Kingdom Management | Quick Piece Breakdown

Kingdom Management

Hello and welcome again! Two weeks in a row, can I get a gold star?

This story is another attempt in the “stream of consciousness” style that was showcased in “Catcher in the Rye”. But based on the reception I got on this piece, it doesn’t seem to suit my style. Let me know truthfully what I thought of the piece, so I can either improve it or stop being lazy with my writing and hone in my style more.

Kingdom Management is just a Queen complaining about her duties. I’ve already read fantasy novels where the Queen is a woman with duties, high in power, and is proud of what she does. What if I wrote a story that’s the opposite of that trope? Not exactly someone who is lazy, but someone who begrudgingly does the work because deep inside she knows her kingdom needs her, but the work isn’t fun at all. The King isn’t supporting her, so it becomes even more of a burden.

Although with how this story went especially in a short story manner, there wasn’t enough context to set up this begrudged Queen, why the King was being such a jerk, or even what her kingdom was. I quickly established a kingdom and character persona too fast all the while you’re trying to catch up with what the heck is happening in the story.

Lesson learned – onwards & upwards!

Thanks for reading!

Alice

 

Bar Fight | Quick Piece Breakdown

Bar Fight

I’m back at it with the stories!

Would you believe it that in all 4 years of my college year, I’ve never set foot in a bar? It was just that I didn’t like the appeal of having to dress up a certain way, drink too much, and be social  even when I was of drinking age. At night, I was just too sleepy and needed my quiet after a long day of classes. Last weekend, I finally went to a bar and it was exactly what I was looking for – a buzzing atmosphere of familiarity. Granted, it was early in the night, so it wasn’t as rowdy yet.

This story focuses on the narrator and two girls, Anna and Susie. The narrator is in a conflict about a fight that happened at a bar a couple hours before while she reflects in the peace of her own home. The narrator impulsively heads back to the bar to fill in memory gaps when she finds herself face to face with the problem again, although Anna reminds her that she was initially the problem.

There’s two lingering themes in this piece – perfection and confrontation. You could also throw in the pairs, fear and calamity as well. Since the narrator was so absorbed with the cause of the bar fight and the mess that it made both physically and emotional, she failed to realize her involvement. At the end, it cost her both her dignity and her white crop top. I intentionally chose a white crop top because of how the color white symbolizes purity. Anna’s white crop top and the narrator’s crop top ended up being tainted by causes of destruction. You can wash out blood and have the crop top look new again, but you can’t always sew up a tear and have it look new again. There’s a “scar” on the shirt.

As for confrontation, the narrator had a brief conversation with the bartender about the fight, but he just mentions how he tends to keep out of things to avoid further problems. This all became contradicted as the narrator found herself being confronted with the underlying problem of the bar fight and refusing the acknowledge it. All along the narrator’s path of escape from confrontation, she ends up causing even more problems, small problems, but still annoying.

This piece focuses more on common human behavior. Trust me, I’m not an alien just observing behavior and writing cryptic stories. 😉 Sometimes issues are too big for us to handle, so we ask for help to avoid it causing further problems. Sometimes we underestimate how big an issue is and neglect to address it until it’s too late and ends up harming ourselves in the process. The lesson is: you can’t always think about yourself because more than you realize, there’s always someone else who’s also being affected.

What are your interpretations of Bar Fight?

Thanks for reading!

Alice

Life Goals | Poetry Breakdown

Hello everyone,

I’m back! Sorry about the long absence – this time I wasn’t really procrastinating my days away. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about my dreams especially now that I’ve graduated. It’s gotten me pretty frustrated, so I wrote a poem.

Life Goals

Momma once said that you can be anything you want
if you put your heart, soul, and mind into it.
I closed my eyes and racked my mind for what I could become.
Birds came into mind – how they fly and soar, freely following
the air currents and swooping in and out.
I thought about the swaying sunflower – how they yearn for the sun
and grow towards their fullest beauty while brightening up
everything they come across.

