It was a beautiful summer day in the vast farmland of Texas. Our farmhouse was just redecorated and is looking great! My family raises livestock and since the drought, we can’t raise much cattle anymore, so our money dropped, so now my big brother, who used to work at the farm four years ago during high school over the summer, got accepted into UT, graduated as a computer scientist and lives with us. Now works about an hour’s drive away at some super computer company. Ma says that it is breaking our family apart, that modern job he has, but this story isn’t about my Ma and Pa and Big-Brother, it’s about me, and my life of falling forever, in the dry ocean of the Texas Plains, or it isn’t… exactly. More like rising, more like falling.

I find myself gone, nothing was near me, nothing. All was the color black, although, you could protest that black is a shade, I agree; but this–this darkness, was light, yet dark, not gray, but not white. Light could shine on it but there was no alter in the color, for example; when the sun shines on your nice, new green winter jacket, it doesn’t change to blue, it just gets lighter, like when the sun shines on a black jacket, you could say it gets lighter, but no, it doesn’t, it turns grey, but I wouldn’t even say turning grey, because it is grey, just a dark grey. This black was a color, it had darkness, it had lightness, it was like a fourth color that our eyes can see, like red, blue, and green. It was new, and it was a paint for my imaginary easel inside my mind. A rainbow of color, hidden color, like a sword sheathed from the eyes of wonder, “What is a new color?” they say, and I now know. I know real Black, but not darkness, the color black was never evil, although it symbolized evil, darkness, hiding, demons, the color black is beautiful, like a shy sunset. The color is misunderstood, I concluded.

In my world of color, I couldn’t feel anything, not the clothes on my body that I wore, but I could feel my hands touching, and my shoes off the ground. I found this odd sensation… relaxing, like I could sleep forever. It was new. I almost closed my eyes, but at the last second, I saw a door open. My eyes opened like a flash of lightning. My floating self, touched the ground, but I felt little weight and heard no footsteps. Maybe I can sneak in a see what is up, I thought to myself. My green sneakers hit the black ground, it was smooth, almost like metal. I ignored the oddness of the black grass that felt like iron or a smooth, carbon fiber and sprinted as fast as I could before the door closed. I felt no pain when I reached my limits the existed on Earth here, I just kept on running, expecting, but feeling no sweat the normally would have trickled down my forehead and off my cheek, splashing onto the ground. I finally reached the now closing door, tumbling through the exit, expecting to feel the ground underneath my chest that would have been flat on the floor from the mighty fall that I took, now was floating in motions, as you call it.

Surprise conquered my emotions, rising to the top, and bringing along Fear and Anxiety. I didn’t know what was happening, all I could think of was… Falling? Rising? Or both? This world was unimaginable, new colors, shifts in gravity, what else? I began to fall into White, landing on a white ramp that looked like opaque quartz, sliding back, feeling a shock wave of expected pain travel through my body starting emergency reflexes to stop my moving, but I couldn’t stop. My subconscious mind was fighting with my conscious mind. I don’t want to stop, I told myself, but then I had a thought of something that wasn’t either of those thoughts, it was small but it was, What you think isn’t real, what you think your conscious mind is, may be something else, stop the fighting. I knew, that was my conscious mind, but I couldn’t stop… or the voice driving me forward and fighting for what it wrong was stronger than me, it was like a battle of a titan versus a dying lion. Although the lion has a good heart, it was dying and can never fight something young and powerful. New, was the lion’s enemy. New, the name of the titan who is about to eat him, but New isn’t evil, just like Old the lion isn’t all good. New was angry, and eats when he is disturbed, but there was no food, because Old was angry at New, and took all the food. Then there was Me, stuck in the middle of Old and New, fighting, like friends fighting you, and your parents yelling at you. Me was the one in charge of New and Old, and “I” made sure that everything was in order, but “I” failed. I failed, causing disruptions in Old, who stole the food from New who made Myself unable to stop. Myself is the leader, myself made all the decisions and was one of a kind. Myself wasn’t like You, or Him. Myself was like her name, Cadence, or the name Myself called her.

