I do not feel like I am having much success using Blogger. For that reason, I have stopped posting my works to this blog. If you want to read my writing, you should definitely check out my Wordpress blog. There, I post frequently and feel much more welcome to the blogging community.
The link to my Wordpress blog:
http://thewritingaficionado.wordpress.com/
Hope you visit soon!
The Writing Aficionado
Life is a blank page, and you’ve got the pen.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Fear
It hits you like a train,
And you’re left running—
Running
To the point of no return,
And it’s coursing through your veins;
You’re trembling,
Shaking—
Tears are streaming down your eyes.
It’s coming for you—
You know this
With a certainty
That’s sharp as a knife.
Sharp as the knife
That’s piercing
Your mind,
Slowly but surely.
And you’re in the dark,
Alone—
No one to save you
Or to understand,
But no one would understand
If you tried.
You’re crazy.
No, no! It’s real—
Then you’re lost
In a maze,
And your shadow
Becomes a monster.
And it’s chasing you
On your heels.
A dead end—
You can’t turn back.
Trapped,
Nowhere to go.
You wait
For the end.
When suddenly
It all goes away,
And you’re left
The same as before,
But different
Because in the dark
You look back
Over your shoulder.
There will always be
A drop of fear
Still lingering
In your blood.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
The Music Box
The Music Box
When
she was a child, starry-eyed and enchanted by the world, she had a music box
propped up on top of her dresser. It was a simple little thing—made of dark
wood and embellished solely by a design of golden flowers on the top. But once
it was opened, a tiny ballerina was revealed, rotating in a lovely yellow
dressed bedecked with roses. She danced in perfect accompaniment of the music—a
melody of whimsy and nostalgia and lost dreams. The little girl became
enthralled by the magic of the box every time she opened it. She spun around
her room, keeping in time with the song and pretending she was the ballerina—full
of grace and poise and a beauty that could only be described as timeless.
Now
the little girl has grown into a woman, not-so-starry-eyed and disenchanted by
the world she has become accustomed to. She does not know what happened to the
music box, but it is not sitting atop her new dresser in the new home she lives
in. At night, however, she hears the song—a melody of whimsy and nostalgia and
lost dreams. In her sleep, she is the ballerina, and she twirls around with a
beauty that is timeless but reminds her of time and how quickly it can slip
away.
Friday, March 2, 2012
Splendidly Simple Strawberry Balls
Ingredients
1 tablespoon butter
1 can sweetened condensed milk
1 teaspoon strawberry Jell-O powder
½ cup sugar
Directions
Mix the butter, condensed milk, and Jell-O powder in
a pan over medium-low heat. When it boils, mix for 8 to 10 minutes until it
thickens and you can see the bottom of the pan while mixing. Be careful so that
it does not burn; you may need to lower the heat.
Remove from the heat. Butter a medium-sized plate
and pour the mixture over it. Let it cool completely. Rub butter onto your
hands and form the mixture into teaspoon-sized balls. Roll the balls in sugar.
Makes about 20 balls.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Dreams, Human Nature, and Revelations
Last night while I was asleep, I drew back my curtains and saw the planet Saturn drifting by. I had a certainty that someone was about to bomb the Grand Canyon. Oh, and it was doomsday.
I used to think dreams possessed some kind of meaning—they predicted the future, or they were a reflection of your subconscious desires. But if all that is true, then what was my most recent dream trying to tell me? I’m going to be an astronaut? I want to go to the Grand Canyon, but someone will try to stop me from doing so? Science never was my strong point, and I’m not exactly yearning to see a huge hole in the middle of the desert.
So I’ve come to realize that people overanalyze their dreams. When you’re asleep, you don’t become a psychic, and your secret, innermost longings aren’t going to reveal themselves to you. Dreams are just random thoughts that float around in our subconscious minds—something we saw or thought about that day comes back to us in a different form. Nevertheless, it’s easy to hope you were given some kind of sign in your sleep—a bit of guidance to put you on the right path, or a hint about events to come.
And it’s the same for most situations in life. People scrutinize the most trivial matters, hoping to realize something they didn’t notice before. It becomes much easier when you take things as they come, without the endless questioning and investigation. Life isn’t about trying to know things beforehand. It’s about surprises and making mistakes so you can learn more about yourself through them.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Brilliant Banana Upside-Down Cake
For topping
¾ stick unsalted butter
1 cup packed light brown sugar
3 large just-ripe bananas, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
For batter
1 ¾ cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon cinnamon
¼ teaspoon salt
½ stick unsalted butter, softened
1 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
¾ cup warm milk
Special equipment: a well-seasoned 10-inch cast-iron skillet
Directions
Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle.
Melt butter in skillet over medium heat, then stir in brown sugar and simmer, stirring, 4 minutes. Remove from heat and arrange bananas on top of sugar mixture in concentric circles, fitting in as many pieces as possible.
Whisk together flour, baking powder, cinnamon, and salt. Beat together butter and sugar with an electric mixer at high speed until pale and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. In a separate bowl, mix warm milk with vanilla. Reduce speed to low and add flour mixture in 2 batches, alternating with milk, mixing until just incorporated.
Spoon batter over bananas, smoothing top. Bake until top is golden and a wooden pick inserted into center comes out clean, 40 to 45 minutes.
Let cake stand in skillet 15 minutes. Put a plate over skillet and invert cake onto plate (keeping plate and skillet firmly pressed together). Replace any banana pieces stuck to bottom of skillet.
Serve cake slightly warm or at room temperature.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Youth
Youth is the
island
Where we
forget about
The rest of
the world.
Youth is the
kingdom
That is
ruled solely by
Carelessness
and joy.
Youth is a
memory
That shines
like a beacon
In
everyone’s heart.
Youth is the
place
The gray and
the wrinkled
Wish to
return to.
Youth is a
mirror
Of what we
dreamed to be
And all we
once were.
Youth is a
candle—
It glows
bright as the sun
But quickly
burns out.
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