So anyways, the assignment here is from a prompt out of our textbook. your were supposed to find ten things (written things) that were in your room and write a memory that's associated with it.
“Riders
on the Storm” The Doors
I
remember, last summer, being desperately heartbroken, and trying to find my
center again. I discovered the Doors
that summer. I wrote a poem by the light
of a candle, and painted the paper with red wine, and burned a corner off of
it. That was weird.
“Writers
on the storm” I said, in a midnight poem.
Bottle
of Lotion, given to me by my mother for my birthday
I
always thought there was pomegranate in it—until just now when I am actually
looking at it. It’s called Persimmon
Plum (there are no plums either). The
smell, of imaginary pomegranate, makes me think of the myth of Persephone. I prefer to think of her story as one of love
rather than rape. I’ve painted pictures,
watercolors, of the happy couple.
I still don’t know what
a Persimmon is.
NuStevia
(extract of the stevia plant, sweetener)
This reminds me
of eating granola with yogurt and raspberries for breakfast with my mother—day
after day, the granola with a cup of coffee.
I taught my friend over this Winter Break to eat this, this lumpy old
people food.
She
loved it.
J.R.R.
Tolkien’s The Hobbit
The
first time I read it, I don’t remember how old I was. I think I borrowed the book from our local
library…maybe. It was big, perhaps
because I was so small at the time. Its
cover was black and had that crinkled plastic put over it. The only thing I remembered from it was
something about shooting the dragon where he didn’t have a scale, and something
about goblins and ponies.
The
Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, by Robert Louis Stevenson
I watched the
silent movie version of this. Illegally,
I think, on Youtube sometime last year.
The first silent movies I did watch were horror pieces, famous
ones. I remember printing out Jekyll’s
letter at the end of the book, tearing it up into pieces, and then painting and
drawing on top of the pieces. It was an
art piece, done around Halloween, featuring a faceless head being broken open
like an eggshell by livid green hands.
These hands were hatching.
Lady
GaGa’s "Bad Romance"
I
was in 10th grade when I discovered how much I liked this song. Chem class, not AP Chem, Regents Chem—for the
dumb kids—it was me and my flamboyant friend.
No one was sure whether or not he was gay, I don’t even he knew at that
time. We listened to GaGa on his iPhone
when we did classwork. It was a good
class. The room was painted a strange pastel
green, and I liked the teacher. He was
always nice and explained things well.
He was the tennis coach.
I
listened to this song so many times that I got sick of it.
Hunter
S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
I
bought this in the Commons. It’s an easy
read, and I want to copy his voice.
Reminds me of when I was completely obsessed with Johnny Depp. That’s how I was first exposed to this
story. I watched as much of the movie as
Youtube would let me. All these drugs,
they didn’t seem too bad, with the exception of the character Gonzo. But Gonzo was just crazy. How was it possible that Johnny still looked
good when he’d had half his hair shaved off?
How
Not to Write a Novel by
Sandra Newman and Howard Mittelmark
Reminds me of
where I bought it, Dublin, Ireland. I
love that country, something about all that green and all the history just
enchanted me. I remember our tour guide
talking about their economic woes, which were apparently caused by them
building too many houses, so now they are selling for dirt cheap—my parents
would never buy me a house in Ireland.
Is it even possible to buy a house in a country you don’t live in?
Susan
Kay’s Phantom
Taught
me the art of writing a whole novel just to talk about how awesome a character
is, in addition to being a very wonderful read.
Now it’s all crinkled because I loaned it to my friend, and she must
have spilled something on it.
The
night I got it back from her, I was sleeping over at her house, and there was
the most ridiculous snowstorm going on outside.
There must have been at least a foot of snow on the ground. From my calves to my toes, I was soaking wet
and numb. But it was worth it.
Complete
Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe
I
found this on sale at Barnes&Noble, which was really exciting—I think I was
there with my dad.
Also
reminds me of the time I bought something similar (though more expensive with
less material) for my then-boyfriend. He
probably likes it better now than he did when I got it for him. It was a Christmas present…I think. I remember I went a little bit crazy that
Christmas and spent way more than I should have buying him things.
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