The Thing About Nerds

Although I crave the pressure and work that only school can bring, I'm not exactly crazy about it. Thing is, I like school but I don't like studying. It doesn't help that I'm doing better than others in school, because it gives others the impression that I love to study, which I don't. (Does anyone?) I don't mind really, but when people start stereotyping me, then I do mind.

I used to be really sensitive when people called me a nerd. I know it's not really bad to be called one, but being compared to the real geeky people is just not my thing. I'm not the type to study all day and all night like most "nerds" I know, but just because I'm not the athletic type and I'm an introvert, others have the impression that I'm a secluded, weird kid who doesn't care about society. I do! I just don't tell everyone about it. What's so wrong with that?

Things began to change when I came to AJSS. Before it began, I anticipated it to be something of a "nerd club". I already painted a mental image of it actually--people in thick horn-rimmed glasses, poring over books thicker than an Advanced Calculus book, talking in snotty monotone voices. Thus, on the first day of AJSS, I got the shock of my life! Not only were these people un-geeky, they were--heaven forbid it--cool!

Eventually, I began to think twice about being all touchy about the subject. I mean, what's wrong with being a nerd? There's nothing to be ashamed of, really. In fact, it's actually a good thing, being a nerd. Think of all the people who will look up at me one day to say, "Help me, O Great and Powerful Thinker!" Well, okay, not really. Not even in my wildest dreams. Now that I think about it though, that's kind of an advantage to being a nerd. I get the attention that "cool" people get, but even better--I get to help others out!

Some time after this startling inner revelation, I began to accept my "nerdiness". No, I didn"t have to brave a bunch of big, bad bullies to defend my race; nor did I face an entire crowd to deliver a speech to protect all nerds. All I did was accept who I am, and that, my friend, is the most valuable accomplishment I have ever achieved--but of course, that's only until I get my Noble Prize for discovering the cure for the common cold.

Lilies and Roses

It was yet another cold spring day. A tall young woman in a dark green overcoat strolled along the path of the rose garden which her husband had been keeping so dearly. It was a pleasing sight, the bloody red roses on a bed of dark green leaves. There was also a small patch of lilies behind the roses, but they were hardly noticeable because the tall rose bushes had obscured them. Lily walked along the small cobblestone path leading from the manor to the greenhouses. Her husband used to walk these very steps while carefully pruning his prized roses.

A maid came out of the manor and told Lily, "Madam, there is a phone call for you." She took the phone, and answered the call.

It was Annabelle, her mother-in-law, "Listen, this Saturday is Rod's one-month death anniversary, and I've scheduled a mass at the chapel, so I expect you to be there."

"Of course, I'll be there. But I'll be a little late. I have to do something about these overgrown roses in my garden first." Lily replied.

Annabelle wasn't happy, "Ask your gardener to tend them instead, for goodness' sake! It's your husband's death anniversary!" she burst out.

Lily let out a short cold laugh. "My husband didn't care much about me. He cared more for these roses. He would never have let just any gardener touch his beloved roses. I've wanted to get rid of these roses for a long time, and this Saturday is when I plan to do it."

"Well, all right, all right." the elderly woman knew there was nothing else she could do to convince Lily, "Just show up."

The phone call ended, and Lily began pondering over her life with Rod, the person who had been her husband for a short period of three months. It had never been a pleasant life. Rod never bothered about her or anything else. All he cared about were the roses, his roses. Rod never loved anything as much as he did his roses. They got married, but it was just a forced marriage and they didn't even love each other. Lily was the daughter of a rich entrepreneur, and Rod was the son of a wealthy politician.

Their short marriage of two months hadn't been fruitful either. For the whole time they were married, they stayed in separate rooms. Rod's room was near the east wing, where the gardens lay, while Lily's room was on the fourth floor. They only spoke to each other during mealtime, when they had dinner together on the veranda. But still, the only words were, "Please pass the salt." or sometimes, "Would you like some more potato salad?" Their relationship was only a bit more casual than business-like, but still it was far from the close relationship of a married couple.

"Carol?" Lily called to her maid, "Could you get me a pair of shears?"

After the maid handed her the tool, Lily snipped off the roses one by one. Why put off 'til Saturday what she could do now? With every stem that she broke and every thorn that fell on the damp soil, she felt as if a cold hard chain had dropped off her weary soul.

The lilies' white radiance shone through after every single rose had fallen onto the ground. Lily felt a new sense of freedom, as if she was relieved of a heavy burden. Letting out a deep breath that she had been unknowingly holding, she walked into the house.

