Hey mom.

When I was little I would always ask my parents why they named me- Kanmani. An exotic name is it not? No one at school had such a name, so why me? My little child’s brain was a thing of callow and naive thoughts of wonder at everything in sight. Therefore giving me the constant consent that such questions like these must be answered. My mother didn’t hesitate to answer as I stared with an anxious widening of my eyes. She looked me directly in the eyes and said:

When you were born you and you father looked down at you, our first daughter and thought how precious you are to us. This tiny human laying in my arms will be the star in our solar system. Your fragile and angelic. Kanmani means precious like the eye. You are so much like that Kanmani. Remember that.

I have never forgotten those words, sure my parents may have but there is no way I could. Its stamped in my head, every time I feel like a failure I think of those words because my mother, my best friend, she said those to me. That has been imprinted in my head, those words are what have only made a quarter of who I am. My mom, oh my gosh this amazing, incredible human being. She is this loving, generous, strong, soul, this umbra. She can make anyone in her presence feel like the most carefree and loved spirit in the world. She can walk with the entire universe on her shoulders and make it look like she has delicate wings on her back. Without my mom I wouldn’t have the motivation to do what I do now.

Another thing about my mom is that she has this aura around her like her own atmospheric bubble. The instant you enter it you’re being washed by love and graciousness. If she hugs you the effect from that embrace will still leave and impression on you long after her arms have left your body. If you guys do not remember, I made a post last year, in February about my mom and someone commented on that post saying that my mom is a kind person and they still remember being hugged by her. A hug with so much love. They also said I was very lucky to have her as a mom.

Indeed I am.

A lot of people say that I have the looks of my father, from the curve of my jawline down to the way I smile. But a handful of people say I look like my mom. But alas, looks are the most deceiving. My mom is smart in every situation, she isn’t awkward or hesitant. She is an amazing cook and has the willpower of a thousand forests and mountains. She is graceful and adored and thinks before acting. She is smart and wise. She is so calm and unique in the best way possible and has the beauty patience of a willow tree.

I on the other hand am probably the most awkward person alive and the only thing I can make in the kitchen is cereal and toast. I cant even be sure about my own willpower and I’m as graceful as an oaf. I don’t think before my actions and I not that smart most of the time and have the wisdom of a goldfish cracker.

But the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

My mom makes me feel like I can do anything and I don’t love another female more than I love her and my sister. I believe in love at first sight because the first thing I saw when I was born was her. My mother believes in me more than I believe in myself. Happy Mothers Day  everyone, of and before I sign off I need to do something;

Here is a letter to you mom:

Dearest mother.

I will love you as long as the waves crash on the shores of the beach,

as long as the stars shine,

the sun rises,

the rain falls,

the flowers unfurl,

the winds blow,

the moon glows,

and wolves howl to the sky.

Adieu My Best of Love,

Kanmani

Riptide

The sea spray misted my eyes, freckling my nose and staining my lips. legs balanced on the board, slicing through the waves flawlessly. The water looked breathtaking today, for such an isolated area. Than again, all secluded places seem to be the most beautiful. The sea was completely smooth, the waves curving like paper that had been wetted lightly. I guided the board through the water seamlessly, standing crouched slightly, my arms spread slightly in a fighters stance to keep my balance. The clouds above seemed to be crowded masses of grey, giving no mercy to the blue sky hidden underneath.

The atmosphere got more intense, as if the sky was taking in its last breath. The brackish water started to get less sleek, instead becoming more rough with each moment passing by. I squinted my eyes, looking into the distance. Trying to seek an asylum. Before I could give another thought a massive tidal wave confronted me in my path. I tried my best to pivot away but the sea though otherwise. The wave hit me. My heart leaped in my chest and my blood went cold. I was jostled about like a plaything between the waters that had betrayed me. I sucked in one large, final breath before everything went

b l a c k

I blinked, My eyes adjusting to the darkness of, of. . . Wherever I was. Something above me glowed. No, not a thing, a multitude of things. Crystals, gemstones, limpid stones in the colors of the sea. In those stones, I saw my own reflection. I stared up, I stared back. I ran a hand through the mess that was my hair. As per usual dark locks of hair seemed to forever get into my eyes. My eyes seemed to match the color of the gems above. Changing with each turn of direction. My bottom lip was split open, I touched it with the tip of my finger. Big mistake. It burned, as the salt that lingered on my fingers seemed to collide with the small open wound. I inspected the rest of my face a huge gash was on my right cheek, at the brink of bleeding out if it was not tended to. I sat straight up only to be pushed down in the darkness.

I was nose to nose with a girl. She had short dark hair that curled at the ends and when the light shone on it directly it shined like a deep indigo ball of fire. She had piercing blue eyes that seemed to be boring into me trying to pinpoint my weaknesses, her lips a light, faded pink.

Dont. You. Dare. Get. Up.

She deadpanned as she took out something from a sack that she had on her side. I just noticed that her arms looked really built and strong as they wrapped some thick fabric like material around my torso. I looked down and saw that my stomach had something protruding from it. Just that instant I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen that made me feel like I could die any minute. I swear to god if you move more than you already are than you shouldn’t be surprised if your dead body is on the ground of this cave right now.

Oh the irony.

Where am I. I asked

“In a cave.” She said simply

Where?

On an island.

Where?

In the middle of the Pacific.

Where?

” I F Y O U D O N O T S T O P A S K I N G Q U E S T I O N S I W I L L D R O W N Y O U I N Y O U R O W N B L O O D.

I instantly quieted until she finished bandaging my wound, both of our weight supported by the cot I was laying on. So whats your name? She asked simply as if she didn’t just give me a death threat. Hugo, you?

Cleo.” Thats a pretty name, I slurred, I was getting tired as if she injected me with a truckload of Anastasia. I vision blurred, everything around me was a mirage. Why is the sky blue? Who is this pretty girl looking at me like I’m and idiot? Why does my entire body feel like I am being used like a human punching bag? Whats my name?

Who am I?

CLIFFHANGER! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I AM SOOOO EVIL! But do not worry fair viewers of this blog for I will post part 2 the very next post. I hope you liked this little short story of mine. Below are two drawings, and if you haven’t guessed yet they are Hugo and Cleo. I did these a while ago that are actually two totally different characters from my one of my favorite book series. But I thought that these drawings also kinda fit Cleo and Hugo’s physical appearances. These two drawings took me about two hours each to do( both done of separate days obviously. ) These are mine and they don’t belong to any other artists but me.

Just to put that out there.

Yeah.

 

If you have to ask what jazz is then you will never know. – Louis Armstrong

(All YouTube content posted in this are not mine, all rights go to the rightful owners of their content. )


My whole life my parents have been introducing me to so many musicians that aren’t recognized just as much know. So many artists that I have come to love and aspire by for the past thirteen years(yes I am thirteen now, finally!),as well as exalted my mind. But there is this one musician that really jump started my need to make art with sound. And no, I am not writing about Louis Armstrong but I would love to in his honor. But I am writing about none other than.

*trumpet fanfare*

KENNETH BRUCE GORELICK

a k a Kenny G.  😉

Alongside Dido, Illayraja, and a bunch of other musicians, I think Kenny G is one of my dads favorite considering that fact that he has be nagging me to do this post and his taste in musical benevolence is contagious. So here we go:

When I was little I used to think that the only music in the world consisted of people singing not instrumental harmonies. I know that sounds really stupid but I was like four okay? So you can imagine what it was like for me when I finally realized that instruments can- T A L K. I said and I quote:

T H E   S A X O M A P H O N E    I N    T H E     S P E A K E R   I S  T A L K I N G   TO   M E.  M O M  H E L P

Jazz music is a part of my life that I don’t think I can let go, specifically that because of Kenny G.

If you don’t know who Kenny G is, he is a professional saxophonist( tenor saxophone, alto sax, barry sax, soprano sax, etc.)who had his debut album released in nineteen ninety-six. Which gave him success in the musical industry.

Were you expecting more? Ooh, sorry bout that but that all I really know about his career.

Yep.

I’m a disappointment I know.

A N Y W A Y

I am gonna be honest with you and probably gonna embarrass my dad in the process but ya know, thats how life works(it actually doesn’t I just tried to make a jok- you know what never mind. ). My dad constantly rants about how Kenny G is a maestro when it comes to jazz and I cant help but think, man.

Dat man has real curly hair.

My parents tell me that when I was a little girl, I used to cry over this song called Paradise that Kenny G played and composed. I was a seriously emotional kid back then. And by back then I mean still a little bit now.  Heres the song for you guys below :

IM NOT CRYING. MY EYES ARE JUST SWEATY

That song really gets me in the feels and i just get super captivated every time I listen to it. The embouchure and the staccato. Just UUUHH. I WANT THIS TALENT. Kenny G is such an incredible musician and I honestly just wish more people know about him.

Another one of our favorites is this one:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nlr3a7QRHJc

The collaboration with the strings, drums, and of course the soprano saxophone is absolutely incredible and the melody is amazing. This kind of music is just so relaxing and I love listening to this kind of genre when doing homework or studying for a test because it just calms your nerves and just makes you let loose after so much work. This, for me personally is just a work of art that electrifies your veins and the aura goes straight to your heart. The instrument expresses things you cant say with words, and yet, at the same time you can understand it and let it flow through the gates of you conscience.

This kind of music is like medicine for the mind or ambrosia for your soul. This kind of talent and skill is and should be honored and relished for its beauty and alluring enticements. Music is such a big part of my life and I know I have said it before but you know what? Why not I say it again. Music and art and adventure, these are things that make life such a beautiful and bewitching thing. Doesn’t it make you want to just make the best of everything? I know for a fact that everything that I have in my life- family, friends, music, art, exploits, writing,- makes it worthwhile.

