I'm using this blog to save what I've written over my middle school years. It's a way to remind me of my younger, easily influenced, innocent self. I'm fully aware of how bad and weird my writing is but all of these was me. I'm thankful to all my English teachers for giving me a way to reflect and remember. I might write more in the future but it's highly impossible. Given that I'm not a native English speaker, please be kind to my writing. As bad as they are they're still very important to me.

Thank You.

Diary of Elendil

Dear Diary:

            The pure-heart hobbit and his respectable friends have arrived to the Great Watchtower of Aman Sul. They are finally close. I've been looking over the evil One Ring in the land of God ever since my death. I’ve witnessed my son’s weakness against temptation, his tragic death and the sad life of the poor and foolish Gollum. The Ring had destroyed them both.

            Bilbo Baggins had guarded the Ring well. It was a huge relief for me when Bilbo decided to pass the Ring down to Frodo. He is not a brave and strong lad but he is as pure as an angel so I believe the power of the Ring won’t affect him.

The great Hobbit got into grave danger at the Great Watchtower. I admire his loyal friends’ braveness to accompany him on this dangerous trip but they caused a lot of troubles as they are quite dim. They started a barbecue party after Aragon left them to take a look around. Frodo woke up from his restless sleep with bright fire lights and loud noise. He shouted with rage and fear as he found his loyal friends creating the exact things that will attract the Nazguls. Unfortunately, his darkest nightmare came true.

Sauron’s slaves slowly surround the group. Frodo instructed his friends to draw their sword and ran down to the base of the watchtower with Sam in lead as usual. They waited for the fight with fear in their eyes and sword in front of their face. A Nazgul approached Frodo with a slow pace and he backed down, trying his best to create distance between him and the Nazgul. To protect his beloved Mr. Frodo, Sam lunged toward the Nazgul who knocked him out effortlessly. Pipin and Merry struck together but ended up with the same faith as Sam.

With all of his friends defeated and him alone, Frodo dropped his sword and tried to run. He lost his footing and fell on his back. A Nazgul unsheathed his sword and started to move towards him. The Hobbit took the ring out and looked at it hesitation. It’s the only weapon left. With death right in front of him, Frodo wore the ring and disappeared. The Nazgul aimed a blow at the empty space in front of him and successfully stabbed Frodo’s chest. He yelled in pain.

Aragon burst in with a flamed torch and his sword. He burned the Nazguls and slashed them with fast and skilled movements, defeating them one after another. Frodo took off the ring with pain and hatred. Sam rushed forward to aid his beloved Mr. Frodo. He called out for Aragon in panic after knowing his Mr. Frodo was badly hurt. The situation got worse after Aragon informed them that Frodo was hurt by a Morgul blade which causes bad injuries that he could not heal.

I will always be trapped in thoughts after sawing how things got from bad to worst. Like my intention to battle the Dark Lord’s army to my death, the kind Hobbit desire the same thing as I used to, which is a peaceful life for my loved ones. I came to Heaven with proud and dignity, thinking of my son’s great success on killing the Dark Lord himself but soon drowned in sorrow knowing my son’s failure to resist One Ring’s temptation. Ashamed, I refused to meet God. I deserve punishment for raising such a child.

Now, this great creature is doing his best to destroy what that should be destroyed by my useless son, Isildur hundreds of years ago. Please stand by his side.

Essay

I woke up to the sound of running water. Sitting up in bed, I realized that my mattress was soaking wet. Still, in a daze, I flinched as a large, cold drop of water splashed on my head. It’s raining outside. The broken wooden roof that I repaired yesterday was destroyed by strong winds. The rain here can easily cause some minor flooding. My slippers were floating beside my cabinet. I have to build myself a taller bed frame as soon as possible.

This cottage was perfect before the roof was damaged by a hurricane. It is located deep inside the forest, build on a meadow with a variety of flowers surrounding it. Poppies, buttercups, morning glories, daisies, and lots of others that I couldn’t name formed a field of colors around my precious grass green cottage, creating scents that can easily top off expensive designer perfumes. This is my forest, my meadow and my cottage. The cottage was built by my late grandfather as a graduation gift.

