Sunday Train to Penn

To the man standing with me

Waiting for the 8:42 train that never existed, thank you.

I felt less stupid standing there. Before,

I thought of that girl who jumped in front

Of that train months back. How fast they whizz

Next to you and how they won’t stop even you lay

Across the tracks.

 

To the three teenagers sitting across from me

Your porkroll, egg, and cheese sandwiches smell

delectable. If I was either trashy or hungrier

I will pounce you and grab your sandwiches.

But don’t worry, I will just sit here and dream of Dunkin instead.

 

To the man yelling at his son two rows back

What are you going to do if your child touches

whatever you don’t want him to touch again?

Were you really going to hit him in public

or are you just using that tactic all parents use?

Because by 16 he’ll hit you if you even

try to lay a finger on him.

 

To the two annoying girls who took my original seat

I don’t give a shit about you sleeping

On a coffee table. I don’t care how many shots of tequila

you took last night. If I did as many as you said you did

I would be dead, and I’m not saying that

Because I’m a light weight.

 

To the women who sat down next to me

At the second to last stop

I’m intrigued as to why you picked

the empty seat next to me instead of sitting

somewhere else.Thank you

You made me feel less alone.

To that friend waiting for me at Penn station

I’m sorry.

– “Because I have so many things to do and all I want to do is take a nap.”-Andrew O’Hare.

-sarah

You Stay.

that winding road you drive down

will be closed  one day. That hand you hold

will let go one day and you will stand alone.

Rain will hit your shield but you will feel

nothing.

One day the world will spin off its axis

and you will stand feet buried

in the sand.

 

You always need a rock in your life I’m glad I have mine

 

sarah.

Life Changer.

you are a piece of me

like an pendent you sparkle

blinding strangers with your raze of grace you tower high

into this world look down and see nothing

specks of green,brown moving down highways but yet

you feel small,engulfed by crowds of screams and glassy eyes

they await for you

to feel your warmth as you shut the door

they long to move on but in that split second

they are with you

and their lives are changed forever

 

Today is my mom’s birthday and I can’t even tell you how many lives she touches and changes everyday. She is a wonderful women and I’m proud to call her my mom

 

Happy Birthday Mom!

 

Love Sarah.

Stiff Suits and Prayers (Revised)

He came in a stiff black suit. Sipping my coffee, I watched him as he scanned the room for me. He looked really out of place as little kids with syrup dripping from their chins and old people with Velcro shoes and canes walked past him.  Loud noises echoed the crowded diner as he walked past families together; husbands with wives holding hands and sharing toast. I wasn’t sure why he wanted to meet a diner; his office was just up the street. He looked serious as he firmly held his briefcase in his left hand. I wasn’t going to question his suggestions.

“You must be Coran Stevens?”He said walking in my direction.

“Steven Spencer. Nice to meet you.”  I nodded as I stood up and shook his hand.  His hand was firm as he squeezed my limp, small fingers. He didn’t smile. No warmth, no comfort. I wasn’t surprised though; lawyers weren’t the nicest people in the world. Sitting down, he ordered a coffee and a toasted bagel with cream cheese as if it were programmed. The waitress smiled as she quickly scribbled in her notebook.

“Anything for you Miss?” The waitress chirped in my direction

“No thanks.”

“Okay, thank you,” she grabbed the rest of the menus that were lying on the clean table and walked quickly away.

“So let’s get down to business, shall we?” I nodded as he lifted the shiny black leather briefcase onto the crisp white table. I crossed my legs tight as he pulled packet after packet of paper out of the briefcase.

“You need Doug to sign this line, this line, and this line before anything can be finalized,” He ordered as I followed his finger jump to each page. “You have children right?” I nodded. “If you want full custody of them you must read and sign the next three pages.” Stacy and Jeremy didn’t understand why I did this, but all they knew it had to be done. They were too young to understand and I was too old to explain. I was overwhelmed with emotion as he shuffled through the papers quickly. It wasn’t that I was rethinking my decision; it was just a lot more paper work than I thought. The thought of partly signing my kids away was something that I never in a million years thought I would do.  I sipped my coffee as he continued to go on about the legal things that I didn’t understand. I looked down at my phone where my kids happy faces stared back at me. His phone started to ring in the pocket of his jacket interrupting him in mid sentence, pulling me back to reality.