I know there are bad things in the world, that we aren’t perfect. We don’t have to be. I know there are people out there who think otherwise but you know what? All of this, these shootings, political problems, climate, hate. All of this can be fixed if you have the willingness and determination of an army. There is so much good in the world. Dont just take in the bad. For the sake of you and every else around please. I know this has nothing to do with my subject for today but I have to say it somehow. Music can bring people together. People can bring people together. So for those people out there sick of me ranting about who knows what, here is my ultimate favorite song from Kenny G:

Thanks for reading and if you aren’t sick of me yet than I am deeply indebted to you. I also suggest maybe getting yourself checked because I am insane. 😉

All the Way Home

(This post is not sponsored by ANY brands named in this post)

It takes hands to build a house, but it takes hearts to build a home.

Those words were the first things I saw when I walked into my English classroom a few weeks ago with my hands full with books and pencils and pens sticking out of the mound of hair on the top of my head that couldn’t even pass as a bun. My shoulder weighed down by the boulder that is my backpack.  My hand trying to keep my flute steady before the case would clatter to the floor. While we all settled down and took out our books and binders, I scanned the room. I saw countless faces staring with confused looks on as we looked at our teacher holding a stick pointing to the words that everyone was trying to mentally decipher.

Everyone but me.

That day was one of our journaling  days, but instead of it being a free write like on a usual day like that. We were instructed to write something based of the quote on the board. Of course as everyone stared at their journals with blank looks on their faces, I scribbled furiously on my paper, my hand, mind, heart, and soul working as one.  My friends looked at me, their faces vacant of emotion. “How in the world are you writing so much and so freaking fast!?!” One of my friends yelled in a whisper. I just shrugged my shoulders in a silent gesture meaning I don’t have an answer to that one man. My friend huffed in pretend disappointment but actually started writing a few sentences. In fact, everyone else started to write a little bit as well. As if a curse was uplifted amongst everyone in the classroom.

I guess everyone finally understood what home really meant.

I had been living in various apartments ever since I was brought into the world. First a tiny apartment with one bedroom. Light always filled the room and I remember looking through pictures with my mom and i would see me. But smaller, I so small in my mothers arms with her beaming at me as I looked at her my eyes wide with wonder as the sun kissed my hair. When I was about three or four we moved into a different apartment but at the same complex that the previous one was owned by. This one was a bit bigger but with the same necessities. Most of my childhood was spent there. My cousins and I painting our hands with mud and smacking them against the wall outside the building. Our tiny hands depicting innocence and a carefree mind. The summer when I was a second grader going onto third grade, we moved into a two story apartment(same complex area) two bedrooms and two bathrooms. The carpet was plush when we got there. I being the senseless young girl I was wondered how I was ever going to make this empty vast space a home when I had left one behind.

It took me a while to realize that home was where ever the people I loved were with me.

Years have passed and we have made so many memories. It was the place my sister was born into, it was where I realized that words and books are my soulmates for life. Hypothetically speaking, it was the place where I finally realized that home is a not a place or a thing, but a feeling.  I am twelve(going on to thirteen) now. I had moved to that apartment when I was eight so it’s been four years. I have transubstantiated from that young absurd little eight year-old into the somewhat of a decent teenager I am now.  My eyes understand the world better than they did four years ago.

I started to think I want to live in a place we can call our own. My parents were quick to agree three years into our living there. They searched multiple websites, picking up flyers they found when an open house popped up somewhere near us. Of course they wanted to find a place that was close to school. They searched and sorry if I was being selfish but I was getting anxious. I would constantly send messages to God praying that we would find a place of our own. My mom always says that god will always answer your prayers if you try hard enough and if you believe that it will happen. I live by that everyday. I don’t let my flame die down and my determination is in me like armor that can’t  be penetrated by the deadliest bullet.

My wishes were answered and struck me when I least expected it.

It was about a month and a half before today and I was sitting at the kitchen table. I was (re)reading one of my favorite books called Silent Luna as music pounded in my ears. One of my favorite quotes from that book was:

“I thought I had died when I was alone…

‘Till you found me here and brought me back home. “

I legit am not kidding, right after I read the sentences(that also made me mentally break down)my dad told to my mom:

Dad: We got the house.

Mom: ….

Dad: We got the house.

Mom: ….

Mom: *eyes widen* Really?!

Dad: YES, COME LOOK!

My mom looked close to tears of happiness, and my dad looked super happy but his eyes held a thousand thoughts. My little brother’s face seemed blank and confused like the What the heck is even going on right now. I for one didn’t know what to think. Have my parents really found a house? We’re seriously once and for all leaving and apartment? For good? Thoughts clouded my head one by one; though I still managed to get the right idea registered into my head, even through the obscure smog in my head drowning anything lucid or comprehensible that entered my conscious. Of course I was on cloud nine and I was joining mom, brother and sister with jubilant cheers. But I was wondering why my dad said that they got “the” house and not “a” house.

I asked my dad about it and he said that they(they meaning my mom and dad) had actually seen the house a few weeks before since it was(extremely) close to school. But then the real estate agent told them a few days later that the house had been taken. My mom told me that, that house seemed perfect and they couldn’t let go of it. So they kept hope that it would pop up for opportunity again. Now lets get back to that night.

My parents talked to each other more about stuff like remodeling and prices of essential kitchen and bathroomy(???) stuff. Of course me being the eccentric(and frankly the dorkiest person on this planet) intelligent seventh grade female I am, I daydreamed instead. (Wait it was actually like seven or eight at night so would that mean just dreaming or like, okay you know what never mind your missing the point.)

I was making plans in my head:

I could start a garden and make my bedroom look super minimalistic and rustic. I could maybe even add a few decals here and there. And obviously I need a huge desk and a swivel chair thats super comfy, and a cute little nightstand next to my bed. Oh! I could also get a NASA poster to put above my bed or maybe I could get a solar system model that I can hang on the ceiling above my bed. I could also get a Ravenclaw banner and put it somewhere. Or maybe get a little Ministry of Magic sign…

“-Kanmani, Kanmani, KANMANI HARIVENKATESH!!!” My mom and dad both trying to salvage me back to reality.

*Picks up a tennis ball and chucks it across the room* – My brother

“What the-” *Smack*

My head snapped up and heat creeped up my neck as I tried to come up with a reasonable explanation as to why I wasn’t paying attention to their(undeniably boring) financial statements and planning. I also ended up having to rub the side of my temple as it was throbbing from BEING SMACKED BY A FREAKING TENNIS BALL. *ahem* As I was saying, my dad then asked me “You wanna see a picture of the house?” I wanted to scream HECK YEAH! but I kept my composure and with a blunt nod I instead replied with, “Yes I would like that very much.” Probably to formal on my part, but who cares. My dad pulled up a tab on his laptop that had a google maps location that lo and behold featured a cute little cottage like house. The stereotypical California beach house. Excluding the beach of course. It had light brick red accents around the window and door frames. As well as on the garage door and the poles upholding the porch roof.  It had beautiful rosebushes in the front yard, with a pebble pathway winding around the chaparral and brushes surrounding it. The windows were very wide in width and tall in height. A tall white fence lined the left side of house and the side yard. The titanium white paint had chips of its reminisces peeling off, exposing the timeworn wood underneath.

My dad zoomed out so we could see a satellite view of the house. Please keep in my that before my dad actually showed us the house on his laptop he told us that it would take at least an hour to just get too school. I was quite surprises at this because my parents key task was to find a house that was close to school for both me and my brother. I was getting suspicious and I was debating whether or not I should believe what my dad told me.Wow thats a really big school. With another school beside it! Wow. Too bad I have to drive for an hour just to get to mine. But then my idiot of a mind realized something. My house was adjacent to my own school. Like I literally have to walk like three feet from my property and then I walk across a bridge and than BAM I’m on the school’s property. I was so happy that I finally didn’t have arrive at school like two minutes before class starts. My parents beamed at me as I continued to gawk at what was going to now be my home.

O N E  W E E K  L A T E R

My dad drove forward and turned left and out of the apartments parking lot. We drove for a few minutes before taking a left to a neighborhood that was right across from the park and a few blocks left of City Hall. We turned and we drove past a bunch of other houses, each one the same style but of them having there own aspects to them that seemed to make them all seem different. Making it all diverse. Not anomalous of course. Soon my dad parked into the driving of what was our house. In real life it was even more surreal for me. Soon enough this place was going to be my home. I knew that it would take at least a month to remodel most of the house, like the bathrooms, kitchen, roofing, painting, etc.

My dad said that the realtor was going to give us the key. Since he wasn’t there yet I decided to just explore the front of the house. Apparently my parents and my brother had the same idea. I stepped out off the car and straightened my shirt and jeans. I retired my shoes and walked out to the front and joined my parents. The window on the front was huge and obviously very aged but I instantly fell in love with the way the sun streamed down on it. While my parents talked I decided to go to the bridge that was above the canal where I could walk to the school field.I stood on the bridge and watched the water in the aqueduct below flow and trickle.

Suddenly I heard a sharp, HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII coming from a voice we didn’t recognize. I turned around and saw a woman  grinning from ear to ear.

Her: Hi are you guys our new neighbors?

My Dad: Yeah we will be moving in once we finish remodeling, it will take about a month.

Her: How exciting for you guys! This is a great neighborhood and the location is perfect.

Her: Hi whats your name? *looks at me*

Me: *sweating bullets* My name is Kanmani, so nice to me you

Her: What a pretty name! I have never heard such amazing names like your families

My Dad: *chuckles* Thanks so much for coming down here to say hi, which house do you live in?

Her: *points to which one is her house*

T I M E  S K I P(cuz you cant really expect me to remember that whole entire conversation and assume that I can recall the whole thing and sit in front of this computer the whole time all in one sitting.)

Her: Well I better get going, goodbye! So nice to meet you!