The forest was owned by my family. Its large area made it impossible to fully experience what it could offer. Other than that, it’s so mysterious and silent that I had never dared to explore it alone. But I have no choice left as I came alone. I needed an escape from my materialistic job and surrounding. I needed to rediscover myself without any interruptions.

I left the meadow to find myself some fruits. In a cross section, I chose a path that I never took. I was sick of eating cherries and plums. My father told me he had found some great mushrooms and rare truffles there before.

The second I crossed a wall of tall bushes, I knew I had made the right choice. I’m instantly overwhelmed by the beauty in front of me. Tall pine trees surrounded me while sunlight shined through leafs, forming abstract shadows on the ground. I felt like I have walked into a picture. There were not enough space to form a full rainbow but reds, blues and purples danced around the air like they have escaped from the boundaries of rainbow. I could spot furry animals hiding behind fallen tree trunks, curiously observing the trespasser.

I was so focused on spotting every squirrel nearby that I didn’t realize the empty space in front of me. I tumbled down the steep slope and blacked out.

I landed on something soft and slippery. I tried to sit myself up but fell down frm the mysterious object instead. I had to pinch myself a few times after I stood up and spotted the object. It’s a mushroom as tall as a building.

I’m not lying. I have no reasons to lie. That mushroom was as big as my house. It’s surreal. What happened? Did I accidentally shrink myself? I turned around and gigantic mushrooms surrounded me from every direction. How did they grow so big? Are they flesh eating mushrooms? Without thinking, I ran.

 

I didn’t know where I was running to. There was nowhere to run. Those monster mushrooms were everywhere! But I can’t stop myself from running. My natural instinct had taken over my body, forcing me to run for my life even though there seem to have no hope left.

I tripped and fell on a bunch of ferns. I turned over to lie on my back and closed my eyes as I felt my body giving up.  I opened my eyes and saw a flock of normal sized birds flying above me. Looks like I’m not shrunk after all. Still, that does not explain why I’m surrounded by a forest of humongous mushrooms. I need to get myself out of here but I’m hopelessly lost. I gave myself a pep talk to make myself believe that mushrooms can never eat humans and continued to my unknown destination.

It felt like forever before I found a small white house beside a white oak tree. It’s weird to find a house there but I’m glad that it’s not build beside a gigantic mushroom. I knocked the front door and found myself looking at a tall, fit but crazy looking man a minute later. His hair is mixed with brown and grey, he is not too tall or short, just the average height, and he might be in his 40’s.  

He spoke to me like we’re standing beside a street in London.

‘You look lost. Where did you come from?’

‘I’m Watson. I was exploring my private property before I fell into this supernatural garden of gigantic mushrooms. Where did you come from?’ I managed to answer in daze.

‘Nowhere. Come in and have a seat.’ He replied.

I walked into his house and found a women cooking in the kitchen.

‘I’m Dominic Watts. You can all me Don. This is my wife, Clara. I see you’re in an unfortunate condition here. Please stay here tonight if you don’t mind.’ The guy told me.

Dominic took me to a bedroom and left. I was still confused but I can’t help it. I was completely worn out. I crashed on the bed and fell deeply asleep.  

I woke up to the smell of baked mushrooms and the sound of potteries. I lay on the bed, recollecting what I had seen yesterday. Maybe I knocked my head so bad that my brain reprocessed my eyes to see trees as gigantic mushrooms. Then I started to think about what I had said to Don and Clara. I didn’t think I had said anything? Or did I? Did I mumble crazy stuff like gigantic mushroom zombies?

“Are you awake? The breakfast’s ready, I made you some chicken soup so you’ll feel better. Clean yourself up and have breakfast with us.” Clara said.

I washed my face, brushed my teeth with the toothbrush Clara had given me and changed into a clean set of clothes. I walked into the kitchen and was invited by a feast.

