A Hope and Dreams

A few unrelated short poems Seeing a double of the world next to me through my neighbor’s glasses. Standing up to pace only then seeing the clutter blocking your path, and sitting back down. Flipping the page of a new book only to not recognize the words at the top of the page and turn back to find the missing link. A door slamming shut jumping to face it, then realizing you opened it originally. Blinking your eyes, realizing that fifteen minutes have passed.

The train station was silent. Years ago, it would have been impossible to find such emptiness even if you tried, but today there was nothing left. They had never known there to be anything, but others had explained to them it had once been so. The fluorescent moss creeping up the rusted track was the only gleam in the darkness, the only assurance that they were still there, that they hadn’t just imagined everything in the first place. They started to walk, balancing on top of the rails, arms pinwheeling to keep their small frame steady and upright, to keep them from plummeting into the abyss to either side whenever a silent gust of wind leaned against them, grappling to share the illumination. Grappling to share in the illusion.   Their footsteps were silent, an unwillingness to do anything to disrupt the atmosphere around them even as it pressed down with every moment’s breath. The only thing that could assure them of having made any progress at all was the seemingly random pat...

As she stepped onto the train, embarking on her journey into the sunset she met the shining, teary eyes of her mother, crying for the loss of the life that she had chosen to leave behind. Her mother’s hand moved slightly, as though she was going to attempt to reach out to her, but the movement was quickly aborted. Her hand quickly moved, retreating behind her back as her posture straightened, unconsciously trying to hide her earlier movement. The train’s bell rang and her mother winced, the sound too loud for her aging ears. She quickly covered them with her hands, taking a step back. No one waved to her as the train pulled away, like they always did in the stories as the protagonist faded into the distance, finally at peace. The hero would look forlornly out of the window, sending farewells to family as they slowly pulled away. As the train pulled away, she did not look out the window at the horizon, contemplating her lost past and approaching future. Instead, she slung her backp...

Sometimes it's easy to write. Sometimes, words flow like a waterfall, I tell myself. Sometimes I’m able to step up to my computer, pick up a piece of paper and a pen, and let the ideas that crowd my mind escape. I will let them march in orderly rows, directly to where they need to be, filling in the gaps that were never perfectly filled in my mind, perfectly explaining the story threads that I had never been able to articulate. I tell myself that the words will flow like this, that I’ll be able to sit down and start typing, and I’ll stop only when I realize that hours have passed, that the light outside is dimming, that I’ll have to start lighting candles to full up the space that the day has vacated and the night has not filled. I’ll be able to write continuously, smoothly. I’ll be able to remember everything that my teachers have told me to keep in mind, but not let it overwhelm me. Try to write something that can’t be filmed, who or whom, always keep your verb tense constant,...

Three main things that I should explain: The first is why I named this blog what I did. People say that you should follow your hopes and dreams. However, I believe that a hope and a dream are two different things, with different levels of possibility, different connections to reality, different connections to me, and different connections to you. I have many dreams, but I like to think that I know myself well enough that I have only one major hope. The second is how often I plan on posting. I plan on posting things as often as I write them. I've got a backlog of a few stories that I'm willing to post, but after that things are going to be posted as I write them. I'm not the quickest author, but I'm also not the slowest, so expect around one story/poem/work of fiction post per week. This next week or so will most likely be an exception, as I want to work through posting my backlog as soon as I proofread it (leaving only a few things unposted for those weeks when life g...

Hello World is the phrase that is generally used to test a new program you're writing. If you're a student in a new Computer Science class, you will undoubtedly get the assignment of doing something that will end with your computer telling you 'Hello World'. Assuming you eventually manage to code it correctly. This isn't going to be a Computer Science blog, but this was the first 'First Blog Post' title that I could come up with that I think really fits me. Also it was the first one I could think of on the spot. Getting to the point. I'm going to be using this blog to post various stories, poems, and other creative writing pieces that I write. Feel free to email or comment with feedback, I'm always looking to improve! So, I hope you enjoy the writing you find here, and leave with something that you didn't have before. -JS