All of us: Bye!

She turned back and walked along the road back to her house after waving goodbye Wow she is so nice, I hope I can meet everyone else here. What a lively women. I thought as I traced the patterns on the wood Soon a car pulled up and a man stepped out who I recognized as the realtor that I saw on the card my dad had. He shook my dads hand and shook my moms, then mine. He and my dad discussing things briefly, they joked around with my brother and me before he went reaching into his pocket and taking out a key ring with one single key on it with a little blue key chain. He handed it to me and said you wanna do the honors? I slowly nodded my head as I took the keys from his grasp. I plastered on a smile but my mind was just like:

WHY AM I DOING THIS I SHOULDN’T BE DOING THIS I AM REALLY REALLY REALLY BAD WITH KEYS AND LOCKS I MEAN SERIOUSLY I ALMOST BROKE A LOCK ONCE I REALLY DON’T WANT TO DO THIS WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME DO THIS MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY.

I pushed the key into the lock and turned until I heard a click. Doing the same with the lock underneath. I pulled the key out and opened the door giving myself a mental pat on the back for successfully  unlocking the door without destroying the lock and the foundation. And trust me, I can be very destructive when I don’t mean it. One time I was making pancakes with my mom and I managing to break the measuring cup that was holding flour, FLOUR. Yeah the substance made of grains(and other stuff I don’t know)that you put in baked goods.  How is this possible, I don’t know. Anyway, I was just glad I didn’t manage to destroy our new house without even walking in yet.

We all stepped in and inhaled, breathing in the smell of the aged walls and wood. The walls were an decrepit old white-the results of years and years of standing as a white wall. We all stepped inside, the window in the living room had an old chandelier hanging from an intricate metal hook screwed into the beautiful wooden ceiling. I loved the wooden ceiling and gave me cabin-in-the-woods kind of vibe. We stood on floors that were completely covered in carpet similar too the one we had in our apartment. The house reminded of a lodge, perhaps my dad had the same idea when he first saw the house. Yeah I should ask him about that. Anyway, we all wandered the house individually. My mom and my little sister went straight to the kitchen, my dad outside, my brother went down the hallway to the bedrooms, as I followed suit.

I followed my little brother he stopped in the doorway of the first room, It was not to small or too big and I was able to picture(quite well actually)my brothers stuff in this room.  My brother stood his ground when he said that he wanted this to be his bedroom so I backed off and saw that there was a bathroom on the other side of the hallway. I continued my descent to see the other two bedroom awaiting me. Right next the the bathroom was a large bedroom with another bathroom in it. This one seemed perfect for my parents to fit their bed and my sisters crib inside so I went to the last bedroom. I stepped inside, and I instantly decided that it was mine. It was slightly larger than the room my little brother chose. My parents caught up with my brother and I and they started going from room to room. I stepped out of my room(YES IT IS MY ROOM NOW ACCORDING TO ME)and saw that there was a closet right next to my room, the closet facing the bathroom. I opened it and saw it line with ledges to place wooden square boards or shelves to store things in.

I explored more of the house but soon enough my parents called me to the backyard.

I closed the door behind me but it hit the door frame with a slam that made everyone jump. The metal mesh of the old door shuddering and scaring the heck out of everyone. SO I was just like: yEaH dAd FIX IT BEFORE IT STARTS ACTING LIKE A FLIPPING DEMON AGAIN.

Anyway, we all just hung out sitting on the concrete. I starting fiddling with a bunch of weeds. I starting braiding the dried stalks as my parents started talking about remodeling, demolishing, stuff like it. Soon my little sister started getting super fussy and my brother was getting bored. I too had some reading to catch up on. We all settled into the car. But soon my parents ushered us out because apparently one of our new neighbors decided to greet us. I stepped out and was greeted with a blond women who had on thick black glasses and was grasping the leash of an adorable(and fluffy) white dog. The man beside her(who I assumed was her husband)was very tall and had glasses on as well. They both had friendly smiles and shook each of ours hands. I kneeled down and petted the dog and scratched behind its ear as it nuzzled my palm with its nose. My parents talked about the house and introduced each of us.

Turns out there names were Angelica and John. They are both very nice and Angelica runs music lesson in her house. She turned to me asking questions like, “Do you go to this school?” stuff like that. Then she asked,

“Do you know Arwen?”

“Arwen, Arwen the flute player?”

“Yes that one!”

“Of course! She is one of my best friends!” I cried.

“Thats wonderful, she is one of my students”

Soon we said our farewells and drove home(the other one, the apartment one, you know what never mind). It was around seven o clock when we arrived home, my brother went to sleep, my dad and mom discussed more stuff as my mom made dinner my sister on her hip. And I, well, I was upstairs in my room just thinking. About everything. I was going to be moving in less than two months.

I ran a hand through my hair a grinning like an idiot. Man. I really need to start getting packed.

The time between my parents finding the house and us officially moving was a blur. Everyday slowly was more busy for my dad then the last. He was constantly in and out of the house, when the contractor needed some material he would be there and instantly jumping up to do the deed. Slowly he started growing more irritatible and my brother and I tried not to disturb him whenever he had any moments of peace. Every time I told him that the needed to rest more he would always just shrug it of and say “its just how it is.” It took me very little time to understand the meaning of that specific statement. He has been working so hard on this house. He would show us pictures of the house that he would take when he would go there and conduct everyone’s work. So yeah, we didn’t really remember what a “normal” lifestyle was anymore. But thats okay because it was all worth it.

Without the help of a few people though, we wouldn’t have been able to accomplish anything. My uncles(my dads older brothers)gave us some money to pass by(Babu periyappa), and you have no idea how much that has helped with the process, my other uncle giving wonderful advice and helping with each step(Sekar periyappa). Sekar Periyappa was the one who pushed my dad to buy a house, keep looking, find the best for us. Also my dads ex boss and his brother(Rajiv and Ash Gujaral) Mr. Rajiv was the one who told my dad about this house and literally BOUGHT it for us. Mr. Ash Gujaral was the one who gave us the extra money to help with the remodeling. They both were also a massive help and they were very beneficial, financially. Like I have said in previous posts, I am constantly surrounded by so many incredible people that I honestly don’t see myself living without. My friends, family, even the kindness of strangers.

Mankind, it is so underestimated. We have so much power over our own future and destiny. All of it constantly resting on the decisions we make every day, and our actions. Karma, is another thing that I think that should be taken more seriously. Good acts lead to good blessings, bad actions lead to a horrible fate. Whether it be simple or intimate. Your actions can leave a massive footprint on what will happen in your future. My parents have been waiting, fourteen years, to find a house, like an actual house. Not some apartment. They have worked and prayed, and now we have been blessed. I have been blessed with these amazing two people that I can call proudly, my parents. And every single person who managed to help, even just exchanging a kind and supporting word. You are well appreciated, just because you care.

Loyalty can mean different things to everyone or the same to a group of people. It is either a personal definition or something you contribute(or would like contributed)in actions and decisions that show your allegiance to a group and or a specific person or society.  An example of loyalty in my family is if one member needs something or needs help in a situation my dad instantly jumps in and tries to find out the circumstances without hesitation. An example of loyalty between my friends and I is quite similar to what my family does. If my friend is having a rough time or he/she gets into a situation they don’t want to be in we all stay by their side until the rough tide washes over. Loyalty is something that no matter what should be a quality that friends, family, and even schoolmates or colleagues should have. It is a trait that is treasured by people wise enough to choose friends to surround themselves in who can have that characteristic in their bearing and have it in their mind and conscience.

I also learned something.

Worrying is basically betting against yourself.

The month went by so quickly as we lived our lives around what was going on at the heart of our minds. Soon enough we started packing, I stowed away my stuff in boxes, throwing away or donating whatever I didn’t need. Packing was just a pain in the neck. I expected it to go in like breakneck speed but it was just a nightmare. Everyday seemed to bring on more stuff to pack than the last. I don’t think I can look at a moving truck without cringing. Just thinking of it can make my brain hurt. Honestly I wish I can just be like every other character in Harry Potter and use a shifting charm or something. But alas, life isn’t that easy.

Gravity.  Art thou a provoking pain in the everyday life.

Every single day, my parents worked their butts off packing up everything in an organized fashion. That organized fashion being me chucking lotion and other bathroom necessities into a ginormous cardboard box labeled “BATHROOM” in the weirdest block letters known to humanity made by my hand. My parents seemed to have planned literally everything when it came to packing. What boxes to use, which items go where, how to transport whatever object of use that should be taken but it is quite large in size. My mom is a whiz at organization, my dad does everything else.

Soon enough, it was October 26. The day we were supposed to move into the house and have the pooja. .

A pooja is basically a ceremony that we Indians do to honor something. We do it a lot. Its kinda our thing.

Of course I was forced to wake up at like five or six in the morning. And let me tell you, I DO NOT like waking up early in the morning. Even on a regular day when I have to wake up for school, I just curl up and lay there like an idiot, then my dad barges into my room and rips the(four layers of)blankets of my body like a barbarian. Then I squeal like a pig and chuck a pillow at my dad leaving my dad howling like a demented crude savage. (I honestly don’t know how pillows can physically even hurt, this is my dads logic alright? So if there is anyone to judge, it is my father).

Anyway, that day I felt even more sluggish than usual. I had my backpack ready and sitting in a corner of my room along with a  change of clothes inside because after I showered I shimmied myself into traditional Indian attire for a girl like me. The top part of it had sleeve that got cut of at the end of my shoulder, SO NO WAY WAS I GONNA WALK OUT THERE WHEN IT IS BELOW SIXTY DEGREES AND MY HAIR IS WET UNLESS I AM WEARING AT LEAST FIVE EXTRAS LAYERS OF CLOTHING. But alas, I was brought down to only wear one jacket. OH THE HUMANITY. *obnoxious sigh*

Anyway, we drove to the house and honestly I was blown away. It was still dark outside(due to it being like six in the morning) i complained that it was freezing and I was wearing VERY thin socks with my flats so I started complaining that the fabric of my outfit was very thin and instead of making me warm it was making me even colder than I already was. But my mom just gave me her Mother Knows Best lecture:

Me: Ma, WHY DID YOU MAKE ME WEAR THIS IT IS SO FREAKING COLD HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO SURVIVE OH MY GOD WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO MEEEEEEEEEEEE.