Baked mushrooms with sour cream dipping, breadsticks with butter, salmon salad with truffle oil and chicken soup with ravioli. It’s more than what a five star hotel could offer. But what took my breath was not the heavenly breakfast; it’s the scenery I was facing. 

I was facing a forest of gigantic mushrooms. They looked terrifying yesterday but they looked refreshingly beautiful that morning. I felt like Alice in Wonderland with all the colors filling my eyes. The forest can be divided to three levels. The first is filled with bushes, the second filled with oak and willow trees, and the third is filled with huge mushroom caps.  

‘Has it always been this way? I asked.

‘What do you mean?’ Don replied.

‘Have you always been living with gigantic poisonous mushrooms?’

‘Oh! Haha.’ Don laughed.

‘Not all of them are poisonous.’ Clara said. ‘The one you are eating is picked nearby.’

‘So there are normal ones.’

‘Of course.’

After breakfast, the Watts gave me a tour. From our walk I had learned that they found this place 5 years ago and made a home here. They never looked back after that.

‘I noticed a playground here. Planning to have a child?’ I asked.

‘Yes. We need new bloods in our family.’

A look flashed across Don’s face. I’m not sure, I might be wrong but he seemed depressed for a moment.

‘You said you got lost exploring your private property?’ Clara asked.

‘Yes.’ I answered.

‘I see you’re one of the Lodges.’ Don said.

‘Yes, but I’m not one of the powerful ones. My family had a long history so I have a range of extended families. This is a shared property owned by the entire Lodge family. My grandfather was a great man and he is the one that decided to buy this place as a gift to all Lodges in the purpose of bringing us all closer. Unfortunately, it didn’t work. We were separated far too long to connect over a property. And most of them can easily afford one themselves so they never came here except for the official signing.’ I answered with ease. Then I flinched. Why did he ask me that? Is this mushroom forest part of my family’s property?

‘You guessed it right.’ We have been illegally staying here. Please have a heart and try to forgive us.’ Don said after examining my expression.

‘What happened here?’ I asked after remembering my tour of this property on a helicopter. I didn’t saw any gigantic mushrooms then.  

‘You can’t see any of these above but if you know this place well you’ll notice the change of landscape.’ Don said.

He ignored my question. Something has clearly been going on here. I just didn’t know what yet. We walked back to the cottage in silence.

‘I’m guessing that you had a child. Am I right?’I asked when we were resting in the living room.

‘Yes. We had a son.’ Clara admitted.

‘Does the forest have anything to do with your child?’ I asked again, desperately grabbing the chance I had to discover the truth.

Don explained ‘Yes, I created it for him. It was supposed to be a gift. It was a celebration for his successful battle with leukemia, but it strike again two weeks later and took his life. I dedicated this place to him as a gift. We never thought it would turn out to be his cemetery. It was his fantasy to live in a wonderland. I made this place with some genetically engineered mushrooms to fulfill his fantasy but…’

Don and Clara lead me back to civilization the next day after another heavenly breakfast. I promised not to mention the mushroom forest to anyone and to never threaten their home. I was lucky enough to witness a living fantasy. I got back to my cottage and found my cottage fully repaired and anew. I found a note in the living room, saying: ‘Let us be friends, seems like we both need families. Your distant cousin, Huston Lodge (Dominic Watts).’ 

Death at Funeral

It’s exactly the way she wanted it to be.

Two days of reminisce.

A journey she planned to make sure she will be remembered.

What a journey.

She was dressed in pearls and white.

Placed in a boat decorated with lavender and peony.

I rowed the boat along the river,

Her beauty paraded to the town of Delaware.

The journey left us nothing but heartbreak.

Having to cremate such beauty.

She said beauty can’t last forever,

It’s a blessing to remain beautiful in people’s heart.

I held what’s left of her on my hands.

Wind came and took her away,

Blowing her remains to the sea.

She took my soul along with her,

Leaving a dead man at a funeral.  

The Quest

‘The ground is caving in!’

