Comments Posted By khakicat

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There is always noise around me. I make a distinction between noise and sounds. Sounds are distinguishable and associated with something that I am paying attention to. Noise is just the sound of voices murmuring, the chaotic thoughts in my mind, birds chirping, a fan blowing air. Unfortunately, there are too many things in my life which should be sounds, which deserve my attention, yet I treat them like noise. The conversation of people whom I love, explanations, lessons, stories. It becomes lost in the noise of the moment or gets lost in the noise of my mind.

» Posted By khakicat On 07.14.2016 @ 11:43 pm


She lounged despondently among the cushions and pillows of her plush, posh sofa. Her life really was perfect. There was nothing really worth changing. Yet, she longed for an imperfection and an unknown to explore.

» Posted By khakicat On 07.16.2015 @ 9:15 pm


The gardener laid down his spade. The tennis player slammed down an ace. The little girl gave her mother a basket of paper hearts. The young man sat in a field searching for a four leaf clover.

» Posted By khakicat On 04.09.2015 @ 10:18 am


Just as glistening copper fades to a sickly green, our once brilliant, beaming love corroded into ill hue that no polish could ever restore.

» Posted By khakicat On 04.05.2015 @ 9:35 am


The airbag encompassed her face. A moment of terror. Another of rippling pain. Then nothing.

» Posted By khakicat On 04.04.2015 @ 10:04 am


There are so many parasites in my life: clingy people who just talk and take while I just listen and wait. I want to get them off of me, to be free and able to spend my time around people whom I actually enjoy and who enjoy me as well. But at the same time, I know that these parasitic people are trying to live and socialize, just like me. I’m afraid that if I cut them off, I will hurt them, the way a flea thrown from a dog will starve. Maybe they will just find another host to feed their egos. But what if they don’t? I know what it is to be lonely and I don’t want anyone, not even a parasite to feel that way.

» Posted By khakicat On 04.01.2015 @ 4:15 pm


Melody’s mind was in a constant state of transition. Like a butterfly, it flitted from one thought to another, never lingering on one for more than a moment. Some called her crazy. The doctors and teachers called it ADHD. Her father thought it was a result of all the “damned technology these days.” But Melody’s mother saw a different side. She saw her daughter’s genius; her gift. Not everyone could look at an object, a person, a situation accurately from every angle in a moment.

» Posted By khakicat On 03.20.2015 @ 2:19 pm


I haven’t seen the play “Death of Salesman,” but it’s a classic and I’m an English major so I’m sure we’ll meet at some point. Don’t know why we haven’t been introduced yet. I think I may have read an excerpt from it once, but that’s kind of like hearing about someone without actually meeting and knowing them. Maybe I’ll use it in my 2015 Reading Challenge.

» Posted By khakicat On 03.20.2015 @ 3:55 am


“I used to hold the key; next the walls were closed on me and I discovered that my castles stand on pillars of salt and pillars of sand,” the Coldplay lyrics echoed from the next room over.
“Can you even comprehend what has happened to me, to us?” Ben asked. “Everything I’ve worked for is gone. Gone,” he sat down and ran his hands through his hair. “All undone in a day,” he whispered.
Alice paced the kitchen. “I’m sure there’s a way to make amends,” she said. “Just explain the situation to them. They’re rational people, and once they see it’s only a misunderstanding, everything will be fine.” There was silence for a moment, then she turned and looked at him searchingly. “Of course, it is only a misunderstanding. You obviously wouldn’t have embezzled the money.”
He heard the slight query in her voice. It was more of a question than a statement. “She actually doubts me,” he thought. “You can do everything right your whole life, but with one little mistake, all is forgotten.”

» Posted By khakicat On 03.18.2015 @ 2:19 pm


Tracking footprints was what we did for fun. During our breaks from school, my mismatched group of elementary school friends and I scanned the muddy tractor ruts along the orchard’s perimeter in search of deer and coyote prints. During these peaceful hours, the divisions between us disappeared. United in searching for abnormalities in the soft earth, we ceased to see flaws in each other.

» Posted By khakicat On 01.06.2014 @ 5:19 pm


Finals are finally over. Time for a Netflix coma. New Girl, Game of Thrones, Psych, Dexter, take me! I’m yours!