Picking up the phone on her way to the kitchen, Lily dialed her mother-in-law's number. "Annabelle? I'm going to Hawaii this weekend. I can't go to his death anniversary."

Nature's Song

Down the sun goes into a pool of red and gold
Bringing with it the life of light
Drawing the world into a dark mirage
A different light shines

Life stains the ground with marks of nature
Heavy damp wood and fresh green bushes surround
Hearing within it a new song
As the queen continues her eternal reign

Stretches of azure span a thousand years
And into eternity it flows on and on
Playfully teasing yet in its simplicity
Gushing in the breath of life with ease

Ah, how the days and months go by
Once Earth smiles with her everlasting grace

Stepping Stones

A river flowing
Quietly easing its way
Across the green fields

A path of small stones
Leads through the peaceful river
Marking with wetness

Gently stepping on
Stones in tints of blue and gray
Walking on my own

I see how these stones
Provide to us a path yet
Leaving the river be

Senses

I see

Puffy white clouds gazing into my eyes

I smell

Wafts of fresh ocean breeze teasing my nose

I hear

Soft chatter of songbirds grazing my ears

I taste

Fresh sweet nectar splashing on my tongue

I feel

Peaceful warmth coursing through my veins

I am

A person walking the journey of life

Seeing

Smelling

Hearing

Tasting

Feeling

Being

Shattered Glass

We were to meet at the park. This park held a sentimental value for us, because it was where we had our very first date. I still remember that day; it wasn't very easy to forget.

I had arrived at the park early, three months ago. Half an hour early, actually. I still remember how my mother's high heels had caused me to limp for the following week. And to my surprise, he was already there. He was blushing awkwardly, and I suppose I was, too.

I checked the clock. 3:15 pm. Still quite early, but I shouldn't be late, I thought, so I took the gift I had carefully wrapped in pink paper with me. I was pretty proud of my gift. I had searched all weekend for that, but when I saw it in the store, I fell in love with it. It was a glass figurine, intricately carved into a dainty rose. Its blood red tint contrasted deeply with its delicate features, which enhanced its beauty even more. It was lovely, and I bought it immediately.

As I walked to the park, the small box in my hand, I hummed to myself happily. I was just so incredibly lucky to have him. And he loved me! It was music to my ears. I loved him so much, my heart would burst.

He was there, standing by the tree under which we had our first date. That was so sweet, he had remembered! He had his back turned towards me, so quickly, I laid my gift on the grass, then covered his eyes with my hands, giggling uncontrollably.

"Hey, there you are." He said to me.

I smiled, "Yup! Happy anniversary!" I picked up my gift and showed him.

He looked at me, then the gift in my outstretched hands, "What?"

"Hello? What's wrong with you? Today's our three-month anniversary! Don't tell me you've forgotten!"

"Oh. I-I..." he stammered. How could he forget? I was so excited and everything!

I sighed, "Why did you meet me here then? If it wasn't for our anniversary?"

"I... Can we talk somewhere else? Somewhere quiet?" He asked suddenly, looking uncomfortably at the picnickers around us.

I shrugged, before he led me to a quiet spot near the sidewalk. There weren't any people there. Just us.

"So, what is it?" I asked, the gift in my hand. He didn't seem to have any intention of taking from me.

He squirmed, looking at his feet. What on his feet was more interesting than me, I didn't want to know. "I… I think we should stop seeing each other any more."

I looked at him, not really hearing his words. You see, I had a tendency of just staring into his eyes, without really listening to what he was saying.

"See? That’s your problem! You don't even listen to me!" he suddenly shouted.

What?!?!

He looked at me, "I don't want to see you anymore."

I had been expecting a surprise before I came. And I was right. I was surprised.

The box I had been holding fell to the ground with a crash, and I could almost hear the petals of my rose shattering into a million pieces. My fingers turned numb, my heart seemed to have stopped beating, and suddenly everything around me was far away.

"I'm sorry." As he uttered those two words, my heart followed the fate of my glass rose. It had shattered to the point of no return as I laughed bitterly, my own distant voice echoing with the winds.

Silent Footsteps

Singing softly the silent song of sadness
I feel the dull throb of pain make its way
To my heart, ready to strike the kill
And crush it till nothing remains.

Silently gazing upon the darkened frame
That you, young man, cast upon my heart
My soul, in turn, shatters into dust
As I hear the shadows underneath your feet

Strangely I smell a silent chime of petals
Bristling along on the parched ground
I look back up upon your silhouette
But realizing you are gone, forever.

I glance at where my footsteps once fell
And sweetly remembering its solemn terrain
I turn back to where I once stood before
You came, my love, and tore me away.