‘Run! Run for your lives!’

‘There’re three tunnels! Which way should we go?’

‘Go for the brightest one!’

‘Inform them. Now! ’

‘Mayday, Mayday. The ground is collapsing. Nobody’s on the other side!’

‘Speak French!’

‘I don’t speak French! Nobody here does!’

‘We’re cursed. Allah! Help! ’

‘Don’t stop! Keep going!’

‘There’s a small cave in front!’

‘Get in there!’

‘The hole is too small!’

‘Squeeze!’

The soil from the cave in was spilling into my boots. The ground was shaking and the ceiling on top of me was threatening to fall. Freddie was still struggling to squeeze into the cave.  Farhan, the usually hyperactive Arabian, was motionless.

‘Maybe it’s time.’ I thought.

 

Freddie finally managed to get into the cave. Louis, the England born French, pushed Farhan and I into the cave and himself after. ‘What were you waiting for? You really are aging aren’t you?’ Louis asked me half jokingly. I am 45 now. Maybe it’s time for me to retire.

‘I’m alive! Hah! I’m alive! Thank you! Thank you Allah! Muah! Muah! ’ Farhan is back to his old self again, happily and almost psychotically kissing the ground. I swear to God. If I ever hear the word Allah again I will point a gun at Farhan and force him to swallow down ten pork pie.

‘What is this place?’ trying to ignore Louis’s question, I asked a question that puzzled me as well.

‘It’s nowhere on the map. Not even the tunnel we came from. Only the other two is showed.’ Freddie answered with unstable breath, a thick red line coloured his left arm.

‘That’s impossible. That tunnel was the biggest and brightest. How can they miss it?’ Farhan asked.

‘This place looks like a room. Someone made it. Maybe they hid the entrance on purpose and the

cave-in exposed it.’ Freddie said. Everyone was silent.

The shaking stopped. I walked to the hole and saw a big rock blocking our way out. ‘No luck going out from there.’ I said. Fear washed through me. We could have gone back to the entrance of the tunnel, went to the other tunnel that leads to a subway tunnel and escaped through the manhole. After that horrifying incident, I don’t think I have any luck left to explore hidden tunnels. What can we do now?

I never wanted to accept this job in the first place. After trying to find wine cellars rumored to be built by Jimmy Walker in New York’s underground, I vowed to never go under again.  But my adventurous nature brought me to Paris, the city that is famous for its glamour and for mad explorers, its complex underground tunnels. 

My old friend George Hardwick invited me for a drink five weeks ago. We talked about our wild experiences in Harvard and adventures to Egypt together. He then jokingly insulted me with my series of divorce, as always. I still couldn’t understand how he could put up with my third ex-wife, Susanna, who is the mother of his five children. She is so dependant she made me felt like I married a Barbie doll. After six glasses of scotch whiskey, he told me about the job offer he heard from a friend that is working in France as an Archivist in the Louvre Museum. He needed someone to search for a piece of missing Marie Antoinette jewelry.

At first, I thought of it as a joke. Why would anyone care about one single piece of jewelry when they have hundreds and thousands of it? ‘That’s the funniest joke I’ve ever heard’ I told George.

‘You said that because you don’t know the best part yet.’

‘Ha! A useless piece of jewelry can never have any best part, especially a Marie Antoinette. They have hundreds of those already! And don’t tell me how much I’ll get from this joke. I’m rich enough.’ I was starting to get offended. After years of being friends and he think that I’m only capable of finding jewelries?

‘There’s something behind it.’ ‘Yeah, I bet it has. The queen bought it, thought it’s a real diamond and it’s not. Another great humiliation! ’ I got up, ready to leave.

‘Listen to me Henrick. It has a key to the global safe. The safe is something like our national security private data system. It’s harder to reach and it has more access to government’s darkest secrets. It the government’s bank of secrets and it’s international.’ George confessed.

‘What do you mean by international?’ I asked.

I should have walk off then. I wouldn’t be in this state if I had.