Grades started piling in and I measured up to a scale.
I was average, shouldn’t I be pleased?
You will only be accepted if you reach above and beyond!
That sounded easy until I felt my smile slip from my face
never to appear again.
Now it felt like I looked upwards and saw a looming shadow
rather looking above and beyond.

Every time I gasped for breath, the minute hand slipped as
I was shoved forward, ruthlessly filled with gritted teeth and clutched fists.
I bubbled every test answer with a force that snapped my pencil,
conducted research with my own adversities
yelling out only to shine behind the research,
participated in discussions only to speak to my past self.

With cap and gown on, I did the thing that was supposed to
get my feet into the door only have it closed
with even more being required, which meant
having to change myself for someone else again
just so I could put food in my belly.
The minute hand slipped once again as I found myself stumbling
towards a path of pain and hurt, a path that I’ve traveled
far too many times.

A bit of a quick update before I do a formal one, but I’ve been in the city for 3 months and already quit two jobs. They weren’t because I wasn’t working hard enough or I was being stubborn, but I’ve encountered a job where it helped me realize it wasn’t something I wanted to do and another job where it was completely toxic. It’s what I had anticipated, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so soon. Nevertheless, job searching has become more of a frustration rather than an accomplishment at this point.

The poem starts with an innocence that you can only get as a child because your dreams haven’t become tainted with reality yet. Everything seems possible. There were plenty of times where I dreamt of being a cloud because of how fluffy they looked and they brought shade and rain when needed. The second stanza quickly puts a damper on the enthusiastic mood and centers itself around academic achievement. It’s always a balance between constant praise for simple achievement and encouragement and making sure the student always challenges themselves. I feel that I could’ve done better with more encouragement rather than all those participation awards.

The third stanza emphasized on timing – how you’ve got to go from high school to completing college in 4 years to possibly pursuing a Master’s degree or higher. There always seems to be an unnecessary timeline for everyone to do things not only for academics, but for general life as well such as how long you should be with someone before you get engaged or how long before you have children? Who’s decision is that to make except yours?

I’ve struggled a lot throughout my school years from low academic achievement to mindlessly completing tasks to satisfying others and not feeling any benefit for my own happiness. And with the final stanza, there’s a heavy resentment tone. I graduated and it still doesn’t seem enough for employers because somehow I need 2-3+ years of experience or the industry has evolved so much while I was in school that I need new skills to “catch up”. But this is all just reality, right? I should’ve picked a profession that I knew wouldn’t shift so drastically or pick a profession that had higher pay and lower turnover rates. Dare I sacrifice my own happiness just so I could put food on the table? It seems like that’s what I have to do.

How come happiness and achievement isn’t contingent with our careers?

It’s a long and hard road, but I’m going to come out strong. I promise you.

Thanks for reading,

Alice

Humidity | Poetry Breakdown

Humidity

I can feel you
all around me.
You place your hand over my mouth and nose,
suffocating me and watching me drown
as you fill the rest of the house
and complete your deed.

You take away my breath.
You make me motionless,
as if that’s what I could settle for
when all I want to do is
run, run, and run some more.

Where did you come from?
You appeared suddenly around the corner,
slipping under doors and cracked windows.
It’s a surprise I never looked forward to,
an invitation you never received,
yet you arrive late and prop your feet up
and linger until you are the last one to leave.

Good thing you only visit during the summer
and are extinguished whenever thunder strikes.
Although you make the summer drag
the summer ends up being filled with countless memories.
Because of you, lemonade tastes sweeter,
the pool water feels alluring,
and a sense of community builds in spite of
escaping from you.

I’ve been living in New York for a majority of my life and it’s an amazing state except for the humidity during the summer. In fact, I can’t stand any humidity. I’ve been to Orlando, Florida and Guangzhou, China and both have worse summer heats and humidity. I can escape those places since I don’t live there, but I can’t escape my place of residence! Last week was dedicated to one of the more revered works of nature while this week is dedicated to one of the more hated works of nature – humidity.

