of 2010,
will release its first line of edible clothing and wearable food. Ladies and gentlemen of all ages can share and experience what we here at
have striven to make possible.
Questions for the Reader
From the first to the twenty-sixth, which entry is your favorite, and why?
Which is your least favorite, and why?
If the author's words could have been yours, which entry would you choose for it to be?
After reading the twenty-eighth entry through the thirtieth, which one would you say was most enjoyable?
Which was most painful?
What five adjectives would you use to describe the author's entries in November2009?
Please rank them in order of preference.
Thank you for completing this survey.
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I quit the Internet for a week, and I didn't intend to fall behind with my 100words, but I did. It's okay, though. The main idea was to give Facebook a rest, and I succeeded. I don't need it as badly as I thought I did a week ago, and I feel really good about that.
I've been looking for things to do to keep busy. I did not participate in the madness of the ominously-named Black Friday, but I will start my Christmas shopping today. These are the times I wish I had a just few extra dollars.
Sometimes, I eat fast and pretend that I am a
. I think that it is how I would eat if I had tapeworms. But, Rougarous have an intense hunger that can never really be satisfied by normal food. They'll eat, and eat, and consume all the contents of their refrigerators, but they'll soon realize that what they really crave is human flesh. It takes all their strength not to devour their loved ones, and families are torn apart. Like a vampire, after their first taste, they can't turn back. Once you go dark side, you're a monster for life.
I wish that you would call again.
It's been three months since you were here, and all I have left is your voice on the answering machine:
Going out of town. Lock the doors.
You left your house key on the bureau, so I can't lock the doors. Come back. Take your key, and then I'll lock them.
My birthday is coming up. You said you'd drive me to New York City. You said I deserved to leave this town and see the city lights.
But, Baby, I can't do it without you. I wish you weren't so damned forgetful.
The Tip Jar