‘France, Russia, Germany, England, Italy… All of the countries kept something hidden in that safe. The plan of Princess Diana’s assassination, Kennedy’s assassination, Ferdinand’s, Martin Luther King’s… It’s all in there. And real reasons of freak accidents, disasters and economy downfall. If some of those secrets get out, even just one, will start another world war. The world will fight to know who is responsible of the leak. It’ll be the end of us.’ George told me when he was driving me back home.

‘Why choose me? What about CIAs and secret agents?’ I was confused.

‘The safe is underground Paris. Nobody knows its exact location. All they know is that it’s secretly built by someone powerful. It’s like a mega hard-drive that is connected to a computer in a secured area of the parliament building. Between the safe and the computer is a complicated system that had kept the secrets safe for years. No one could access one single document in it except the document saver. The only possible way is to gain access from the system’s core.’

‘Which is the safe, with has a key hidden behind a diamond pendant that is kept in a world-class museum.’ It’s quite smart, I must admit. Who would have an idea that something important is hidden under a Marie Antoinette possession? Underground, I am an expert in undergrounds. Only secret undergrounds under buildings, not a whole city! Nobody knows about my personal hatred in city underground tunnels and I planned for it to stay this way forever.

It was supposed to be an easy job. They had captured the thief. All I had to do was to find the pendant that is hidden somewhere underground Paris before someone else does. Sounds easy, I just have to lie to my crew about the real reason we’re looking for this pendant and find it.

Who was I kidding? It was everything but easy.     

Disasters followed us anywhere we went. It started out small, warnings from the enemy. Slowly, it turned violent. Explosives turned stronger, threats got bigger, the job had gotten  more and more life threatening every minute. But how can I give up when this job is a quest to save the world?

I remembered that hopeful look on that archivist’s face. He is a dorky guy with really thick spectacles. But he is somehow tall and muscular. He would’ve been an attractive man without that thick pair of specs that make his eyes look bulgy. We were so close. We found the pendant in a hidden room somewhere near Notre Dame underground. It would have been kept safely in the parliament building days ago if those freak accidents never happened. 

‘What are we going to do now?’ Louis asked desperately.

‘Damn it, we were so close.’ Farhan started to laugh and cry hysterically.

‘At least we know we’re somewhere near Louvre.’ Freddie mentioned.

‘We are?’ Farhan asked.

‘Yes, you are.’ A handsome, tall and muscular man walked out of the shadow with a Glock 39.

‘Jean Xavier’ I said absentmindedly due to shock. It’s Jean Xavier, the archivist.

‘I never thought you could make it this far. Still, thank you. You can hand me the pendant now.’ Jean the traitor said.

‘Hey! You’re the geek!’ Freddie shouted. ‘Here to safe us? There’s no need for a gun. Nobody will be stupid enough to come down here at this situation.’ Freddie said happily, sensing no danger from the used-to-be-geeky guy. I had a sense of feeling that Freddie is getting Parkinson.

‘He’s the bad guy, Fred.’ Farhan said desperately.

I watched Louis closely as he is my only hope left. We made eye contact and we know what we both have to do in an instant. Louis slowly walked up to Jean while fiddling for something from his backpack.

‘You’re lucky you handed the pendant to this wise man here, Henrick Powell. This will make everything so much easier.’ Jean said satisfyingly.

‘Louis, what are you doing!?’ I tried my best to stop him but he pushed me away. Jean started to laugh. I quickly knock him down and take his gun before he could react. He glared at me furiously and tried to blind me with his fingers but Louis caught his hand and broke it. Freddie took a rock and smashed Jean’s head with it. Jean Xavier is no longer a threat.