“If you will excuse me” He said, as he slid out of the booth and walked over to the door.   I looked down at the many papers lying before me. It was as if all the letters were mushed together making it hard for me to read. I could over hear him laughing, it was the most emotion that I had seen all morning come out of him.  I wondered who was on the other end; I wonder if he was mocking my patheticness.  He smiled as he leaned against the front door. Maybe it was his wife, it probably was; I could see it in his eyes. I ran my fingers through my long braided hair and sighed, looking out the window into the beaming sun.

“More Coffee, Miss?” The waitress asked walking in my direction. I nodded as she poured more piping hot coffee into my cold cup.

“Sorry about that, business call” He said as he walked back to our booth. I grinned, looking back down my future, these papers. I rested my head on my hand as I felt the color melt out of my face.

“You sure you want to do this?” He asked, sounding almost comforting.

“There is no other choice Mr. Spencer. If there was I would be doing it.” He nodded looking down at the papers.

“Do you think he will sign them?”

“Does he have a choice?” I looked down and wondered what if he didn’t sign them. What if he kept locked in this nightmare forever. I pulled my sleeves down on my shirt and looking up at him.

I wouldn’t worry Miss Stevens; men don’t usually fight against the woman. I nodded. We drank more coffee and by the fourth cup, I thought it was time for me to leave.

“Is there anything else to do?” I asked

“All that’s left to do is for you and Doug to sign the papers than we will have a meeting to discuss what’s next from here.”

“Thank you Mr. Spencer. I will keep in touch I said grabbing my purse as I slid out of the booth.

“Please, call me Steve. “He said grabbing my hand. “Look, everything is going to be fine. I try to make this process go quickly as possible.” He smiled as he let go of my hand.

“Thank you Mr. Spencer for your comfort but I think I am okay. I am doing whatever I can make it easy for my kids, so the quicker all this shit gets done the happier I will be.” I said swinging my bag over my shoulder, feeling a little taken aback.

“Nice meeting you Miss Stevens. We will keep in touch.” He said not moving from his seat.I got up and grabbed the papers off the table and shoved them in my oversized bag.

“You too, Mr. Spencer. Thank you again.” I waved as I walked out the door. As I got in my car, I wondered how many heartbroken women Mr. Spencer sees a day and if they always meet at that diner. I wondered if Mr. Spencer had a wonderful wife and tried to make his marriage successful. I wondered if Mr. Spencer was always that touchy with his clients; or if I was an exception. I drove away from the diner not looking back as the paperwork became my passenger.

So after some critiques I revised this a little. Let me know what guys think.

Sarah.

Being Sick Sucks.

I’m sick and it majorly sucks. 

I feel like I’ve been sick for about 2 months now and NOTHING is helping. I haven’t really gone to the doctor but now its just  becoming a pain in the ass. I can barely see ( swollen eyes) and my nose like a faucet. I am gross. I don’t understand how anyone could find me attractive at just a disgusting state. But shockingly, people are still looking at me without cringing. 

 I really can’t afford to get sick and not go to work. I need the money and if I don’t show up they aren’t going to give me any work. I might as well wear an eye patch and tape tissues against my nose than to lose money. I also can’t miss school. I’ve only missed school once because I was sick and the only reason I didn’t want to go was because I couldn’t manage to get out of bed. But this sickness ins’t like that, this is just annoying.

I feel like getting sick is gods way of telling you to slow down. I am always running around and I never sleep. I guess that’s why I’ve been so sick for so long. I don’t let my body rest. In my life, there is no time for resting. Today I just chilled out and I feel like I got nothing done. It was a waste of a day because I wasn’t running around like a maniac like I always am. I need to let myself just chill and relax. This coming week is a slow one, I didn’t really plan anything because I am feeling so crappy, I don’t want to burn myself out. 

I am pretty good when I’m sick though,I still manage to truck along with a roll of toilet paper and a prayer.I just need to get better because I want to see people without being worried of getting them sick. This being sick is really getting in the way of my life.

Sickness, BACK OFF… Sniffle… 

sarah.