I really wanted to personify humidity. What kind of person would humidity be? Since I don’t really like humidity, I would think of Humidity as a pretty annoying & petty person. They would be the person who finishes the orange juice only to put the empty carton back in the fridge. Or they could be the person who doesn’t flush the toilet after they use it. In the poem, I wrote that they’re the person who shows up to events late, but ends up overstaying their welcome.

I’ve experienced thunderstorms during the winter time, but I’ve only experienced humidity during the summer. And even though it can be pretty miserable most of the time, humidity can make summers a little better because as the saying goes, the bad makes the good even better. Also, blasting the air conditioning becomes more valid when the humidity is really bad.

With that being said, thanks for reading my poem and I hope you enjoyed it! Stay cool, drink lots of water and lemonade, and enjoy your summer!

Alice

Lightning Strikes | Poetry Breakdown

Lightning Strikes

I woke when the lightning flashed,
streaking across the window,
leaving me shocked and exposed.
My heart raced as the rain drummed on,
but my breath started to steady and my eye lids drooped
and I fell back into an oblivion of sleep.

The sleep took me on a path of the Familiar and Disassociated
with feats of dragon fighting and truthful encounters with my subconscious
until I woke again when the light hugged my curtains
and the daylight’s rhythm resumed.

Monotonous steps that I force into color until my feet swell
and my mind becomes a forced act of intellect when all I want
is to indulge, forget, and isolate.

Until I can do it again.

The word again becomes ingrained in my movements
with words like, no consequences making constant appearances
and accompanying the repetitive notions of my life.

Until I’m thrown off course, struck by lightning, harrowed by life’s burdens,
or my loved ones hit fates that are too close, my acts of comfort transform into
acts of caution just so my notions of life
won’t ever be disturbed again.

This poem is about life and how we get caught up in the notions all the time and before we can take the time to appreciate things, it’s already too late.

The first stanza starts off with sleep, which is a necessity. On the surface level, this person got startled by lightning, but you can also look at it that this person was startled out of their normal routine for an instance before going back to what they know. In the second stanza, it’s about dreams and how even in their dreams, there’s an air of familiarity and getting what you want. In reality, you won’t always get what you want. The third stanza is about the routine of work. It’s great if your work is something that brings you happiness, but if work ends up being a routine that is driven by money then what’s the point? I know sometimes what we do for work can’t be helped based on circumstances, although you have the power to make the necessary changes.

The next three stanzas are very critical on routine, specifically monotonous routine where you have all the given opportunities to change it, but you’re just too lazy. If you don’t acknowledge the value that life carries and how you can do anything, then it would almost be a waste. Are you going to let obstacles get in the way of those opportunities or make up excuses of what you cannot do rather than doing what you can? And then something unexpectedly comes around that changes your course, that’s when you start thinking ahead. By then, it’s too late.

Is life just a balancing act between the ebbs and flows of consequences and successes rather than filled with gratitude of the filling air you take, the strength beneath your feet, and the works your hands create?

Like I’ve mentioned before, I just moved to a new city post-grad and I’m in the new chapter of my life where I’m working and solidifying my dreams. For me, it’s been a struggle getting the right foot forward towards my dream. I knew I wanted to pursue writing, but given the skill set I have and the way the industry is shifting, it’s taking me a few extra steps. I’m still writing on this blog and keeping my mind sharp for interesting moments of everyday life to stick into my writing, but one day, I’ll be sipping tea and writing as I look out onto the veranda. 🙂 Who knows, maybe I’ll even have a cafe! 😉

Whatever it is, keep at it and don’t let yourself settle for your happiness.

Thanks for reading!

Alice

Keeping Sanity | Quick Piece Breakdown

Hello everyone,

I hope you’re having a good summer so far!