» Posted By khakicat On 12.22.2013 @ 10:16 am


“If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs and blaming it on you…”
“If” by Rudyard Kipling is one of my all time favorite poems. It is one of the reasons I am an English major. It is one of the reasons I love poetry.
The word “if” really is poetry if you think about it. Poetry contains big messages in a few words. “If” contains big possibilities, consequences, potential in few letters. Pretty neat, actually.

» Posted By khakicat On 12.20.2013 @ 11:51 pm


“What did you think I meant, silly? Get your mind out of the gutter,” T.J. laughed, tousling her hair.
Despite his faults and his somewhat crude sense of humor, or perhaps because of them, this strange friend, this man who had weaseled a way into her strictly regulated, no-time-for-relationships life, reminded Anna so much of Joe. Sometimes she would do a double-take to reassure herself that it wasn’t him. She felt like a parasite, clinging to T.J. merely to absorb the echoes of Joe that seemed to reverberate from him.

………….aaaand that sounds like Twilight….. -.-

» Posted By khakicat On 09.25.2013 @ 7:38 am


Tall, once-white rice silos stood in front of the world’s smallest mountain range. They had been there so long that they almost seemed to be a natural part of the landscape. Like ancient guardians of the land, they loomed over the surrounding rice fields and orchards, watching, waiting for the harvest when their empty, echoing chambers would finally be filled.

» Posted By khakicat On 08.16.2013 @ 6:48 pm


Three sons and a daughter. Many would call that a blessing. The gods had favored him with many male heirs and only a lone, little daughter to sap away his resources, and she never asked for much, anyways. Indeed, Mori admitted he was blessed quite prodigiously, but what is wealth without power?
Ezra Stein, Mori’s ever smiling rival, had five sons and no daughters. Obviously, Ezra was the favorite with the gods and thus the favorite with the people. Whatever he did was right. Whatever he said was holy. Whenever his sparkling eye fell on you, there was no choice, no desire to do anything but submit. If Mori’s ideas contradicted Ezra’s how could they ever gain ground or become realities? His status and opinion would never match that of his charming rival.

» Posted By khakicat On 08.09.2013 @ 10:20 pm


It seems to me that there are very few ways to spend time that, in the scheme of things, are truly worthwhile. Is it best to pursue solitary activities like reading or learning an instrument or language. Or is it a better use of time to engage with people, to text them, call them, be with them, and really get to know them? It is my quest to find those paths and people, those activities that make the time spent in them meaningful and fulfilling.

» Posted By khakicat On 08.07.2013 @ 7:00 pm


All of my inhibitions were based on an elaborately imagined reality. That’s a lot of really long words saying I was insecure with myself, with my perception of others, and my understanding of the society around me.
“Just believe in yourself.”
“Dance as if no one is watching.”
“Live today like there is no tomorrow.”
That’s what I was continually told at school and at home, by good people who only wanted to help me, people who thought they saw some potential in me.
But they didn’t understand. And I never thought that the way of whiny Emos do, when they don’t really want to be understood. More than anything during that time, I would have loved and embraced a confidante.
But how could I believe in myself when I had done that before and ended up killing the wrong person, the innocent person. The victim.
How could I dance as if no one was watching when I was in fact being watched?
With that guilt and the dread that those watching me might find me, I knew that there could very well be no tomorrow if I didn’t play dead today.

» Posted By khakicat On 08.06.2013 @ 5:57 pm


Fasting from fun and friends, I sought
after ambition. I craved
recognition, affirmation from
powerful people.

With frivolities forgotten,
managers nodded
at my performance:
condescending gods weighing my worth,
judging me,
accepting me, at last.

Early essays and soaring grades–important
professors knew my name and greeted
me as I passed in crowded streets
of faceless eyes.

And life seemed to hold no goal
besides burning mediocrity,
on the altar of pride–
a sweet smelling aroma to
my gods.

But one time, I failed, broke my fast.
My sealed facade split
with a sputtering laugh.
Just for a moment,
my starved soul was filled.
and in a flash I wondered if it was
too late to unbuild my looming tower
glowing and powered by
my own arrogant esteem.

