Writing is innate. Write from your heart.
Before I knew how to run, how to swim, how to dress and tell the good from the bad, I learned how to take care of a garden. Most girls and their Nivea-nurtured palms had nothing on my dirt-christened hands.
Grand Central Station, New York City, July 1938 “You're getting cold feet, sugar?” Distress over my mother's words manifesting was ringing in my ears, pulsating in my throat egregiously. Not even a hint of sweetness in an off-putting pet name Darren had given me could make me re-focus. When he had proposed the plan to me months ago, the inside of me lit up like the surface of the sun. It would be the first judgment call not influenced by my mother. What other choice was there? The only industry growing far wealthier than any other in these uncertain times seemed to be Hollywood. There wasn't anything for me left in New York, other than prospects of washing dishes with the Irish or quivering upon hearing the latest news of Charles Luciano and his gang threatening us. And La Guardia? What was he doing for us? Darren should have known better than to entangle himself with the man who posed like a beacon of hope yet was so perversely connected to Luciano. I could pretend, too. And get paid for it. My mother would see reason once I'd get cast in pictures and make money. Darren didn't want to spend his life in the service of more extraordinary men when he had vivacious plans to change the world. Who had better experience acting than the fellow who polished La Guardia's shoes and pretended he liked it? Was that all Italians were good for? Was it all that a Puerto-Rican woman was good for? I remember the first time I met Darren on the hotel's steps that La Guardia was staying at. So young and handsome, unable to hide his temperament, so he hopelessly swayed his body from side to side just to occupy his tingly nerves, his hunger to prove himself. Then his father suggested he'd become a banker, get an education, and Darren went out of his way to do the opposite. "What's wrong with education?" I asked him one night, sipping Manhattans at Polly Adler's shameless bar. Luciano had already been there, flirting with the woman as if he wasn't married to another. "It's useless when you lack connections, sugar," Darren said to me. So we devised a plan to escape our miserable, immigrant circumstances. If there was a man I trusted with my life, it was the man who valued me as an equal. It was the man who expected more of me, who asked me what I wanted to do with my life. It was him, the Italian immigrant with spite in his heart and whimsical ideals, that was probably going to get us killed. I sat in a café at the Grand Central Station with nothing but a man and his promise to be there for me if we failed. The keen edges of metal ornaments curled in a chair stung my back, a white belt around my waist a metaphoric reminder of how restrictedly I had lived until now.
Madam Zara´s Predictions For the Gemini
Every one of us has one question on our mind: When is this madness going to be over for good so that we can get our lives back on track? Why not indulge in finding out what the stars have prepared for our grand return to societal life in the meantime?
Destined Love Is a Flawed Premise
If I could laugh through tears, I would, but alas I´m not that cynical. The afore-mentioned quote is attributed to Daeida Wilcox, a wife of Harvey H. Wilcox, a man who purchased 120 acres of land from the original 480-acre ranch, sometime in 1887 – a land on which the green, indestructible vines of show business sprung from.
Valentine Is Not That Into You
Another year. Another fast-flying February. Another Valentine´s Day. A holiday that unless falls on a weekend or an actual national holiday, does not count as a holiday on your tax roll.
Idiot Sandwich Has Entered The Chat
You don't have to be an avid supporter of Gordon Ramsay or James Corden's fan to be a sucker for memes. You might ask yourself why a college student would think back on a meme from six years ago and not only write a whole article about it but draw inspiration from it - especially amidst an ongoing pandemic.
A Nightmare on Elm Street is scarier than you remember
Remember when Johnny Depp was a serious actor and on a roll to make a respectable name for himself? Yeah, me neither. But I do remember the movie of his that made me a hardcore horror genre fan: A 1984 classic, A Nightmare on Elm Street.
Everyone Needs a Daily Dose of Spark in Their Life
Do it the British Way Iskra Lawrence is a thirty-year-old sunshine activist from England, a kick-ass storyteller, an empathetic human being, and an ultimate fighter in all the senses this words can encompass it.