Keeping Sanity

I live in a city of 8 million people and I see many different kind of people, behaviors, and customs every single day. There’s never a dull moment and since I’m also trying to “make it” as a writer, it’s a wonderful place to get a lot of content. That’s definitely one of the reasons I really wanted to live in the city post-grad. Since I rely on public transportation as my preferred method of travel, I get to experience the city’s movement first hand including the homeless people sleeping on the benches and steps of the train stations. I really wish I could help them in a more impacting way that is more than giving them my pocket change. I actually wrote a post about this conundrum.

There have been two instances where I’ve encountered people, presumably homeless, who were talking to themselves and having good natured conversations. It was always their laughter that catches me off guard. First of all, their situation doesn’t seem very ideal, so how could they laugh so loud? Secondly, how do they keep doing what they do despite eliciting looks? When I notice them, I don’t really question their sanity or situation, it doesn’t actually bother me. I find myself talking to myself a lot because it helps me organize my thoughts. What difference does it make?

Keeping Sanity is a story about a man (I don’t state that he’s homeless, but my imagery makes it clear) who is having a conversation with himself and he’s pretty happy. He becomes more self conscious when the public makes indirect comments that are still clear of what they think about him. I tried to paint the child as innocent as possible because she doesn’t know any better, but it’s her mother who shouldn’t done a better job in being more open-minded. Along comes a businesswoman who’s encountered a slight crisis and is muttering her frustrations to herself, causing the man to be a little self-conscious only to have the woman remind him that it’s perfectly normal because life is tough.

I really wanted this story to have a strong emphasis on humanity and the power it has. It certainly has the power to bring people down. Think about the impacts it can have if you utilize that power to bring people up even those stuck in less than ideal circumstances.

I hope you enjoyed my story & thanks for reading!

Alice

A Cold Night in June | Quick Piece Breakdown

Hello everyone,

It’s been quite a while since I last caught up with you! As you may know, I recently graduated from college and from there, I moved to New York City where I’ve been relaxing and getting tons of writing material before I start work in the Bronx! I’m pretty excited to be living in the city and so far, it’s pretty great. I’m loving all the food!

Now, onto the story!

I wrote this story as a submission to the Duolingo Stories contest. If you don’t know what Duolingo is, Duolingo is a website where you can practice learning a language. They’re very keen on drilling you and making sure you have a good basis within the language. You can start from the beginning and work your way up! I believe my story submission (if chosen), will be translated to help people learning languages learn how to read in their language. The requirements of this story was that it be under 250 words and exciting, so naturally, I gravitated towards fantasy.

This story is about the narrator who saves his city from an unknown danger that turns out to be a child who didn’t know how to control their powers. It also turns out that the narrator has 7-foot wings, which I decided to add because I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be able to fly. Think about how fast you would arrive to places! And I wanted the narrator to not be restricted by anything.

It’s a simple story that has a quick resolution, but I find it pretty comforting. Whenever I’m stuck in a situation, I always envision myself with superpowers like being able to fly, teleport, or even become invisible and for some reason, I feel a little better afterwards. It’s almost like I have to protect my secret stash of superpowers. Regardless, I hope you have that quick thing that helps you jump back to it again.

Thanks for reading!

Alice

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Writer and Reader | Poetry Breakdown

Hello everyone,

I’m back with the poems! I’ve been reading Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur lately and I just love how she can connect with everyone and feel her pain through the simplest words. If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it. Go ahead and support another poet.

Writer and Reader

You are not someone who
extracts each letter from
each word and uses it like a weapon.
You view and you read.
You acknowledge the meaning
and digest it further
before regurgitating an interpretation.

I am the sentence flow dictating
the mood and voice of the author.
I feel and I write.
I dig deep and release my soul
just so critic can tear it open again,
but that’s my craft.

As a writer, you have a tendency to connect with people and I managed to connect with many writers. Whenever I write, I always forget to write for the readers so I just pour out my rawest (and proofread) self and hope that someone understands. Yet if I were to cater towards the readers, I wouldn’t be staying true to myself. It’s a hard balance.