I snapped back into reality, or what “I” thought what it was. I never stopped, but hit the opaque quartz wall, falling into… Water? The water wasn’t water, it just looked like it, but when I landed in it, it made no noise, like what was usual in this unreal reality, but the feeling, it was like syrup, but wasn’t sticky. It was comforting, soft like silk, but watery like lemonade. I kept falling, and what I thought was drowning was just me not breathing, but to think of it, the entire time, ever since I arrived, I wasn’t breathing. I never took a single breath in this world. I fell, deeply into the water, and soon.. I felt a lack of oxygen, I was scared, I thought I was going to die, I wanted the arguing in my head to stop Keep falling, you can get through this, New kept saying. No, don’t! Swim up! Old was growling. I couldn’t swim up, I was trapped, nowhere to breathe, no space to wander. It was dark, there was no beautiful black, or surprising white, there was only fear, anxiety. I remembered my parents, Where are they? I thought. From all the arguing and fighting going inside my head, I heard a small whisper, calling out something. I listened. You are okay, swim out, but don’t use your muscles. Use Me, Myself, and I to swim away from the battles inside you, don’t use actions of the physical world, use actions of the mind.
I heard, I closed my eyes, imagined a river, and me stuck in it, unable to get out, with New and Old telling me to get out, before… I couldn’t escape, no matter how hard they tried yelling… because truly, I didn’t have control, but it wasn’t “I’s” fault, it was mine. The river I was in, was rushing towards me, and I was nearing the waterfall, quickly, with all my mental strength I stepped, digging my feet into the sand. The second step, and the third. Finally, I escaped the river.

I breathed in, but I thought immediately after, wasn’t I underwater? I opened my eyes, sounds, replacing the colors I experienced before, spread around me, like a paint color of its own. I was in… bed? I sat up, surrounded by–I was astonished, it was my parents, my sister, my big brother, all surrounding me. Looking around, hearing happy voices, but… where was I? White beds were around me, I looked up, something in a plastic baggie, being held up by a metal pole. I had these little stickies all around me, I pulled them off when a… doctor? I was in the hospital? “Ma, Pa, where am? Why am I hear?” I wondered. “You fell off a bridge, it was a dare that somebody gave you, and thought you wouldn’t take it seriously.” Ma replied in a cheerful tone. “Oh.” I spoke in an embarrassed tone. “We all thought you were dead!” Pa yelled, “your heart rate thingy-ma-bobber went flat, but you managed to pull through, how? I dunno.” I smiled and said “That is just my little secret, isn’t it?”


Just a summarized story that I’ve been thinking of for the past couple of days! Hope you like it! 

Reflection: Seventh Grade

When I first arrived in August, I expected mean 8th graders who would knock all my stuff out of my hands, but then I realized that they weren’t all too bad in 7th grade. I actually enjoyed talking to them, 8th graders can be a lot of fun sometimes! By October everything was routined and boring, and I had trouble in math. Eventually I realized that math wasn’t all that hard at all. In the 7th grade I learned how to properly check my work and get good grades, also I learned better grammar, especially with capitalization, and how to make really bad jokes, for example, what is a microbiologist in an orchestra? A cell-ist! As the year comes to close, I will do my best to keep my grades up. If I had to do it over again I will always check my work!!

Dark Souls and Good Hearts: Intro

I am writing a wonderful story about a boy who lives and dies, although it is a very long story. Too long for me to organize and type it all out into words in one night, but if you like the story, I will write the full thing out in a month minimum (it really is a long story for me to write). Please enjoy the intro! Comment too!

