Return

Street lights come on

On the edge of the light, three young men and a girl slouch[ed]

Beyond the light, everything is obscured by darkness

he has no destination

            [just following]   -->              following narrow lanes with yellow leaves

The smell of burning leaves      s         the memories of childhood car rides
                                             t    r
                                               i
he does not  h u r r y


                                               losing and finding himself endlessly 

The fence         d    r      i          f      t        e      d                     like snow

                                 

                                        [But in time] he can return

School Disaster

Getting from class to class at Princess Margaret is a like jungle. The hallways are filled with wild animals trying to get their way through the halls to their different classes. Each hallway, they are always that one group of people that decide they want to block the hallway and chit-chat like those annoying birds that when you drive, they decide to run across the road. Or those "soul mates" that make out like they'd never seen lips before. Once you find your way out of the crazy hallway and you get to your locker, yes the lockers at Princess Margaret are a size of mouse trap. How are you supposed to fit all those gigantic textbooks into that tiny space? Like really? It's not just your textbooks, plus 2 or more locker-mates. As you get to the class you're suppose to be in, you become a zombie, you just sit there, wide-eyed, and pretend you're listening to the teacher, well except English class, of course. The bell rings again, it's lunch time, you don't even want to eat because week the lunches are the same. Potatoes, fries, potatoes, fries, pizza! Five minutes before the bell rings for after school, you're bouncing your legs; the zombies in you start to fade away. *Ring* let’s get the heck out of here!

I am

I am from a third-world country, Canada offered me to be a citizen. I can speak 56 different languages, in my head. My nickname is Ninja, did you see that? Exactly. I can walk on frozen water. My biological parents love me so much that they gave me to a rich parent.

I have 96 invisible tattoos on all over my body. Breaking nickels in half with my 2 fingers is my hobby. I have 4 wheels, on my car. Cops love me, they follow me everywhere. I get all A's on my report card, while partying all night every day.

I can paint the Mona Lisa with my eyes closed. I don’t want to meet Obama, Obama wants to meet me. Last summer, Obama bought my plane ticket to Hawaii.
I can eat McDonalds for breakfast, lunch, dinner and lose weight. My parents beg me to live with them.

I am the girl who won the Hunger Games. Sleeping with my eyes open is too easy, I challenge myself sleeping with eyes closed. I can walk and talk at the same time.
Monks  worship me, they come to me. I mastered the violin, piano and the trumpet at the age of two and a half, but I am not graduated from University.

Mouth Killer

As I look into the poka-dotted paper cup, I was dazzled by the bright, blubbery, orangey beverage. It was like an eye catcher from miles away. I took a big whiff of the eye catcher, the vicious smell had set my eyes on fire and my nose was very angry at me. At this point, I wasn't motivated to even take a tiny sip of it, but I sucked it up, and drank it. As I drank the vicious drink, it was as if it had slaughtered my lips, beaten up my tongue and clawed my throat into pieces. It felt as if a  300 pound, 6'5 football guy had tackled me. Never have I ever tasted anything as revolting as this. I sat there for a while, the flavour was stuck to my tongue, taunting me like a bully. I felt the urge to weep, but kept it to myself. I disliked how the taste was taunting me so I took a big gulp and finished the drink.Never again will I ever touch, sip or gulp that vicious drink again.

Letter of Concern

Natcha Amornpiyakrit
#118-43 Fenish Avenue
Calgary, Alberta, Canada


March 09, 2012

Mr.Kleats
Central High School
123 Main Street
Sportstown, British Columbia, Canada
V2A 1W3

Dear Mr.Kleats:

Hi Mr.Vancamp, I'm Mrs.Amornpiyakrit and I am the mother of Miles Amornpiyakrit and Larain Amornpiyakrit. My son, Miles, is part of the Senior boys soccer team at Central High School, as my daughter, Larain, is part of the Junior girls soccer team.The senior boys have so much potential and skills and the junior girls work so well together as a team.  I am aware that you are a very busy man being the coach of many atheletes team and all, but I've noticed a few problems with the practices that I would like to share with you.

When i arrive with my son or daughter to one of their practices, I notice that you are never there first, not just the practices, but for the games as well. I tend to see the whole team sitting around the bleachers and chit chatting away instead of practicing. I am aware that you have many other pritories to attend and it is hard to maintain everything at once, but you are the coach and as a coach, you should show more effort to your teams. They need you to guide them to the winning line, and that won't happen if you are always late.

Once you do arrive for the practices, I see that the practices are quite unorganized and that there's barely any drills for the teams to practice. As the other mothers and I see as we sit on the bleachers while the practices, that the teams tend to play around quite a lot and I feel like you base the practices on winning way too much. It is  good to make the teams feel the urge to win, but with winning, it is balanced with well organized practices and drills.

My son is very pleased with his playing time during the games and tournaments. On the other hand, my daughter comes home almost very practices and games, upset. She tells me that it freaks her out when you yell at the team for doing something incorrectly. I would like to ask you to lower your voice and instead of yelling at them, to speak to them calmly and explain what they're doing incorrectly, that way, they are not scared of you.