My Mom: Kanmani, you rarely wear traditional clothing like this and this is a very special occasion so it is only proper. Besides, would you do it for me. Please? *gives me her very sad puppy dog eyes and pouts her lip*

Me: *breaking down mentally and trying to look away from her adorable sad eyes* ahhhhhhHhhhhH.

Me: Humph.

Me: Fine.

Anyway, we got there and climbed out, I shivered when the cold air hit me like that dodgeball that smacked me in the head during P.E. one time when I got way into into the game. I hopped out of the car and lost my balance briefly when the heel of my shoe got caught on a vine. This is why I HATE flats, they pinch, and hurt, leave your feet all sore, and are just a pain(pun unintended)to walk in. I shook of the vine and continued walking in the cold cold night(technically six am isn’t considered night, but it was dark out and you know what just deal with it alright?). My dad unlocked the door and we all walked in. Walking into the house in real life was way different than looking at pictures on my dads phone. The entire house was pristine and the wooden floors were so shiny that I could see my own reflection in then. Of course I managed to slip on the the wood but I caught myself HA TAKE THAT GRAVITY. Anyway, I walked around the house. The kitchen was amazing and everything had changed so much. The kitchen was amazing, my moms eyes literally lit up when she saw how beautiful it was.

I strolled down to my room and chucked-haha just kidding-placed, my backpack onto the ground. I admit, shuffling around in a puffy skirt with sequins on a polished hardwood floor with very thin, slippery socks is not a wise thing to do. Not my idea of a productive morning. Especially since I was still groggy with sleep. I rubbed my eyes and yawned, my little sister crawled to me so I picked her up. She wriggled in my grasp before she settled herself on my hip, her curls bounced when I took each step towards the center of the empty living room where my dad was seated on a gaunt sheet with intricate threading. I sat back down, trying my best to not get the fabric of my skirt caught on the sequins of the cloth.

I was shivering because of the cold rushing through the door which had a circular hole through it due to a new knob not being place there yet. Never underestimate the power of cold weather and a two by two hole in your door.

My dads friend is a Hindu priest(Vishwanadan uncle) so he decided to conduct the housewarming ritual that I don’t know, basically connects us to the house and good vibes for the house and the people living there(aka us). So he arrived and arranged a bunch of stuff on top of the fancy smancy blanket like fruits, coconuts, other stuff. Oh and bricks. Yep, yeah, totally normal. Well technically in my religion yeah and I am not trying to offend anyone so please don’t go all SHE HAS OFFENDED HER OWN RELIGION OH MY FINICKING GAHWD. No first of all its just a cut of speech god. Anyway I sat there of to the side holding my sleeping sister in one arm and keeping my hand at a specific angle because my dad wanted me to film the whole thing on his phone. My wrist was starting to hurt and my other hand was falling asleep. This was not good considering that fact that my first class was Spanish aka the class where I have to write to the point where my hands feel like they are going to spontaneously fall off.

What uncle told my parents to do was actually quite interesting to watch. He told them to repeat the mantras he said to them, or my mother to stand up and take a dried grass broom in her hand and rest it on my fathers shoulders, whilst with him still sitting down. Soon enough it was seven twenty five and I was starting to get quite anxious to change out of my clothes and get dressed for school. I looked behind me and into the large window and there stood Subi and her dad

My parents let them inside and then went to sit back down to continue, Subi and her dad entering hushed, knowing Thulasi was sleeping and not wanting to disturb the pooja and its continuation. Subi sat down beside. She being one of my best friends understood that I  was not very comfortable holding that phone up so long so she held the other end. My hand relaxing a little bit, we both watched until finally they were done. It was seven thirty five and I freaked out a bit. MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMAAAAAA  I AM GOING TO BE LATE WHAT THE HECK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH. I grabbed fistfuls of my own hair and almost ripped it all out. I sprinted to my room grabbed my floral print sweater dress thingy and went to the bathroom. I rushed to take of my skirt and blouse. The skirt fell down my legs and pooled around my ankles as I slipped on the dress and my gray trench coat. I strapped on my watch and put on my gray beret and put my backpack on my shoulders and ran out of the bathroom like I was being chased my the Chimera.

“KANMANI HURRY UP YOUR SORRY BUTT BEFORE WE’RE LA-*sees that I am ready*-that works too.”

She rolled her backpack behind her as she trailed behind me briskly. My mom shoved mouthfuls of idly(amazing South Indian food that I love to eat)and chutney into both of our mouths as we stepped outside. My parents waved goodbye as we walked to the gate. We both sprinted across the field(I still in flats letting my feet slowly die because of lack of bloodstream IN MY FEET)the smell of rain and fresh soil filling our noses. I had Spanish class so I didn’t have to go far. I waved goodbye to Subi and slowed down to a intermediate jog until I reached the front of the classroom. I stood there and tapped my foot until finally I saw my friends lumbering down the hall and walking towards me. I had my arms cross but I was still slightly panting from RUNNING ACROSS A FIELD WHILE STILL TIRED AND FILLED WITH SLEEP.

“What the heck happened? You look like you just ran across a football field without stopping once.” My friends smiled, amusement in there face.

“Dude I did.” I said my hands on my hip and my back pressed against the right white wall of the classroom with my knees crossing the other as there eyes bugged out, the question why? written in both of there deep blue eyes. “Dont worry the bell is about to ring anyway.” I said nonchalantly despite everything that I wanted to say before heading to class in the next forty six seconds. “No, I want to know now!” He said pouting like a spoiled child.

“Besides how do you know that the bell is gonna ring, its not like you can predict whats gonna happen in the next thirty seconds…. Wait can you?!?!?!” He said looking EXTREMELY confused. Whilst I still had a smug look on my face before holding up my hand counting down the second with my fingers.

“Three…Two…One….”

“No w-”

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG

“-ay” He said finishing off his sentence.

“What? I am physic.” I said in conclusion as our other friends crowded around us as I slung my backpack over my shoulder while I heard my friends chatter and ask me why my friends looked like they wanted to shove a brick down my throat. Señora Amerson suddenly opened the door saying “Buenas Dias” while everyone entered the classroom. I sat down in the desk while Brianna and Dillon sat in the desks on either side of me. Our task for the day was too go around the room and launch a conversation in Spanish with each person. On the list I received from Mrs. Amerson I had the names(I’m not gonna put the real names so here are the alternative and SUPER creative names I came up with:

  1. A Person
  2. Another Person
  3. A random person
  4. Person I do not know

So basically all we had to do was say a conversation with someone else in español. Simple. One person asked me:

” Que haces los fines de semana?”

(What do you like to do over the weekend)

I responded with:

“Me quedo en casa escuchado música y pienso demsaiad.”

I stay home, listen to music, and think too much.

Yup, basically sums up what I do in my free time or over the weekends. My parents call it wasting away, I call it quality time with me, myself, and I. (And binging every single Harry Potter movie in the existence of the universe. That is a priority as well.)Anyway, the next three periods were a blur for me really. Until Core when my English teacher randomly asks: “Is anyone’s family about to move into a new house or already has?”

Wow, how ironic.

I seemed to be the only person who had raised my hand in the entire class, and may I remind you, there is literally thirty other students in there. The classroom was dead silent as my face turned red, the teacher explained a hypothetical theory about the changes and differences someone’s mind will experience when living in a different space. I have nothing against my English teacher bu honestly, I didn’t think we needed to know this statement because this was ENGLISH CLASS, not PHYSCOLOGY. Everyone started asking me questions about my house and how I feel about it and if I like the house. HECK YEAH I LIKE THE HOUSE. English went smoothly after that. We wrote essays on what we think about society and blah blah blah blah BLAH. I went on with it I guess. I mean all we had to do was say what we think are the pros and cons of modern society and if it should or should not be made better.

All I gotta say is that everyone has there opinions and I’m not the person to judge those opinions.

Gods that essay was deep.

Anyway, I walked back home with Subi and we talked about random stuff like how much we hate our hair and how horrible the schools statewide tests are. Our brothers were behind us talking about stuff that I honestly am to lazy to explain. We walked across the bridge while Subi freaked out because she was afraid the bridge was gonna break and we would all fall into the canal underneath. But we didn’t and instead we were met with a gigantic U-Haul in front with stuff from our apartment in it, like boxes of books and stuff. I saw my dad and Subi’s dad unloading the truck and leaving it on the doorstep while our mom’s took the stuff and put them in each room. Subi and I grabbed our brothers and literally D R A G G E D  them to the door and ushered them in. Walking in ourselves and dropping our backpacks on the floor. We decided to help out my mom a bit and take care of my little sis while we did homework. We grabbed our stuff and went to my room where Subi sat down and was working on a some history project while I worked on science. Okay well more like doodling on the margins but still. My sister fell asleep in my arms so I wrapped her in a blanket and put her in a more comfortable position. All was quiet and peaceful until suddenly:

*CRASH*

*BANG*

*R I Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z Z *

Apparently the sky didn’t like us so it decided to go all demon and unleash its rage on the roof.

Actually it was a guy working on the roof but ya know. Same thing.

We both cringed and looked at my sister who was still sound asleep like a baby. No, wait that doesn’t work because she is a baby. Please excuse my inactive intelligence in hypothetical speech.  Of course me, Subi, and every other person in the house had to suffer and make sure there ears didn’t bleed through to there noses. My mom took Thulasi so she wont wake up, but dang that baby can probably sleep through the apocalypse.