Kurai, an average boy. His grades were B’s and A’s. He had straight, crow-colored hair and ghostly skin. He was tall, although not extremely muscular. His eyes were chunks of coal, trapped by the whiteness that surrounded the iris. He wore colorless grey and black clothing, matching his exterior personality, everything about him was normal, except for the fact that a demon lied in his soul.
It was the 8th grade of Water’s Edge Middle School for Kurai, he was at locker C72, right next to Jonas, the jerk who bullied him day and night, saying that they were townhouse neighbors in the city. “Heeyyyyy Kurrraaaaiiii, wanna take me on?” Jonas taunted. A small group of kids of all grades formed gathering more and more people every second. They surrounded locker C72. A blond-haired jock barked, “Yeah, you can’t take ’em on, you’re too weak!” The crowd burst into ridiculing laughter, jocks spreading their bacteria-filled saliva everywhere. “Leave me alone,” Kurai muttered as he gently shut the locker until it clicked. “I am afraid we can’t Kurrrrai,” Jonas spat, “Didn’t your forget your books anyways?” Jonas gripped onto Kurai’s midnight hair and smashed his face into the locker, twisting it until he was scratched and bruised. The bell rang. At that moment, an old man who taught math across the hall opened the door and stomped his way through the now clearing crowd, pushing away the children. “Leave immediately!” He rasped angrily. The crowd of obnoxious children scattered into smaller groups where they gossiped about the event that happens weekly. “Are you okay, boy?” He wondered in a hushed tone. “Yes, I’m fine.” Kurai replied coldly.

Dark Souls and Good Hearts


To be nice, I have decided to put in a whole bunch of talking verbs instead of said, said, SAID!! I hope you find this useful and enjoy what I have done!


Asked (for those of you who just scrolled down to the bottom)

The Unlikely Maestro – Tropfest New York 2013 Winner

Link to the video Here!!

Link to the Music Composer Here!!

Today’s tale begins in a mid-town landmark,

Uptown from Times Square,

Downtown from the park,

Above subway cars loud,

Under skyscrapers tall,

Is the most hallowed space of Carnegie Hall,

Now this is a story that seems hard to believe,

But it is true as the truth,

And as real as can be.

The Unlikely Maestro

Just atop the grand stage of Carnegie Hall,

Lives a kindhearted rat,

Who answers to Paul,

And unlike all the rest of Paul’s rodent kin,

a love of fine music lives deep inside him.

Yes the sonatas of Mozart and Bach’s harmonys,

Make Paul feel alive,

Make him weak at the knees.

Paul loved music so much that he took up conducting,

But he learned from a school of Russian instructing.

All across New York City our rat hero conducts,

To the tunes of the subways,

Of taxis,

And trucks.

From the beats of the day,

To the notes of the nights,

each sound of the city,

gave Paul such delight.

Then one day as Paul walked down 51st street,

when a poster above him made his heart skip a beat.

The world’s top conductor,

Gustav The Great,

was to play in New York,

Paul could hardly wait.

This man was Paul’s hero,

A real god-like figure,

That Paul had admired since his days in the litter.

So the elderly Russian arrived into town,

 With twelve bags in town,

And his trade-mark frown.

Paul dressed to the 9’s,

Almost to the 10’s,

And his face was a smile,

End to the end.

And so Gustav appeared and the audience gazed,

As the 90-year-old hobbled onto the stage.

But before the first note, or the chance to be heard,

He coughed, and he spluttered,

He moaned and he slurred,

And he grabbed at his chest,

And did show his age,

and promptly dropped dead,

Right there,

On the stage.

The audience gasped,

An oboe was too fainted,

the loveliest of evenings,

looked most certainly tainted.

 The silence so silent,

Not one soul said a word,

Then the strangest of feelings deep inside,

Paul stirred,

He thought,

“Hold on a minute,

Could this really be?

The grandest of chances,

for them to watch me?”

So Paul took the moment,

Breathed in,

Looked around,

And he grabbed his baton,

And fell to the ground.

And proving to all that dreams can be lived,

Paul made the stage sing,

And made the night his.

To himself and the city,

Paul showed it was so,

That such beauty would come from,

An Unlikely Maestro.



My Young Childhood Toy

Bubbles, the one who waddled through my life, his flightless wing grasping my hand as we went on wondrous adventures, finding more and more of the Ubbles family.