Stiff Suits and Prayers

                                                                           

He came in a stiff black suit. Sipping my coffee, I watched him as he scanned the room for me.He looked really out of place as little kids with syrup dripping from their chins and old people with Velcro shoes and canes walked past him. He looked serious as he firmly held his briefcase in his left hand. We made eye contact as he walked over in my direction.

“You must be Coran Stevens?” I nodded.

“Steven Spencer. Nice to meet you.” I stood up and shook his hand. He didn’t smile. No warmth, no comfort. I wasn’t surprised though; lawyers weren’t the nicest people in the world. Sitting down, he ordered a coffee and a toasted bagel with cream cheese as if it were programmed. The waitress smiled as she quickly scribbled in her notebook.

“Anything for you Miss?” The waitress chirped in my direction

“No thanks.”

“Okay, thank you,” she grabbed the rest of the menus that were lying on the clean table and walked quickly away.

“So let’s get down to business, shall we?” I nodded as he lifted the shiny black leather briefcase onto the crisp white table. I crossed my legs tight as he pulled packet after packet of paper out of the briefcase.

“You need Doug to sign this line, this line, and this line before anything can be finalized,” He commanded as I followed his finger jump to each page. “You have children right?” I nodded. “If you want full custody of them you must read and sign the next three pages.”I was overwhelmed as he shuffled through the papers quickly. I sipped my coffee as he continued to go on about the legal things that I didn’t understand. His phone started to ring in the pocket of his jacket interrupting him in mid sentence.

“If you will excuse me” He said, as he slid out of the booth and walked over to the door. Looking down at the many papers it was as if all the letters were mushed together making it hard for me to read. I could over hear him laughing, it was the most emotion that I had seen all morning come out of him. But he didn’t have to be comforting,  He didn’t even have to be nice. He wasn’t my therapist. I ran my fingers through my long braided hair and sighed.

“More Coffee, Miss?” The waitress asked walking in my direction. I nodded as she poured more piping hot coffee into my cold cup.

“Sorry about that, business call” He said as he walked back to our booth. I grinned, looking back down my future, these papers. I rested my head on my hand as I felt the color melt out of my face.

“You sure you want to do this?” He asked, looking almost normal.

“There is no other choice Mr. Spencer. If there was I would be doing it.” He nodded looking down at the papers.

“Then all that’s left to do is for you and Doug to sign the papers than we will have a meeting to discuss what’s next from here.”

“Thank you Mr. Spencer. I will keep in touch I said grabbing my purse as I slid out of the booth.

“Do you have any questions?” He asked as he sipped his coffee not moving from his seat. I grabbed the three piles of papers off the table and smiled.

“No I think I’m okay. Thank you.” I said pulling a few dollars out of my pocket and placing them on the table.

“Nice meeting you Miss Stevens. We will figure everything out, don’t worry.”

“You too, Mr. Spencer. Thank you again.” I waved as I walked out the door. As I got in my car, I wondered how many heartbroken women Mr. Spencer sees a day and if they always meet at that diner. I wondered if Mr. Spencer had a wonderful wife and tried to make his marriage successful. I wonder if Mr. Spencer would make everything wonderful for me.

Inspired by two people at the diner at 10 o’clock at night. For my creative writing class… I don’t know how I feel about it.

Sarah.

Taking A Chance.

This semester I purposely put alot on my plate when it came to school. I wanted to see if I could balance going to school full time, going to work,running two clubs,and participating in two others.Plus staying active and still being social. For an ordinary person that might sound like way to much but for me, I am somehow managing it,ontop of having a cold for what feels like a million years. I surprise myself on a daily basis. I’ve realized that with all this pressure comes LOTS of organization skills. I’ve never been organized but now that’s all I think about. I plan my days by the minute and only I can change plans. I know it sounds really bitchy but sometimes I can’t fit everything I want to do before I pass out at the end of the day.

But as a writer, I can’t just sit around and wait for inspiration to strike, I have to go out and find it. I never understood how some writers like Emily Dickinson could just sit in her room all day long and write. I would need to go out and smell the air. I need to look at people and take everything I know about them and slap it on paper. My prompt for this week for my creative writing class is to sit somewhere and watch people talk to eachother and take notes aka stalking them. As a “creep” I think its kind of awesome because I do that alot anyway. I eavesdrop all the time. It’s so difficult for me to sit in a restaurant with someone and not eavesdrop.Dates are the worst for me because with all those people around me at a restaurant, I can’t concentrate on the person in front of me.