Anyway, Subi had her lips in a grim line and she noticed my facial expressions mirrored hers. So we got up , dusted ourselves off, and went outside to see if we can distract ourselves. We went to the living room, random boxes strewed around the floor. Flowers petals scattered miscellaneously from the pooja that morning. Our moms were sitting on the ground, there backs leaning against the wall as they spoke. Subi and I went to the kitchen to see if there was anything to eat. I was literally starving because the only thing I had eaten the entire day was that small bite of idly from this morning(I was and idiot that day[well technically I always am but ya know]and decided to skip lunch and just hide in the library like a griffin and read.

Any who, my stomach grumbled as I walked around the shining kitchen. My mom had leftovers from food she made this morning for the pooja BUT the majority of it got stale from being out in the open. I spotted to little containers with a red velvet bundt cake and a chocolate bundt cake that Subi’s mom had bought. Our parents said we each can open one and eat some of it but try not to spoil our appetites. I grabbed a red velvet one(its my favorite)whilst Subi grabbed a chocolate one. We went to my room this time, which had piles of stuff in it. We sat down on the ground and ate tiny spoonfuls. My dad called us back out and said he was going to buy a pizza, so we all sat around at the living room and uhh, did….okay I admit, I forgot, because….. I didn’t really care at the moment. My dad bought the pizza and we sat around and ate, talked, laughed, normal stuff. You know. I could get used to this.

Four Months Later

Sunlight streams through the window, lighting up the entire room. I stretch, the cold morning air tingling against my face. I check the time on the white clock mounted on the wall next to the window. My bedroom is lit up with the bright light of the morning sunlight. I slowly get up, one foot clothed with a sock, the other bare, the sock it bared the night before tangled in the sheets. My feet land softy on the gray and white striped rug. I rub the sleep out of my eyes. Stretching once again. I grab my glasses from my wooden nightstand, the bottom shelf overflowing with books, a wooden crate filled with magazines like Popular Science, Time, and National Geographic, bookmarks strewn miscellaneously. I grab my IPad and place it on my ginormous wooden desk, an old-fashioned one with drawers and shelves on one level. Drawers on the underbelly of the desk as well. I grab the tiny water spritzer I keep on the windowsill and spray the plants and succulents on my desk.

I turn and walk out of my bedroom and to the bathroom to brush my teeth. The sky window high above letting in rays of the sun, making my hair seem to glow, my glasses glaring against the mirror. I finish brushing and cleaning out my braces. I go back into my room and tidy my bed. Greeted by my little sister who tries to reach my sketchbooks on my book stand. I pick her up and twirl around, our giggles filling the house. My brother is still asleep, my dad in the main bedroom on his laptop working, gives me a curt nod and a good morning. My mom is in the kitchen making tea, popping four pieces of toast in the toaster, the backdoor is propped open by a block of wood.

After breakfast, we all go to our huge backyard, my brother awake and energetic, dressed and already on his bike. My parents seated on the glass table, the large umbrella providing shade from the sun. My little sister bopped up and down as my mother cooed and sang nursery rhymes, my dad with his eyes closed, perking up to the constant sounds of birds tweets and chirps. I go over to the tall tree and put my foot in the bend. Pushing myself up, my elbows prop up on the strongest branch. I start thinking about how much it took to be here. How many people have helped, how much my parents did for this. Even after we moved in, there was still work to be done, my dad hired so many different people throughout the course of the month. But we have done so much and I can not imagine myself to be anywhere else.

I feel like the luckiest girl alive to know that we have a place meant just for us. We were able to make this dream, this dream we’ve slept with for so long, we have made it a reality. Our reality. Wishing something with happen isn’t going to work. Sure the mental positivity is a good thing and I have absolutely nothing against it but… Its the good, hard core work that really balances the structure. The blood and sweat that our house has in its aura varies by different peoples. I feel like I haven’t done that much in the entire process. But I do know one thing. You can’t underestimate the power of determination, trust, and intellectualism. I made it. We made it.

We made it all the way home.

Hi grandpa.

Today was the first time I had seen my dad cry. 

My dad wanted me to make a portrait of his father. My grandfather who had died before I was born. So I decided to ask my dad questions about him so I could incorporate some of that into the portrait. Suddenly my dad had said, “He died right in front of my eyes.” His voice soon faltered and his eyes glistened over. The glow of the tv reflected off of his welling eyes. He covered his eyes with his hand, his body shaking as he silently sobbed. I stood there for a second, in shock, my own eyes welling up.

This is so hard to write without crying. 

I hurried into the kitchen telling my mother what happened. She rushed over and sat beside him on the couch. My mom whispered sweet things and rubbed circles on my dads shoulder. I just stood there, my arm wrapped around my dad. Tears streaming down my face and blurring my vision. My dads shoulders stopped shaking, The empty silence subtle. The only sound heard was the soft sniffles of both my mother and I. 

My heart swelled at the thought of how much my dad is like my grandfather. Ambitious, cunning, smart, intelligent, kind. My mom says that my dad is like my grandfather and I grew up to be like both my dad and grandfather. Sometimes I think that I don’t deserve that title. I am like no one in my family. I can be selfish and stupid at times. I lack bravery in some tasks. I lack common traits that are needed in a loving daughter and prideful descendant. But one thing is for certain:

I am the proud daughter of my parents, the proud descendent of my grandparents. The proud member of this family. When I think of how blessed I am to have such an amazing family that believe in me. I just think that I need to make them proud. 

One time about a couple weeks ago I was walking across the fied from my house to meet my friends who were near the Spanish class building. Dillon was the only person there and he had his face in his hands. It was pounding rain, both of us were soaking wet. It might have been rain on his face but I swore I saw tears on his pale cheeks. 

“Dillon what’s wrong?” I asked my hand on his heaving shoulder. 

“My backpack, someone stole it and hid it somewhere.” He said his blue-green eyes scanning my face as he spoke to me in the sound of rain accompanying his voice.

“Well then we have to find it.” I said determined to help him.

“ I checked everywhere it could possibly be but it’s no where.” He said his voice miserable.

“We just have to search harder. Look in unlikely places.” I said as I plopped my backpack on a dry spot and took my jacket off. It was soaking wet so it wasn’t like it was gonna keep me warm anyway. 

I walked along the concrete trail with Dillon beside me. His face was stark. I squeezed his wrist reassuringly hoping it would help ease him. He looked at me and nodded before we continued on.

We stopped in front of the large green storage crates that belonged to the school. I honestly don’t know why they have storage crates in the first place but I wasn’t too worried about them at the moment. We went behind the crates where there was a smaller , a dent on the top with rainwater pooling in it. Now here’s the part that made me want to scream. The backpack we were looking for was on top of the humongous storage crate that was twice the size of me. I knew that Dillon had a fear of heights. He eyed the crate like he was going to strike it with lightning any minute. I myself am terrified of heights but at that moment I had to shove my fears in a box, seal it, and throw into a corner of my mind.

“Kanmani you don’t have to do this. We could just tell a teacher or the principal or something and they can find out who did it.” The blonde haired boy looked down a me as I shook my head no.

“Dillon that’s just gonna make everything complicated. Let’s just get your backpack down and go.” 

He nodded. But then I knew he was starting to regret that when I started climbing the smaller crate. The rain was making it hard to keep my  balance with the rain pouring and I was trying hard not to look down. My rain boots started slipping and Dillon had his arms out too catch me if I fell. I reached as much as I could to grab the handle of the backpack. 

Curse my short arms and legs.

I pulled hard on the backpack and my heart pounded in my ears as the backpack fell backwards. My hand discharging quickly so it didn’t tear of from the impact of the heavy backpacks fall. Dillon quickly grabbed his backpack then put his arms back out so I didn’t fall miserably. I closed my eyes and jumped. Two seconds late I was back on the ground with Dillons arms wrapped tightly around me. 

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you!!!!!!” He said hugging me.

“Dillon, I uh, still need to Um, BREATH.” 

Right at that moment I thought “ Grandpa, are you proud of me?”

Every time I do something I want to do so that if my grandfather was still alive he would like it.

I want to be just as awesome as he was. As my dad is. As I would like to be.

Goodnight grandpa.

I love you.

Which is better; Popularity, or dignity?

(sorry for the short post, more content in progress!)

Honestly I don’t understand the concept of popular in schools. Honestly whats the point anyway? There are literal cliques at my school and I don’t know about other schools but it is clear in mine. The eighth and seventh graders mainly. Fancy expensive shoes, dresses that show to much bust and doesn’t cover enough skin, dress just to get dress coded, sneaking there phones into class, cussing as if their mouths can’t produce cleaner words. Those girls with there eyebrows picked to the point where that facial hair looks like something that should have been painted on. So much lip gloss that I honestly think half of them are brain dead.

I have to go to P.E. third period every other day. Therefore that class cuts into my seventh grade lunch so I have to go to eight grade lunch. A bunch of my other friends are in that class as well so I am never ever alone. But the problem is, eight graders always invade our table. To make it even worse, their the eight graders that talk back to the administrators when they get in trouble. Their the eight graders that try to pick fights with sixth graders. There that group that sneak there phones and ditch school.

Yay, lucky us.

Those eight graders just make me want to rip my hair out, grab a sledgehammer, and hit them all with it. I can tell my friends feel the same because the instant those juveniles hit our table we grab our backpacks and just leave. But of course there was that one day where they decided to just barge in and ruin our day;

Me: Hey guys!

My friends: Hey!

Kate: Hey girl!

Dillon: Whats up?!

Thalia: DID YOU SEE THE NEW PERCY JACKSON AND HARRY POTTER FAN ART OH MY FINICKING GODS

Everyone else: . . .