At the age of 5, I was finished with my hike up Enchanted Rock and on the way home. We stopped at a small town hoping for some ice cream to cool ourselves from the poisonous floating lightbulb we call the sun. As we relaxed, letting the frozen ice cream melt down our esophagus, little me, spotted a toy store. Excitement flared in my eyes as a smile crept along my face. “Mommy, Daddy!!” I yapped with anticipation of reaching the beloved toy store. I pointed a short finger towards the store and squealed with exhilaration of wrapping my arms around a new plushy that I would probably throw away in a couple of days. Due to the annoying sounds of my sister and I, my parents slugged towards the store.

The auto-slide, glass door opened, and as soon as I took my first step into the world of partially overpriced plushies I spotted Him. At that very moment I knew that He was the one and I would be with him forever. I ran over to the swiveling organizer and snatched my favorite animal. “Mommy, Mommy!” I barked, “I want this one!!” I showed her the stuffed Emperor Penguin, with a gleeful smile, exposing my first lost tooth that I lost recently. I clamped my mouth nervously, and embarrassingly staggered my way to my father and asked him if he could let my Penguin rest on the counter where he could truly become my friend. Finally we checked out and I met my very best inanimate friend that I would be with, not a couple of days like my parents predicted, but for four years.

Bubbles, the messy penguin who could never keep his feathers clean. I took him on all kinds of adventures, I made up stories that I told to my sister and grandfather. Bubbles had a brother named Wubbles, who was cleaner and more organized. In the stories that I told my grandfather every morning at 7:00 am, Bubbles was the super hero who saved Antarctica from the invading polar bears or evil babies, and Wubbles was the sidekick who warned the town of icy cold igloo town to escape from the bad guys. I played with Bubbles and Wubbles like they were dolls. Although they didn’t have a doll house of their own, I would use my doll house to simulate one, where Wubbles would be captured by Neighbort, an evil horse, then be saved by Bubbles. I collected more and more pengiuns, I even have a glass one that still sits on my bed-side table!

I loved my Penguins, until I lost Bubbles, then I fell into pieces. I looked for hours, and finally gave up forever. Too keep me from crying any longer, I told myself that Bubbles is out on a super secret mission and will not be coming back for a long time. I still keep an eye out, in hope that I may find him again.



My City

I am from a city. A place where huge music festivals and everything weird comes and joins at one point; where years of drought still exist; where dress like a cowboy day is common; where the beautiful blue bonnets grow. I am from Austin and I love it here.

Austin is a great place to visit, especially during certain times of the year, for example: in the Fall there is Austin City Limits (ACL). Although I have never been, ACL seems like a really fun place. ACL is not the only event the fall of Austin has. There is also F1, more for people from Europe, but I attend there every year. I think it’s really fun with all the Drag Racing and other events besides just the race. In the Spring, there is South by Southwest (SXSW). There are tons of places to go! My mother went there this year and met Nick Cage himself!!

Another reason you want to visit Austin is not just because it is holds a lot of events, you might just want to visit the zoo or adventure around 6th street, maybe even visit UT!

Finishing off, I love my home town Austin and all of its weird things and crazy events. I hope if you come here you may enjoy it just as much as I do!!

Dark Caves Pt. 3

“Wow, that’s new…” Silver muttered as he sat down in the comfortable chairs, overlooked by a giant chandelier. “Wha- what’s ne-” “Holy crap! We got a flipping baby dragon!!!!” Rhodolite was abruptly cut off by her loud friend Emerald. Bronze was also shocked as he calmly strolled into the giant airship, spotting the baby dragon.

The baby dragon looked as if it were coated in a smooth red paint. His eyes were bright as the Sun, and sparkled like gold. His knife-like talons and a ruffled mane that ran down his back until the tail tip, like a yellow flame. He had eye-catching flaming scarlet scales that were stronger that iron. He had one little fang that was just a little too long and stuck out to the point where the dragon was embarrassed.