As a writer you have to creep around a little just to get inspiration. You have to dig deep into a person’s soul for ideas because your soul  holds only so much and there is some stuff you may not want to share to the world. When you’re a writer you MUST take a chance. It may be publishing, or just writing about something you aren’t too comfortable talking about. Last semester,I took a nonfiction writing class, and I must say, that class is the definition of risk. There were tear stains on my paper when I was  handing them in. That class showed how much the world wants to hear your story, even if you don’t want to share it. But as a writer, you must have the confidence in yourself to write it down.

I believe that writing is a way for people to tell the world how they feel without getting beat up in the process. In alot of my writing, especially  in fiction writing, I write things that I wish could happen in my life, or things I wish I could have said  or how I felt about a person when I met them. After becoming friends with fellow writers, I’ve realized that we are all very judgmental people. I can say that I  am one of them. We have gut reactions and they may or may not form into characters but with every person I meet, a little inspiration is left with me.

With my life and in my writing I take  chances.maybe I’m just crazy… who knows.. We’ll find out at the end of the semester..

Sarah.

New Job, New Opportunities.

Today while at my training shift at my new job,  this woman walked up to my register and slam this purse on the counter. She was looking for a price. I looked for a price tag thoroughly and came up with nothing. I said that were was no tag .She said that she knew that  and that she refused to walk back there and get another one because she couldn’t walk. Honey, you walked the entire store shopping, you can’t walk like 30 feet and get another purse with a tag?Because I was training I couldn’t go get another one, she pulled a hissy fit and stormed out of the store. 

I really am shocked with people. They think because we work in retail we automatically are their servants. We are cashiers, you give us your money and you leave, we don’t need to go and get your stuff off the shelf. We aren’t your personal shoppers. My mom works at Acmoore ( craft store) and most of the time she is like these customers personal shoppers. They will literally give her the list and insist that she goes and shops for them instead of them walking the store and looking for the stuff themselves. I would never ever ever go shopping for someone else, I don’t think its my place. I think people need to really look around and make the best sales on their own. 

I feel like at every store its different. When I worked for Bed Bath and Beyond we were not allowed to walk around with the customer ( I got in trouble) and had to stand in front of the register and greet each customer and literally push them out  of the store. I’ve just started Kohls but I can tell its REALLY not like that. They are more worried about getting people to sign up for a credit card than anything, and that’s fine, I think I can handle that. 

It’s funny how all retail stores are different but every customer is pretty much the same. When I was at Bed Bath and Beyond I wasn’t the nicest cashier. But I wasn’t the meanest.  There were some events that my patience was extremely thin and I was not tolerating with my snotty bosses for the customers at all. If they weren’t desperate for people, I should have gotten fired, but they didn’t care about anyone in that store. My friend Brittany works there and I feel bad for her because they literally treat you like a slave. It was my first retail job but now that I am at Kohls, they treat me so much better. Maybe because I have experience, who knows. But I am eager to learn more about the  new job and shop my pay check away… 

I am now Employed, yet again, in retail. I don’t know if that was a good choice. 

Sarah. 

Putting the Red in Red, White and Blue.

Tonight I was watching one of those 48 hr Hard Evidence shows, and one episode was about how the fellow soldiers of this man, killed him 3 days after he got home from Iraq.They stabbed him 32 times. This man was a solider and he still couldn’t defend himself. All the training in the world couldn’t save him. He survived the war, but couldn’t protect himself from his own people. I think that’s pretty fucking sad.

Recently there has been a number of shootings in the US. People on college campuses, Islamic schools, movie theaters, being bombed because of religion or race or just because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time..According to a friend of mine who’s brother lives close to that  shooting at the Islamic school  said “that the people at the Islamic school were one of the nicest, most ill-harming people and they did not deserve to die.”

I just don’t understand why people have to kill other people? We are all Americans, its like we are shooting one of our own. I don’t understand why people have to run into movie theaters and colleges just to kill people. Look at Columbine and Virginia Tech? Why should we feel frightened to go to school. Are we getting paid to be in danger?