With this poem, I write about two perspectives from the writer to the reader, but it’s still obviously kept in the writer’s perspective because it’s really hard for me to “turn off” without sacrificing the quality of my work. Sometimes I find myself diving into each letter and word and it gets a little excessive. There was a point in time where I worried too much about making sure each character’s name had a significant meaning behind it or that the colors surrounding the scene had to mean something. It took away from the plot and all you could read were a pile of symbols mixed with cryptic dialogue. I guess I fantasized one too many times of an English teacher tearing apart my writing and getting everything I hid in there correct. That’s why all this time, I’ve always said, “I’m taking it back to basics” because I don’t want to detract away from the actual story.

Even though you aren’t are writer (maybe you are) and you find it a little challenging to read some writer’s work, just know that it’s always a work in progress and open to suggestions. As artists, that’s how we evolve with each day and how our art is even going to get better.

I hope you enjoyed my short poem!

Alice

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Magnolia | Quick Piece Breakdown

Hello everyone,

I’m writing this outside, so whoever sent the sun to me – thanks! 😉

Magnolia

This week, I was pretty lost about what to write because of recent events that happened at my University. I’m planning on writing a post about it! The events rang in my head, but I didn’t want to write a piece that circulated around those blaring issues. I wanted to write a piece about hope rising from a place of trouble. I also bought a new hand lotion that said it smelled like magnolias and it smelled wonderful! I’m basically saying that this piece was born out of many inspirations.

This piece is full of “what if”s, a place of uncertainty. What if the narrator never went out drinking with her so-called friends, how would she felt? What if her best friend was no good and wasn’t able to help the narrator? What if the narrator didn’t get caught up in the mess that it seems like she trapped herself in? The narrator is in all of these “what if” scenarios. Everything that could’ve gone wrong did go wrong, but somehow she stops herself from continuing making it worse for herself.

It starts with the narrator reminiscing about a time that was safe, lying with her mom and feeling her mom’s trouble and wondering how she could help. And then, the narrator finds herself in her her place of trouble. I reveal that the narrator has a problem with drinking impulsively after being lured out by her “friends”. There are quotes around “friends” because they aren’t who the narrator would call her friends and that is shown in contrast with her interaction with her best friend.

The narrator is stuck and she’s so ashamed that she couldn’t find herself going out to meet her best friend. She tries to reason with her best friend and put up an entire façade about how she’s feeling, but her best friend sees right through her lies and gets right to work in helping her friend get back together again. And that’s the biggest contrast – between the apparent broken relationship the narrator has with her mother, her “friends” who took her out drinking despite knowing her impulsive behavior and how the narrator treats herself with belittling remarks and expectations that are way too high. Her best friend grounds her and brings her a little glimpse of hope and without even saying “everything is going to be okay”, she shows it.

I didn’t realize it, but magnolia is a flower that is traditionally linked with femininity. Women have an unspoken bond with each other even if there is a slight conflict between them. We have each other’s back. And this rule can definitely apply to the rest of humanity especially with ongoing conflicts just like what had happened at my university. We need the hope, the unspoken hope to reassure us and remind us that not everything is dark and painful and we can regain our steps again.

Thanks for reading my piece & I hope you liked it!

Alice

Good-Night | Quick Piece Breakdown

Hello everyone,

I hope you’re having a good week so far!

Good-Night

Did you notice that 2 out of the 3 quick pieces I’ve written this month are sleep based? Maybe it’s because I’ve written these stories when I’m about to go to bed or because I’ve realigned my sleep schedule and it feels great! But have you ever realized how much time you spend on your bed? We spend about a third of our lives sleeping and you definitely do other things in bed like watch movies and read books, so it makes sense that most of my stories revolve around sleep. 😉

This story is basically about a woman who wakes up from a nightmare and went out to look for the “murderer”, but her boyfriend noticed and reassured her before going back to bed. It’s a simple, sweet story and I like to think that love doesn’t always have to be sloppy kisses, sobbing tears and sex. It can be simple acts of understanding and cherishing your significant other’s time. It’s actually simpler than you think!

Thanks for reading my short piece! I hope you enjoyed it!

Alice