This letter is not for mocking you and  I am not trying to teach you, but I am trying to help and suggest a certain a few problems I've seen for the past couple months. As a mother, I do want the best for my kids and I hope you take my suggestion for consideration. I am excited to see the senior and junior teams kick butts during the Provincials!


Sincerely,


Natcha Amornpiyakrit

awwyeah, spare (grade 12)

One awesome thing about Grade 12 is our one awesome spare. Even though we can only get one spare, it's still something. Teachers call it "approved studies" so students can have a free block to study and do homework, but really, for most grade 12 students, "approved studies" are basically  a "sleep in/drive around/play cards/hang out with friends and go eat at McDonald's" block. Well not always, we do try to do homework and study for other classes because we're behind, but then our brains stop functioning in the first 15 minutes of our awesome spare and we turn to our friends and say " I give up, let's go get McDonald's". It happens EVERY spare (according to some experiences). Most of our awesome spare, we tend to go to a fast foods place, sit, eat, and play cards, everyday, but there's that odd time that we'd go get ice-cream and walk on Okanagan lake. At the end of the semester, when our final grades come out, we realize that our grades dropped and  maybe we should of actually studied and get some work done during those card playings and fast foods eating and that our awesome spare weren't so awesome anymore.

Moral Dilemma

Natcha Amornpiyakrit
#116-48 Galt Ave,
Penticton, B.C.
V2A 9C3

February 26, 2011

John Smith
Mayor
City Hall 568 Main Street
Small Village, B.C.

Dear Mr.Smith,


I write this letter to you, the mayor of the village, that I would consider getting rid of the evidence that Mr.Grass, the ex-mayor, was the commandant of the Nazi Concentration camp in Poland. My reasons of getting rid of the evidence states below.

      
Mr.Grass was one of the greatest mayor to the village. He served as a mayor for about 36 years. He was loved by all the villagers because of his well-being personality and a great model citizen. He made jobs enjoyable for people in the village and they were very reasonably well-paid in the factory he built and also benefits himself with the outcome of the profits. He was a very generous man. He would help out the needy. He would make sure that everyone in the village had enough money for their expense and food.


Although, Mr.Grass was the commandant of a horrific concentration camp, but perhaps, he was forced to be involved and was be threaten by The Nazis. He could possibly have no say to the situation as maybe they had his family at a gun point. Overlooking the fact that Mr.Grass was involved in the Nazi Concentration Camp, he was loved by the villagers and could of been re-elected, but he chose to tire due to his old age.


At last, it is the past, and why would you dig back up the past? I'm sure Mr.Grass has been in guilt of what he has done to many bodies and families. He was not the only one in part of the concentration, if you bring it back, you also bring back a lot of  non-peaceful memories as many have tried to erase the horrible history out of their lives.


At this point, I would consider getting rid of the evidence for the fact that it is the past and Mr.Grass has done many outstanding impact to your village to overlook what he has done in the concentration, which he could of been forced to at gun point. I would say leave it and keep the peace going.


Sincerely,
Natcha Amornpiyakrit

      

Cliches: Of Mice and Men

George looked up from shoeing the horse to see the outline of Curley's wife in the doorway of the barn. They were alone.

"Well, arent you all dressed up and have nowhere to go" exclaimed George.

"You know Curley, he likes his girl nice and tidy, but I'm not all dolled up for him" Curley's wife explains as
she walks closer to George and places her tiny finger tips on his shoulders.

"Boy! People were right about you, you're as horny as a three balled tomcat"George snickers, smoking a cigarette.

"A girls gotta do what a girls gotta do, Curley's always  busy as a bee with his work. He never has time for me!" she whines to George.

"Oh cheer up! It's not the end of the world, but you can't just be runnin' around like a chicken with it's head cut off" George said loudly.

"I'm so lonely! It's just me against the world and Curley's like a dog chasing cars, he's soo annoying." she cries turning to George to give him a kiss.

"Wow wow! Hold your horses lady! I know I'm a good lookin' guy and I'm not a huge fan of your husband, but I do have my limits. If you love Curley, you gotta put your heart in it. He's pulling your leg because he cares for you." yells George, backing away from Curley's wife.

"This is the thing, I don't like Curley, He's a pain in the butt, but you, you're

"He's giving you a hundred and ten percent, and you treat him like di..." as Curley's wife kisses George, Curley walks into the barn, looking for his wife.

"What in the world is going on in here?!??" Curley explodes angrily.

"Curley, it's not what you think it is, don't jump into conclusions yet, I didn't do nothin', your wife...." George got interrupted by Curley.

"It takes two to tango, I just can't believe you would do this to me again.. now you're gonna pay." Curley turns to his wife, grabs his gun, and shots her in the head before she could say anything. Curley then turns to George and shoots him in the head as well. He just looks at the silent bodies as he walks out of the barn.

"George?" Lennie whispers into the barn. Seeing the dead bodies of George and Curley's wife, Lennie's face turns horrified and thinks "George says 'something gone bad, go hide in the brush'." Lennie then runs out of the barn and starts heading to the brush where George tells him to hide if anything went wrong.