» Posted By khakicat On 08.05.2013 @ 11:43 pm


Jamie’s deft hands pulled open the desk’s drawers as his eyes scanned the contents within. Nothing important. Like a bird, he froze and listened intently for any approaching sound, but all was silent. He turned from the desk to a wall of meticulously alphabetized files. Jamie hurried along it until he came to the W’s. Woods. Woods. There. Julie. Julie Woods. Fingers trembling, he grabbed the file, labeled with his sister’s name. He stared at it for a second then lurched forward to put it back.
But innocence is not bliss; innocence is torture. Knowledge and whatever emotions and consequences it brings is infinitely better than doubting, trusting, hoping, denying, torture of uncertainty.
Slowly, Jamie opened the dusty manilla folder.

» Posted By khakicat On 07.13.2013 @ 11:01 pm


At the first chords of the song, a collage of memories spread through Emma’s mind like a deck of cards scattered on a table. Everything she knew before The Fading came back for just a moment as those notes shivered through the air. And then, a moment later, when the woman next to her changed the radio channel, those pictures in her mind all disappeared. Emma reached for them with the tendrils of her consciousness, but it was so much work, and she was far too tired…
The wrinkles in her hands formed such curious streams, straining and grasping like grass roots anchoring a plant to life.

» Posted By khakicat On 06.05.2013 @ 9:06 pm


The racket of air horns and vuvuzelas filled the airstreams as the graduates filed across the stage, waving and cheering. No graduation is complete without them.

» Posted By khakicat On 05.17.2013 @ 9:53 pm


I poured the salt into the glass of water and watched it dissolve far too quickly. I hated gargling that stuff, but I hated the painful sore throat more. I think that’s the way it is with relationships and friendships. Sometimes you have to put salt in the wound in order to heal.

» Posted By khakicat On 05.01.2013 @ 8:29 pm


“All kinds of trouble will ensue if you pursue this ‘plan,’ if that’s what you want to call it. How can you expect me to support this kind of decision?”
“But after the trouble burns itself out, happiness, peace, and security will follow. That’s what we’ve always wanted isn’t it? That’s what we’ve spent our lives trying to achieve? Help me, Miriam. Take this risk. Yes, life is going to be awful for a while. Maybe a long while. But this story will have a happy ending. I promise.”

» Posted By khakicat On 04.30.2013 @ 4:23 pm


As my car came barreling towards them, twenty or so screaming crows flew up from the pavement like the angry smoke monster on the TV show LOST.

» Posted By khakicat On 04.29.2013 @ 10:10 am


Olivia clasped the rock in her hands. At first appearance, it was just an ordinary rock, likely from a river bed. But when she pressed it to her lips and whispered words, memories, and hopes it did became those things. As the Olivia’s breath caressed the stone’s surface, the fragile ideas at the edge of her mind became reality as long as restless words streamed from her mouth.

» Posted By khakicat On 04.27.2013 @ 9:40 pm


“We’ll be there soon,” she said. That’s what she always said, but as usual, it wasn’t true. Soon, in her way of thinking implied something like in the next few hours, before the event is over. Rarely within the next few minutes did she ever arrive.

» Posted By khakicat On 11.25.2012 @ 6:38 pm


She took a breath of the fresh morning air and shivered in its crisp coolness. “This is the day,” she whispered, shivering again at the thought.

» Posted By khakicat On 10.10.2012 @ 9:21 pm


She scooted to the seat closest to the window and tossed her bag into the seat next to her. After jamming her headphones into her ears she looked around the bus through half closed eyes. “Oh no. Here he comes,” she thought. She leaned her head against the window and pretended to sleep.

» Posted By khakicat On 09.09.2012 @ 8:47 am


She flexed her muscles. They were definitely getting bigger. Pushing lines of six shopping carts around parking lots all day had it’s benefits. But what good are muscles when buried underneath fat? Megan pursed her lips and stared longingly at the carton of Ben and Jerry’s in the freezer. “Well, maybe just a bite,” she thought.

» Posted By khakicat On 09.07.2012 @ 6:09 pm


It’s bitterly ironic that this word should appear on this day–the day that I am so terribly haunted by my greatest loss.

» Posted By khakicat On 07.30.2012 @ 9:27 pm

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