Me: Chill girl! Oh my gods the most amazing thing happe- oh gods, in coming.

Dillon: Here come your walking, talking, sources of irritation.

Everyone: 3…2…1…

Eight graders: YOOOOOOO WASSUP DUDES

I suddenly just feel a tug and I turn and see a bunch of girls wearing crop tops and WAY to much eyeliner holding locks of my hair. They tell me comments like: OH MY GOD YOU SHOULD TOTALLY LIKE DYE YOUR HAIR. or DANG girl those some nice waves you got there. I roll my eyes at them and try to maneuver away. Dillon grabs my shoulders and leads me away from the group of volatile eight graders and we both walk back, dragging our other friends with us.  Without my friends holding me back I swear I would have like done something like knock em all unconscious.

After that day I guess that got bored of us and started torturing other seventh and eight graders.

My friends and I just like to ignore those eight graders as much as we possibly can.

This is what i love so much about my friends, they are so quirky and hilarious, each day coming home from school just thinking about them makes me smile like an idiot. Each of us are so different in so many was but we all just fit together like a huge jigsaw puzzle. Are group is always growing. We’re all diverse too. From race, religion, personality, gender, sexuality. You name it. We’re all that one group that is always laughing about something stupid. Or one of us starts snapping our fingers randomly  and then suddenly we become a band. Stopping our feet, clapping our hands, playing and instrument, singing all together. Its just…. Awesome.

Dillon: *starts snapping fingers*

Me: *sly smile*

Everyone: Aww yeah you go girl!

Dillon: *completely oblivious*

Me: *obnoxious deep breath*

Dillon: Aww yeah! *snaps out beat*

(THESE LYRIC ARE NOT MINE THEY ARE FROM THE AMAZING MUSICAL HAMILTON AND THERE IS NO WAY IN HECK THAT I OWN IT SO YEAH COPYRIGHT AND STUFF ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO LIN MANUEL MIRANDA)

Me: I AM NOT THROWING AWAY MY SHOT

I AM NOT THROWING AWAY MY SHOT

EH YO IM JUST LIKE MAH COUNTRY IM YOUNG SCRAPPY AND HUNGRY AND IM NOT THROWING AWAY MY SHOT

IMMA GET A SCHOLARSHIP TO KINGS COLLEGE I PROBLY SHOULDN’T BRAG BUT DAG I AMAZE AND ASTONISH

THE PROBLEM IS I GOTTA LOTTA BRAINS BUT NO POLISH I GOTTA HOLLER JUST TO BE HEAR WITH EVERY WORD I DROP KNOWLEDGE IMMA DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH A SHINY PIECE OF COLD TRYIN TO REACH MY GOALS MY POWER OF SPEECH UNIMPEACHABLE

ONLY NINETEEN BUT MY MIND IS OLDER THESE NEW YORK CITY STREETS GET COLDER I SHOULDER EVERY BOULDER EVERY DISADVANTAGE I LEARNED TO MANAGED I DONT HAVE A GUN TO  BRANDISH I WALK THESE STREETS FAMISHED

THE PLAN IS TO FAN THIS SPARK INTO A FLAME BUT DANG ITS GETTIN DARK SO LET ME SPELL OUT MY NAME

I AM THE

Everyone else: *joining in* A-L-E-X-A-N-D-E-R  WE ARE MEANT TO BE

ALL OF US TOGETHER: YEAH BOY!

Oh man I love these guys.

I see so many people that I grew up with suddenly just change completely. That one girl that always shared her cookies with me suddenly mocking sixth graders who are too scared to fight back. That one guy who always seemed so bold now trying to hide in the shadows. People who were so innocent suddenly turned unvirtuous. They all started hanging out with the so called populars. There hearts and brains turning dark.

All I want to say to them is:

Do yourself a favor and save your dignity. Keep that little innocence you have in you, find better friends who treat you well, let who you truly are shine through. Feel what its really like to be loved.

What Im trying to say is that there are people out there that are perfect for you. Dont risk hanging out with people that will legitimately hurt you and throw you away and leave you with nothing. Be with the people that make you laugh until you have tears in your eyes, that appreciate you and who you are, accept you for who you are, who are there for you thick and thin, who just make you.

Happy.

I’m not popular

but I have amazing friends.

I’m not rich

but I have everything I need.

I may not be liked

but I know I‘m loved.

Just because I we have a different path doesn’t mean we’re lost.

Her life is her art.

Okay before I start, look at the image below.

 

 

Honestly I want everyone’s opinion on this because I, uhhh, I kinda, maybe, uh, drew…that. Yeah uh, so, umm what do you think? (Please leave a comment down below because I really want maybe some constructive criticism or another persons opinion you know?) This took me at least four hours to complete.

Including basic sketching, facial extents. positioning, undercoat/overcoat, base drafts, color testing, character dynamics, eye dynamics, figure shadowing, body shading, color dynamic process, creasing, shading, muscle development, blurring, smudging, positioning, hue saturation, brightness, recoloring, curving, color balance, sharpen extenuating, motion blur, opacity, and of course the Gaussian blur.

By the way, this drawing is of Percy Jackson one of my favorite book characters. He is a demigod of the Big Three, meaning his father is Poseidon, his three cousins are children of Hades or Zeus, two other very powerful Greek gods(I am currently working on a similar drawing of Annabeth Chase, another character from the book who is a Daughter of Athena and Percy’s best friend turned girlfriend.)  I decided to draw him because he and other characters from the book are very influential to me. Percy had a tough life even before finding out he was a demigod. He kept getting kicked out of schools, he had a abusive stepfather who *cough*drank*cough*alot*, he had terrible grades, his mother had a minimum wage and was working two part time jobs, he was constantly bullied, only had one friend, and was constantly wondering whether or not he would ever belonged somewhere where he could be accepted. Have I made you cry yet? Okay lets continue!

Ever since hitting Camp Half Blood(aka the only place safe for demigods and satyrs alike. As well as the place I want to live in besides Hogwarts.) He had discovered he inherited powers to control water(you know control tsunamis and cause them. bend water, breath underwater, you know the normal stuff)he meets his new best friend(and crush but she doesn’t know that yet)Annabeth Chase and goes on a quest with her so he can convince Hades and Zeus that he did not steal Zeus’s lightning and he shouldn’t suffer a a slow and painful death and watch everyone he ever loved die in front of him and disintegrate. May I remind a twelve year old kid had to deal with ALL OF THIS.

OH AND THERE’S MORE.

For the next four books(in the last one he is sixteen)he goes on a bunch of quests, saves a bunch of people, fights in a war, almost watches his best friend die on his account, sees that a bunch of other demigods have died in the war, declines immortality, holds the sky, fights a bunch of gods, gets ignored by his dad, almost dies a couple of times, totally normal. After the PJO books ended I discovered that there was a second series. AKA MY HAPPINESS. It is called Heroes of Olympus and basically Percy and Annabeth are dragged into another prophecy:

Seven half bloods shall answer the call

To storm or fire the world must fall

An oath to keep with a final breath

And foes bear arms to the doors of death.

Hera(THE GREEK GODDESS I WISH WOULD FALL INTO TARTARUS HERSELF)wipes Percy’s memory cleaner than a whiteboard, he stumbles upon a Roman demigod camp called SPQR where he is turned praetor and meets Frank and Hazel a son of Ares and a daughter of Hades. They go on this epic quest to find Leo Valdez, Piper McLean, Jason Grace, and Annabeth Chase. The other four demigods in the prophecy.  OH YEAH AND THERE’S SOMETHING ELSE. Percy, even with his memory being wiped out by THE MOST POWERFUL GODDESS IN OLYMPUS, he still remembers Annabeth. Every single bit about her. See this is how loyal and loving he is and he sacrifices so much. Oh my god every time I think of it I just want to just AAAAHHHHHHH THERE SO CUTE TOGETHER OH MY GODS WHY.

you know, there’s that tiny dark part of me thats just a full on Aphrodite girl who fangirls over every cute couple in sight.

Anyway. Percy and Annabeth FINALLY reunite in the Mark of Athena. Annabeth befriends Reyna, the other Roman Praetor. They both try working together to reunite both demigod camps to fight against Gaea. But Athena just had to pick Annabeth to go into a pit of death and darkness to retrieve the Athena Parthenos so the entire demigod population doesn’t die. No pressure right?

This fandom is making me insane.

The reason Athena picked Annabeth to follow the Mark of Athena is because Annabeth is the most powerful and wittiest Athenian demigod. Percy doesn’t want Annabeth to leave because they had just reunited and he did not want to risk losing his other half once more. But alas, against Percy and the rest of the Sevens wishes Annabeth goes onto her quest that is basically a suicide mission. After she recovers the sacred statue, gets interrogated by ghosts, breaks her ankle, survives falling at least seventy feet, and survives being eaten alive by spiders the size of fire trucks stacked on top of each other, she is safely in the arms of the other demigods of the prophecy. But she herself has her feet tangled into strong cobwebs and gets dragged into the pit of tartarus. Percy fortunately catches Annabeth but he is dangling on a ledge himself, he refuses to leave Annabeth so he falls into the landscape equivalent of a hellfire with Annabeth.

Honestly I wanted to rip the authors head of and throw it into an open fire because I was just like WHY U NOT WANT MY TWO FAVORITE CHARACTERS TO STRIVE. But i am to lazy to tell the rest of the series so I will just spoil it.

OOHH CLIFFHANGER

(BTW They survive)

So yeah, every time I just think about this specific characters story and instantly get happier when I feel like a failure. I have been struggling for quite a while to find my own art style but I have been practicing constantly, trying and trying because, my art is my life. Without my life would be boring and I would be nothing. So yeah thats basically it and this is probably going to be a daily thing with me posting my drawings. But there is a big problem now

Art is so vast.