When I listen to these stories about these major shootings, I question the parents of the shooters. Where the hell were they their whole lives? Why in the hell would you not know that your son is capable of shooting down an entire movie theater and boobietrapping apartment buildings and planning it out. Behavior like this doesn’t just come out of blue. This kind of behavior has layers and the more gruesome the killings were, I believe is how thick these layers go.

When I was in elementary school, I had a boy in my class that would constantly bang his head on the table. He was not mentally disabled, as in autistic or anything, he would just get aggravated and bang his head on the table. I later found out that his father would abuse his mother in front of him. He later in high school, made a hit list and gave out sleeping pills to students pretending they were tick tacs.This boy wasn’t a mean person, in reality the bully should be last person you talk to in situations like these. You go back to the quiet ones because they have the time and patience to really think out plans and strategies, unlike the bully who really just likes to hear his own voice.

When I was in middle school, we had many bomb threats. I remember we would have to sit outside as the bomb sniffing dogs would raid our school. The stupid teenager would get arrested and we would go along with our day. I remember the fear in the teachers eyes has they tried to keep us calm. At times we didn’t know if it was real or just a drill. I didn’t live in a bad neighborhood, but the kids were and still dangerous. I can’t tell you how many kids I know that are in the newspaper in the police blogger section ( its a really awesome section). I went to court a few weeks ago, it wasn’t a big deal but as I waiting for my name to be called, I started listening to the other people.Who were there and why, damn it was interesting. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Some of them were for domestic violence, or battery, or possession of a unlawful weapon. An unlawful weapon is like an unregistered gun. These people who were there were just from the three small towns around me. I seriously couldn’t believe it. These people looked like ordinary people. I’ve never noticed how easy people could hide secrets. For all you know, your best friend could be a murderer.

I believe people trust other people way to much. I know some people who don’t even lock their doors. It’s like are trying to get killed? I make sure my car doors are locked when I get in. I make sure I lock all the doors in my house.You never know what will happen when your sleep.

I’ve watched enough cop shows to know that NO ONE, not even the people you think you know, can be trusted. Because who knows, they can be a completely different person once they leave your presence.

Ps. I got a ticket for my expired registration and car insurance, and also for riding a shoulder. Nothing too exciting.

Sarah.

Walking Books.

So yesterday I met this guy while walking in Riverside park with my friends. He was an interesting character to say the very least. When I walked passed him he was scribbling in a notebook, I had a feeling he was writer. I love meeting other writers. It doesn’t matter what they write, but in some sense they have the same mind set as me. Not many people have a creative mind, so when you meet people that do, its like a gold mine.

I guess I whisper really loud and he asked me if I wanted to read his stuff. I walked back and started reading his stuff. It was pretty good, but it wasn’t my style of poetry. I don’t really like things that rhyme, but that’s just me. I don’t like writing poetry with form because I personally am NOT a person of form. My other friends who are also writers came over and started talking to the guy. It was really awesome just meeting someone off the street and talking to them like you know them. I found out he was 20 and a big druggie and a writer. Most writers and college students are druggies so I wasn’t surprised or judgmental. He was telling us that he just applied to Brookdale. ( Point in my book) I started telling him about the creative writing club and he seemed to be really interested. I hope we recruited him.

Lately I was trying to form another writing group but I don’t know how I’d really start. It would be mostly adults. I want to join a readers group because I NEED to start reading, I feel I’m becoming illiterate. I am really trying to read this book called “Jay’s Journal”. It’s the sequal to Go Ask Alice. I really enjoyed Go Ask Alice, I read it in a day. This book on the other hand, I am having a difficult time getting through it. I am also reading Charles Bukowski’s Prettiest Woman in Town and other short stories. Those stories are strange I am telling you. There was this one story I read how the girl ( ironically named Sarah) was a witch and shrunk all the men to be 6 inches tall and than had sex with them. It was very strange.. I really don’t know where Charles Bukowski came up with this. Than there was another one that the girl was a robot and all she did was have sex with people. I mean wonder why Charles Bukowski only wrote about sex. Maybe his sex life wasn’t as great as he says it was. I say this because as a writer, we are all story tellers and liars.

If you guys know any good books, write them in the comment box. I must read more this school year. 2 books this summer is  a disgrace.

Sarah.