The intercom for the airship shuttered to life as the Captain spoke into it. “Yes, yes if you didn’t notice we found a baby dragon. Well, we didn’t, the General found it in the woods soon after he finished talking to you through the camera. Anyways, get in your seats, we are lifting off.” Minutes after the intercom sank back into its quiet slumber, the engines on the airship exploded into a bright blue light that launched the airship high into the endless sky. The young beast shivered and sprinted towards Rhodolite, squealing as if ice cold water was splashed onto him. The dragon leaped into Rhodolites lap and rested his head on her knee. His breathing slowed and fell asleep almost instantly. “Hey Rhode!” Emerald called, “I think he likes you, you should give ’em a name!” Rhodolite gazed down at the little creature and let a smile creep onto her face. “Yeah, maybe I will.” she agreed, “Hmmm, maybe Gold?” “No, that is too human for a strong creature like him,” Bronze corrected. The intercom awakened with a rasping voice, “You may now move quietly throughout the ship.” Emerald babbled, “Why don’t we just talk about this is the dining cabin! I’m starving!”

Without hesitation, they all nodded silently in agreement to her and walked to the cabin with the now awakened baby dragon perched on Rhodolite’s shoulder. The door slid open and everybody, including the dragon, sat at one large table. Rhodolite’s eyes lit up with a new idea for a name. “What about Leo?” she wondered. “It reminds me of my brother who disappeared when I was just starting beginning training. He was like the legendary lion of the Sky, Leo.” “I thinks it’s a great name!” Emerald blurted. “Same with me,” agreed Bronze. Rhodolite stared for praise or acknowledgement from Silver. “Seems like a fine name to me,” he mumbled. The dragon now named Leo turned his friend, Rhode and purred with a smile on his face. “Leo is like a lion, isn’t he? He has a mane and lots of teeth,” Bronze noticed. “But to be honest, I really wouldn’t know, I have never seen a real lion before, or any animal besides fish, chicken, and the occasional deer when we do hunting practice.” “I hear that most creatures have been eliminated by Dark, a god beyond all of our strength combined,” Emerald spoke in a monotone voice. A moment of sadness seeped into the group of friends, while Rhodolite felt anger surge up inside of her, and burst, “Someday they will come back! The majestic Stars will come and defeat Dark, and the animals will come back to the light, from Caves. The one who held them captive for hundreds of years!” “Whoa, who pulled at your strings?” mocked Emerald.

The conversation fell to silence as the Captain announced the airship will be landing in ten minutes. Leo and Rhodolite immediately stomped out of the cabin, managing to slam the slide-open door on their way out. Bronze and Silver followed coolly and quietly until Emerald was left alone. Later, she trudged her way out. A frown cracked on her face, by the cruelty she felt from inside her. As she neared the main cabin, she passed Rhode and apologized. She fell back into her own seat and thought until the ship reached its destination.

As The Crow Fries

You can only see him when he passes the moon, he spreads his wings, starlight is captured by the darkness in his wings. A beak, black as pitch, like even the sun can’t even show light on him, until… BAM! His stubby body is ignited with a bright, green Fire. It was almost like conflagration on a living creature. Within seconds it’s flammable feathers turn into ashes and plummet to the Earth, like grey snow. A burning feather, floating to the ground, almost disintegrated from the immeasurable heat, lands on the cool grass, slowly burning it’s inanimate life away until all of it has become nothing. The cause of this tragedy? Fire Magic.


Journal Writing: Concrete Writing

The blue sky was in reach of her long, thin fingers. The land stretched over the sky behind her, bearing structures that her people created. Brick by brick for the land she ruled. In front of her, the land fell endlessly under her dangling legs. Great birds, and small ones created a harmony for her melodic music she played on her ocarina. The melody and harmony wisped throughout the air, bringing it miles and miles around the kingdom, the birds and her sung. A beautiful, white dress hung about her shoulders, lined with gold and silver. Large, weeping willows shaded her golden locks from the sun that she could almost touch. An old man, tall and proud, clothed in blue, silver, and gold. He held a staff with a golden stork-like bird swiveling around it. “Zelda, Link is here to see you, he wants to show you the Skyward Sword.” He spoke.