But the human mind is oh so narrow.

Q and A!

(Any books, or pop culture related things are not mine, lyrics to the song feautred in this post as well is not mine. All rights go to Lin Manuel Miranda.)

Okay so a couple of my friends who view this blog have literally been BEGGING me to do a Q and A post on this blog. I mean the literal first thing that can slip into a conversation is

Hey.

Hey

Hey

”You know I have been thinking…..”

”oh gods no

YOU SHOULD YOU KNOW ERM WRITE A Q AND A ON YOUR BLOG YA KNOW. EVERYONE DOES IT

(@_@) Why me.

My thirteenth birthday is also coming up so I thought why not?

So they suggested the questions I should answer so, hear goes nothing: *DEEP BREATH*

Whats your Hogwarts House?

Have I not made that obvious already? RAVENCLAW. According to Pottermore and of course my friends who have read Harry Potter as well.

Whats a song that most represents you?

Oh my gods this question. WHO ASKED THIS. Okay sorry. For me the song Non Stop from Hamilton most represents me because of the lyrics and the personality traits it portrays. For example a lyric in the song is “How do you write like you’re running out of time? How do you write like you need it to survive?” Here is the audio to the song. PLEASE LISTEN.

Another line from the song is Why do you assume your the smartest in the room? This definitely associates with me because pride is one of my worst flaws and its really hard for me to not go with it. Plus here I am running a blog, doodling every chance I get and sketching like a maniac so yes I do work like I am running out of time. Procrastination is like my hypothetical nightmare. NEXT QUESTION!

Do you prefer frozen yogurt or ice cream?

I like both equally but my favorite flavor of ice cream is Mint Chocolate Chip and my favorite froyo flavor is Raspberry Cheesecake.

Have you broken any bones?

Thanks the gods no.

What is your dream job?(Excluding careers like doctor, policeman, firefighter, marine, etc.)

Most likely journalist or run my own art company. I know its a risk but writing and art are one of my biggest passions.

Whats something that you are trying to start getting the hang of?

Umm.. Animating actually. I currently use Procreate just for drawings and sketches of future art but I have started a few pieces to maybe start of a simple animatic or something.

What is your Zodiac sign?

I don’t really believe in that stuff(no offense to anyone who does out there)but based on my birthday I am a Pisces. But based on my characteristics I am a Scorpio or Leo.

Are you a muggle, mudblood, half blood, or pure blood?

I am a mudblood because neither of my parents have read Harry Potter(yet)but since my dad is remotely interested I would say that I am a Half Blood.

If you could change your name what would it be?

Um Calypso because it seems like such a pretty name to me. My name is just exotic and hard for people to say and spell in general.

Do you prefer books or movies?

Books. Obviously.

Which is better Harry Potter or Percy Jackson?

I am not answering this. Too painful.

What is something that sounds really stupid but you still want to do?

Hug every person in the entire world who is worthy of getting hugged.

What are your favorite book series’s?

Harry Potter, Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus, Across the Universe(that is technically a trilogy but whatever)Mortal Instruments, Hunger Games, and Divergent.

What book are you currently reading?

The Atlas OfForgotten places

Are you named after anyone?

Not necessarily, no.

What are your favorite Musicals?(Top Four)

  1. Hamilton
  2. Dear Evan Hansen
  3. Be More Chill
  4. Heathers

What are the first things that you notice about people?

Eyes, hair, and voice.

Are you sarcastic?

Your kidding right? WHO DO YOU THINK I AM. SARCASM IS THE DEFINITION OF MY BEING. SEE THATS SARCASMS RIGHT THERE.

Favorite Smell?

Old/New books.

What are/is your favorite school subject(s)?

English, Science, History, and Spanish

Fears?

Parasites, heights, drowning, losing people.

Last song you listened to:

Don’t – Ed Sheeran

Something you really want:

World Peace

Favorite Band?

Imagine Dragons

Something you day dream about and its hard to snap out of:

Traveling the world.

One word to describe you:

Loyal, or ambitious

Do you like Twilight?

I read the first few pages and I chucked the book across the room.

Favorite Color(s)?

Hale Navy Blue, Sea Green, and any shade of grey.

Whats a book you want to read really bad right now?

Greys Anatomy

Sugar Cookies or Snickerdoodles?

Snickerdoodles. HANDS DOWN

At school are you lazy or unconventional?

Neither! What kinda question is this?

Do you participate in class or just sit in the back of the classroom?

Depending on my mood I can be both or neither.

Do you know French?!

Oui oui mon ami Je ’m appelle Kanmani.

Are you stubborn?

This is not even a question. In my case its a basic statement.

Do you always smile in pictures?

Depends on my mood.

What is something you wish you were gifted at doing?

Ability to sing without sounding like a dysfunctional goat.

What is your biggest quality?

It isn ’t really a quality but I can swoop in when people are in a situation that is hard to get out of alone.

Eye color?

80% cacao, 20% dark chocolate.

Most distinct birthmark?

I have one on my knee that looks like a bushel of grapes.

Who has left the biggest impact on your life?

My Parents, my grandparents, my friends, my relatives.

Are you tall?

I am embarrassingly the opposite.

Do yo have a phobia?

I have a tad bit of arachnophobia.

Are you strong?

I can carry at least fifteen to thirty library books when I want to yet I can’t lift my six year old brother without almost pulling a muscle and close to dislocating a joint.

An item you can’t live without.

A pencil.

Favorite Element from the periodic table?

Phosphorous

Favorite character(s)from Harry Potter? 

Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger, and Hagrid

Favorite kind of cake?

I love strawberry cheesecake. I don’t really like chocolate cake though.

Favorite mythical creature.

A hippocampus or a niffler.

Favorite place to go that is nearby?

The library.

Favorite drink?

Strawberry lemonade. Or water.

Favorite tool for drawing?

A fine tip ink pen or a water pen.

What do you look for in a friend?

They have to be kind and have a good attitude. They should never make others feel bad about themselves. They should also have a good sense of humor and a good heart.

Favorite amphibian?

I FREAKING LOVE TURTLES.

So that is all of the questions!! Thanks for reading and there will be more posts leading up to my birthday coming up very very soon! Bye everyone!!!!!

You may say I am a dreamer, but I am not the only one. – John Lennon

My fingers and jaw are currently recovering from working the entire day because they are now about to fall of from using them so harshly throughout the day due to my undying interest of playing a long metal instrument with holes and keys all over the thing. Yep if you haven’t guessed I had I concert yesterday. In fact I originally wanted to title this postHow to train your lungs to produce more air while you use your mouth and fingers and let them die slowly .But I thought better of it and realized that freaking out viewers is the best way to lose them so… Yeah. Anyway, all the three hour rehearsals were what were supposed to lead up to the big concert at the high school we would perform at.  Of course my pores were literally excreting so much that I had to constantly wipe my hands on my black jeans and try not to ruin my white performance shirt while sitting on the hard chair next to the other flutes in the section.

Okay but first lets fast forward to about a half hour before.

My dad and I parked in the empty school lot, my dad questioning why I dragged him their so early, and I questioning my own IQ level and if I should be held back a grade merely because of my terrible listening skills. I should as my pediatrician if I have ADD or ADHD. Hahaha Just kidding. I climbed out twisting the fabric of my JUST IRONED SHIRT from habit. (When I get nervous or anxious some part of me is doing something, my eyes darting back anf forth between a specific area, or I might sweat profusely and my face starts to heat up, or I start to chew on my lip or my fingertips, I also start tapping my toes or my knees start bopping up and down, too much info, yeah kay. Sorry) Anyway I looked around the parking lot and cursed under my breath realizing that NO ONE ELSE WAS THERE. My dad gave me a dirty look as I laughed nervously and shrugged my shoulders.  Of course we had to find the gymnasium because that was where we were going to start playing and warming up. Or at least thats what I thought.

We walked through the cold, as I exhaled, puffs of my breath appeared in front of me like a dragons flares coming from its nostrils. My dad started talking saying it was actually a good idea to come early to avoid confusion. I really liked the campus of the school and the gym was HUMONGOUS. The plywood was bright and there were chairs setted up in rows for the bands(middle school honor band{the band moi is in}then the high school honor band after us)I snapped out of my daze realizing that the band director, the conductor, and the district music teachers were all looking at me like I was crazy. They looked quite concerned until I cleared my throat and gave a small smile and wave which they received graciously and all beamed back at me. The conductor patted my shoulder as my dad exchanged a smile and nod with the band director and the conductor before following me to the large bleaches. My black flats made a distinct squeaking sound as i shuffled across the polished wood floor like it was a gigantic door mat waiting to be stepped on. Oh one more thing that I forgot to mention in the last paragraph and a half:

I

was

the

only

band student

there.

How embarrassing.

I tried not to make i contact with anyone and prayed that no one else would see me. My dad sat on the bleachers and got out his DSLR camera and started tinkering with the modules and stuff. But then he just HAD to ANNOUNCE TO THE WORLD:

Kanmani lets take a selfie on my phone! Come on put your flute together and hold it up!

Dad, your kidding right?!

Nope.

UHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAHHHHHHHHH screw you.

HAHAHAH.

My dad had the brilliant idea of standing in a way so our backs faced the rest of the world behind us and I honestly felt like I was going to hyperventilate when the sole of my shoe hit the back of the bleachers in front of the ones we were STANDING ON.

Yes genius.

I sat back down with my heart racing and smacked my dad on the arm as he just shrugged it off as if being smacked with unlimited force is the infinitesimal predicament he could be in. Okay maybe it was but give me a break alright?  Soon other students started trickling in, sporting the same expression I wore when realizing the time and amount of people there were in the place I was supposed to be in at this supposedly correct time. I hopped one by one on each set of bleachers with my flute and music in one hand. I gave my dad a look like,

Igottagetdowntherebecausetheyareprobablygonnatakeustoplayinthethemusicroomforthisschoolandwarmupfortheconcertsoyeahdontfreakoutandliterallysendasearchpartyformesoyeahbye.