We were rescued by a group of firemen after 3 hours. Jean Xavier was sentences 30 years in prison. The key to the yet undiscovered Safe is hidden somewhere else safer than Marie Antoinette’s pendant. Louvre Museum gave us the pendant as thank you gift and listed us as VIPs. We can go to France anytime with want, fully sponsored by the France government. We cut the pendant’s diamond to pieces and made a few diamond rings with it. Louis decided to stay in Paris for a longer time. He then got married to a beautiful women he met in France and made himself a France citizen. Freddie and Farhan disappeared to nowhere, sending me postcards once in a blue moon. I moved to a boathouse in the Caribbean and swam by the sea every day. My days went by peacefully and I stayed far, far away from undergrounds.   

Love, a simple and complicated language.

I believe if there is a way to see our history in relationship status we'll find out that troubled couples will have a repetitive history. 


It's a sign for you to let go because a relationship like that will never have a good ending. 

I believe that love is a beautiful thing. 
And for me, beautiful things are always simple. 
What make love complicated?
I have no experience in love and no one can really define what is love but i'm sure that people's stubbornness is the reason love is complicated. 
We all have grown up listening to wonderful fairytale endings. 
Boys believe that being a brave and strong man like Alladin can make Jasmine fall for them. 
Girls believe that being a kind and loving women will score that a dashing prince charming.   
All of these fairytales taught us to be brave, kind and loving. 
It had also made us believe that a relationship will always work out because love conquers everything. 
Evil stepmothers, witches, robbers, natural disasters........
Love conquers all.


But what if there is no love?
What if all that's left is passion and stubbornness?   
Can you so-called-love conquer everything by then? 


I'm a selfish person. 
I've vowed to never settle down in love until I have achieved my dreams. 
All of them. 
I know that I will regret forever if I failed to complete my dreams. 
A marriage in regret= Unhappy marriage.   
I'm sure that I don't want to spend the rest of my lifetime regretting. 


An on-and-off relationship is unstable because your fate together has ended or have never begun. 
Life is short. 
Do you want to waste years trying to work a relationship that will never work?
Think of all the things you are missing. 
A chance to learn knowledges that could be used for a long time, 
a chance to gain new friends,
a chance to gain a new experience... 
You missed everything because you were crying you eyes out thinking the reason why this relationship is so hard when the answer is right in front of you. 


It's time to let go. 


  

Love in the wrong places

I am one of the chosen participant in my class for the creative writing competition. 


These are the three themes: 
1. Memories
2. Suffering
3. Abuse 


Ms. Joanna advised us not to write about abuse since it's sensitive but my rebellious nature made me do the exact opposite. 


So I wrote about mental abuse that is experienced by a third party in a marriage. 


Shocking , I know. It all started by humming along with You Can't Always Get What You Want by the Rolling Stones. A classic rock about a prostitute. I can't really write a poem about prostitution since I have limited knowledge about it, so I thought about a Taiwanese drama I watched recently - 犀利人妻. A drama about a love affair in marriage. The lover of the husband is experiencing some mental stress and got a little crazy after various things happened. 


So this is my poem. 


Love in the wrong places

Men in confusion,

Women’s heart broken,

Children in despair,

A family in destruction.

You are the reason,

The troublemaker.  

But should the blame be all on you?

You did not force your love on men, 

You did not take women's heart and crush it,

You never intended to do it.

You never force the children to live in a house of arguments. 

Are you really the only reason? 

But friends look down on you, 

Neighbors close their doors when they see you,

Children burst into tears looking at you.

The whole world is against you.

You lose your job,

Lovely home,

Friendship,

Even family. 

But should the blame be all on you? 

You were just looking for love in the wrong places.

Bump into one accidentally.

Having never experienced one love so heart-warming,

So personal,

You’ve forgotten how to let go. 

Did you struggle?

Oh, the world have no idea. 

This unblessed love brought nothing but torture. 

Your mind and soul scattered,

Lonely and helpless.

No one could save it,

No medication could heal it.

At last when the men decided to leave you,

You have nothing left,

You have no one to depend on,

Nothing to hope for.

So you ended your once beautiful life, 

A life close to perfection before everything went wrong. 

People called you a fool in front of your grave. 

But is it all your fault? 

We just don't understand. 

But can we ever look past the ugly surface and discover the core of the event?  

We'll never know.