Lulu’s Loose Screw

Empty.  My thoughts are empty. No, my brain is empty. Like when it’s 1:30 in the morning and you got your fan circulating in the background. Clearing out your mind. I think these white-noise boxes are designed to suck out the thoughts from your brain. But isn’t that what I come here for? Every time, I sit here hearing nothing but the same static from the sound screens. Anything repetitious can drive you mad. The heavy beats of water dropping on my air conditioner from the neighbor’s air conditioner upstairs. Leaving me blinking in the darkness at 3:15am. Just staring. Waiting for sleep to muffle me. Smother me in its sweet blackness. Sleep. The buzzing is dilating in my brain. Crescendoing and decrescendoing in a blur. Can sound become a blur? A blurry image? The haze of a desert morphing into a mirage along the horizon. Constantly seeing mirages. Whirring in a disappearing-and-reappearing act rapidly. A portal.  Maybe the silence of my thoughts, that emptine...

Originally handwritten in diary: November 10 th , 2016/ 11:38pm Typed/Edited for this blog: January 2 0 th , 2018/10:30ish pm I never told my parents, my sister, my ex, or my own diary (until now) about the time I was sexually assaulted. I had been grabbed, groped, assaulted twice on the platform of 42 nd and Times Square before. I remember what I was wearing the first time: a short orange polo-looking tennis skirt with three plastic buttons down the middle and vertical pleats along the bottom; tucked into the skirt, my most-prized worn-out paper-thin black Guns N’ Roses shirt that had the band stenciled in white on the front and their name featured in an orange banner above them. He just slid his hand up that orange skirt I loved to sport and disappeared in the crowd as I spun around to see if anyone else saw what happened to me. I remember standing on the platform full of nameless strangers, watching them blur away, further and further away from me. That was in ...

While everyone is all abuzz with excitement over the “new” IT , I left the theater very underwhelmed. Admittedly, I was a seesaw of emotion from the pre-production phase, being that Stephen King is my favorite author, and the 1990 IT my favorite horror movie (I watch it annually, every fall, and have for decades). Even still, I followed the events unraveling over the readaptation for years with rapt anticipation, went through all the news, from one director dropping out to another picking the project up. I was even there when Eddie Izzard was rumored to play the infamous Pennywise. So I went into this new movie, trying to shed my bias, but within minutes, I was let down. I remember being really iffy before the movie came out, and remember the trailer completely changing my mind. I went in thinking, maybe this movie will be closer to the book: it was not. I went in thinking, I hope the same magic is saved: it was not. I went in thinking, maybe the movie will be amazing ...

  Have you ever asked yourself, “Hey, am I spelling that right?” Rest assured, you are not the only one mixing up the spelling of words. Specifically, many people are guilty of interchanging two words that sound the same. These types of words even have their own word; they are called homophones, which is Greek for “same voice” or “same utterance.” This type of typo is all too common and the following are a few I have compiled to teach the proper tools. First off, before we begin, I would like to quickly discuss contractions. Contractions are words that combine two words into one, replacing a dropped letter with an apostrophe. Commonly used contractions are “don’t,” “can’t,” or “didn’t.” In these cases, the apostrophe is taking the place of the “o” in “not.” Keeping contractions in mind, one of the most popular misprints in writing is interchanging “your” with “you’re.” Let us start with the contraction. “You’re” stands for to words “you” and “are,” an...