Hot Fudge Sundae

Today was the worst day of my life. I stood in the long line at Mc Donald’s at the Eaton Centre, my sweet tooth aching for a hot fudge sundae. I have a memory of when I was a kid, sitting on the grass with my rose-pink sun hat protecting me from that bright fireball blazing in the sky, refreshing myself with the ice cream in the warm air hugging my skin. Now I’m 16, trying to make something out of my life with this hot fudge sundae. Like everything else in life, a moment of pleasure – and it’s gone. Looking for that near-enough substitution is like deciding to drink Pepsi or Coke, but then we forget pop is unhealthy anyway; so why strangle yourself? I waited in that ridulous line of hungry people and when I finally came to the cashier, the woman in the blue visor told me, "sorry, the ice cream machine is broken." ...and so the wait wasn't worth it at all.

Chingu 1 - Intro

Hi, my name is Chaya Oum. People feel awkward when they meet me for the first time because of my name. This one girl thought I was a girl until she met me and I told her my name. Some people are just uncomfortable saying my name. Especially talking to me because my skin is black as night - I'm Cambodian. I feel small when I'm with my friends, but I'm bulky. They call me and my bestfriend, Paul, "chubby buddies." He's Mexican and part Chinese, so he's a contrast of me. You'll most likely see him in a Spiderman T-shirt or a printed tee with an image of his favourite things, like a girl doing something that girls totally don't do, but is rad anyways - like surfing. When it gets cold, you'll see him in a basic long sleeve, with a stripe or 2 sometimes, or he'll just throw on a zip-up hoody on top of his way-cool tees. With me, I'm just wearing whatever teenage boys are wearing in the music videos these days, like solid colored plaids are in right now, and whatever the New Boyz are wearing. And you can never go wrong with Nikes, Vans, and Converse. Yeah, I'm keeping a journal.

The Beggar Prince

She dumped me. That's why I'm here. I did stuff for her. I'd shampoo her head if she let me. There's nothing wrong with me. I don't know why she did it, but I'm still here. Whole as can be. I'm still livin'. What's she doing? Waitressing at a restaurant, living the life of a dog. Her break up with me did me good. I'll do what I want. It don't matter. Nothin' matters. But in your case, I know your job matters. Your girlfriend, your kids, your moms, your dad. Forget that. Forget them, and you can do what you want. So what, you paid 5 bucks for your Harvey's cheeseburger. I'm eating the same one. and guess what - for free! So what I didn’t get it from the store, or watch it gettin’ made. Doesn't change the fact it's still food. That's your problem. That's everybody's problem these days. You guys are so ego-centric. You guys work your whole life, just to be able to say "I bought that burger.” What if I took all my clothes off? And then you took off all of yours. We both the same ain’t we?

Note: The Beggar Prince is a real person that inspired me to write this.

http://www.collagecouture.com/2010/03/07/beggar-princes-homeless-fashion-dg/

I'm a Monster

Kids in my parenting class are scared of me. They don't like to make eye contact. They make me feel like a monster. This girl comes to class, and sits right beside me. She does not say one word. She just sits there all class. She was STIFF. Last fives minutes of class, she turns to another guy and asks where her next class is 'cause she's new and needs help. And of course it's a small white kid she asks, 'cause he's not scary looking.

(I cannot take credit for this, written by friend)

The Man In The Ceilling

Hello, the first thing I noticed was the man in the ceiling. The hole in the ceilling is his peep hole where he watches all of us during class. There are many holes in the ceilings throughout the school, and he moves around in the ceiling. You can see him in these various holes, sometimes in the hallways during transition if you look. I think I'm the only one who notices the man who lives in the ceiling. Even when I tell my friends to look, he fades into the darkness too quick, too quick for anyone to see him. I wonder what the man in the ceiling wants from us. What is he watching for? why are his eyes so red? is it because he is so accustomed to the dark? The man in the ceiling is a man of mystery. He could be dangerous or a protector. Only time could tell who this man in the ceiling is.

I haven't seen the man in the ceiling for two months. It was my first time today in my homeroom Writer's Craft. I wonder if he remembers me.