A lady led me and the other music students into a small music room close by and everyone was just in there warming up, light chatter filling the room. I felt a tap on my shoulder so I turned around and greeted by the smiling face of one of my best friends Thalia. She had her alto sax strapped to her neck and her fingers were resting on the keys of the the brass. We started talking about random stuff like Percy Jackson fanfics that we want to write, Harry Potter conspiracies, and Hamilton stuff that we both want to binge our money on though we both have to resist. Soon a teacher comes in and starts putting songs on a speaker in the background, the atmosphere electrifying.

Soon A Thousand Years starts playing and everyone is starting to sing along to the song:

I can do it

I will get through it

But I am only human

And I bleed when I fall down

I am only human

And I crash and break down

Then Gasoline by Halsey starts playing:

You cant wake up this is not a dream

You are part of a machine you are not a human being

But then… Hamilton starts playing and….Well.. When Thalia and I are even in a ten foot radius of any place playing Hamilton its. A blur:

Soon The Schuyler Sisters starts playing:

Thals and Me: *GASP*

Thals and Moi: IVE BEEN READIN COMMON SENSE BY THOMAS PANE SOME SAY THAT IM INTENSE OR IM INSANE YOU WANT A REVOLUTION I WANT A REVELATION SO LISTEN TO MY DECLARATION.

WE HOLD THESE TRUTHS TO BE SELF EVIDENT THAT ALL MEN ARE CREATED EQUAL AND WHEN I MEET THOMAS JEFFERSON IMMA COMPEL HIM TO INCLUDE WOMAN IN THE SEQUEL

Everyone else in the room: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Thals and Me: WORK

Yeah that moment probably made everyone else in that room question why they were in the same area as to crazy Hamilton fangirls that shouldn’t be exposed to anything anymore.

IT WAS WORTH IT.

After that adrenaline rush and(trying to convince the others that we certainly were NOT mental and should be sent to a hospital for special needs care)we said hi to Arwen and our other friend Damia. We continued singing along to every song playing(unfortunately for everyone else in the room)until finally the band director walked in and told us to file into the gym and into our seats. Of course I had to try not to bang my flute into the backs of my peers who are at least a foot taller than me. How is that possible, I do not know anymore. We entered and arranged ourselves into our proper chairs, my dad was still seated at the top of the bleachers and accompanied with Arwen’s father. Both of them probably talking to each other about the mechanism of there high-def cameras. I took out my sheet music and placed them on the stand. in my head I whistled at how nice the stands were. WAY better than the ones we use at school.

We warmed up as a band with simple exercises  to warm up our instruments(literally). Then soon it was time to start our first song: Drunken Sailor. Honestly we sounded better than how we sounded in every rehearsal combined and I could tell the rest of the audience was  S H O O K. 

I was sad when we finished all of our other songs and we bowed. But I did have something else to look forward to that night. Watching the high school Honor Band. Now let me tell you something, when the words Honor, and High School are in the same title, you better believe that the people participating in that elite group should not be underestimated. Alright, pace youselves, I feel a rant coming on…

OH MY GODS THEY SOUNDED SO WHAT THE HECK I DID NOT EXPECT THAT AT ALL THE BASS DRUM SOUNDS SO GOOD AND LOUD AND AMAZING WHAT THE HECK AND THE FLUTES ARE ACTUALLY AUDIBLE AND THE TRUMPETS AND THE BASSOON AND THE CLARINETS AND THE TIMPANY AAAAAAHHHHHHH. THEY SOUNDS SO GOOD ARWEN ARWEN ARWEN ARE YOU HEARING THIS OH MY FINICKING GODS THIS IS. I FEEL LIKE A WIMP RIGHT NOW.

ajjknsvdlnvlnfsdlv;nfnjdf;lnvsnv;snvlsnv;lnsvjksn

AAAAAHHHHUUUHHHH

I probably gripped Arwens forearm a tad bit to tight because there were literally splotches of red on her arm. I am ashamed. Honestly(in my opinion)my honor band versus the high school band is basically like a comparison of a fifth grade beginning band versus the San Francisco Symphony. On the car ride home my heart was still racing and my mind was just a puddle of concentrated goo. It was obvious my dad felt the same. I should start wearing a tag around my neck saying: Under the Influence of Good Music .

Hey maybe then people wont underestimate me.

The point of this post is really to make you understand the music makes lust makes life at least a hundred times better. When you are happy you enjoy the beat, when you are sad, you understand the lyrics. Music can make you feel like you can, do anything. Playing an instrument is even more amazing. Every time you play you get this feeling that makes you feel…Electric. Like a hellfire was let loose into your veins. I always pity those people who only play an instrument for like a year and then give a stupid excuse like Oh I hate the teacher, or I am way to busy, or I sound horrible thats why I gave up. Just because you have those excuses does not give you the right to give up. Progression takes time, its not like you’ll sound like Mozart the instant you learn how to read and write sheet music. If so, then whoever thought that is a incestuous bastard. I know that sounds a bit too harsh but this just pisses me off so much. Yeah sorry about that *cough* NOT *cough*.

Music is something I literally cant live without. I write with music playing in my headphones or on speakers blaring through the whole house. My siblings are influenced by music on my behalf.  Music is literally like my life okay. (okay and art and books), and its a fact that I listen to music more than I listen to my parents.

Anyway signing off for now but, don’t take what I say fo granted. If you do, you are going to regret it. So yeah.

Later.

Headphones  O N

World  O F F

She counts the stars and calls them by name.

So just recently, my English teacher assigned us a book report for this semester that seemed quite different from our other past book reports. We were all supposed to choose a book that had NOT been developed into a movie. Of course I started geeking out(unlike my other classmates)and went straight home grabbed my iPad and scrolled my list of books that I read already and looked for the ones that hadn’t been interpreted into a blockbuster film.( I wrote to Steven Spielberg and if you don’t know who he is[i doubt that you do]he is like THE BEST DIRECTOR EVER AND IS ONE OF MY IDOLS: Heres a picture:

Image result for steven spielberg

 

So awesome oh my gods. Anyway back to the post)

Of course, if you know me well enough, THAT LIST OF BOOKS IS EXTREMELY LONG. And I started that what, a year ago probably. My eyes lingered on the title of one of my favorite trilogy ever- Across the Universe by Beth Revis. I instantly start my eight inch by eight inch poster and finish the pretend letter i had to write about why this movie should be produced. Remember its PRETEND. Anyway this is a very short letter in my opinion but I showed it too my teacher and my teacher liked it so it was all good.

Oh my god.

I just realized.

this report.

is due

in

two

months.

What the heck?!

Wellp that was disappointing, but anyway read on and yeah. Whatever. Dont judge me. Plz.

Dear Mr. Spielberg,

Recently I have started reading many sci-fi novels that seem to have a vibe and feel that truly encapsulated me into the story. Of course I myself(when I capture the spare time)enjoy reading many books but tend to have a bit of trouble picturing such convoluted situations in my mind do to the many details that seem to yet be the key to understanding either the story, the characters, and or the setting.

Recently(from a close friend’s eager suggestion, and from my own willingness)I bought the science fiction/drama series Across the Universe. This trilogy truly made me understand the importance of truth, sacrifice, and of course keeping a steady state of mind and composure when in a situation that may or may not affect the nearing future. The author Beth Revis wrote the emotions of the two astounding characters Amy and Elder, separating both their point of views in alternating chapters in the book.

Hundreds of years in the future, scientists and engineers built a massive ship by the name of Godspeed to go into deep space to a earth-like planet. On board are over 100 settlers from earth who were willing to be frozen into a capsule and put to sleep for three hundred years so they can awake to be greeted by the new planet they are to soon discover. The population of the cryogenically frozen span from doctors to scientists. Essential people needed when discovering the new planet(to study specimens, in case of finding other life and in the need to fight or if sudden death occurs and the cause of the death thus the need to investigate it, etc).

Amy Martin, seventeen year-old daughter of a military officer(her father) and a bio scientist(her mother)decides to leave her life behind on earth and go aboard the ship so she can stay with her parents though he parents let her decision hers and hers only. She is leaving behind her friends, her love, and any chance of every having a normal life(as well as other elements she starts to miss later in the story).But Amy wakes up early a few hundred years without knowing how or why. She finds herself amongst a  utopian like society, the people born on the ship over the generations. Soon she meets Elder. The ships future leader and the only other teenager on board. Amy resents being in a ship and yearns for a chance to be released, to feel normal again. She and Elder are in a race against time as they must solve a murder mystery and save the ship that they are aboard which is housing more than six hundred citizens, and prevent it from breaking down a third through the journey in space. But Elder is keeping a deadly secret from Amy that could threaten her future, as well as corrupt the close relationship Elder built with Amy. But there’s something both teenagers don’t know about the ship that they are currently aboard. A secret only the affiliation supporting this degenerating ship seems to know but for Amy and Elder to soon find out.

I think this would be a movie worth filming because it shows the true struggle when someone sacrifices so many things just for one chance. Almost everything hidden from the readers in the start of the book are revealed spontaneously close to the closing of the first book and the starting of the second one. It shows the growing relationship between two teenagers from completely different worlds-literally. Amy learns to finally accept the fact that this is what she needs to get used to, while in the meantime Elder already has though he is still realizing his emotional awareness of his newfound partner in both the mysteries they must uncover-and life.

I hope you take this story into consideration and work for the film because this is truly a story that should be portrayed in the form of a motion picture.

 

Sincerely,

 

Kanmani Harivenkatesh

So, um, yeah. That basically it so uhh. Bye.