The document is a collection of 8 short stories or reflections from the perspective of a single narrator. The stories touch on themes of family, friendship, love, emotions, and finding meaning in life's simple moments. In one story, the narrator recalls fond childhood memories of lazy mornings spent with their parents and siblings. In another, the narrator finds comfort and understanding during silent moments spent with a loved one. An overarching theme across the stories is using life's challenges to cultivate appreciation, wisdom, and peace.

1. Heart on a Sleeve
areeya kunawaradisai

2. It is both a blessing
And a curse
To feel everything
So very deeply.
— David Jones

3. i.
If I met my seven year old self today,
What would I tell her,
What would I say to her?
Would I warn her of the future,
Of the bad things yet to come?
Or would I leave her be naive,
To keep having fun?
Because my seven year old self,
Believed the world a perfect place,
Would she recognize herself,
When she looked into my face?
Even though I’ve learnt so much more,
And ten years have passed since then,
I would give up everything I have,
To view life through her eyes again.
— e.h
Warm rays of sunlight flooded our bedroom as Dad parted the curtains. I
squinted at the light that rudely interrupted my sleep before snuggling closer to Mom as
Dad trailed his way back and slipped under the cozy blanket.
Five minutes passed. Or fifteen. Or, just maybe, thirty.
I squiggled away from Mom and closer to Dad, nuzzling my head into the nook
between his neck and shoulders. Then I drifted off into my world of dreams once again.
A long pause.
We were mostly awake then. I opened my eyes to my parents lazily smiling at me
while Wansuk continued to sleep peacefully. I grinned back as Mom shifted and pulled
me into another hug. That woke Wansuk up. He stared at us with his mouth hung
opened and his eyebrows knot. It was a funny face. My parents laughed. I laughed.
Our family never needed much to be happy. Time together meant lots of love and
smiles and laughs. Dad used to say, “Find joy in the simple things; it’s what makes life
worth living.” I hope I never forget that.
A moment later, we were all cuddled up, ready to drift off into sleep yet again.
“Let’s just have you guys skip school today.”
And, if I may say, ​that​ was the absolute best, most joy-giving part.
>>>>>—<<<<<

4. ii.
If you ask me what I came into this life to do, I will tell you: I came to live out loud.
— Émile Zola
The kiddies table was never a place for me.
Wansuk would pout and cry if his different foods were touching, and Tawan
would rather whine to death if he had to eat anything other than omelette. I had no use
for any of that. So, instead, I invited myself to the adults table.
Tonight was just the same. I sat between Mom and Dad and across from my aunt
and uncle with my feet dangling off the bench and my chin barely rising above the table.
We were talking politics.
I was neither a shy kid nor was I ignorant about current events—thanks to the
morning news I watched every day at breakfast. So I, the wee, little kid, chimed right
into the conversation. I chatted and commented a little, and I jabbered and argued some
more. And, somehow, they all let me do that at will.
Perhaps that was a little obnoxious. I had hardly turned eight and certainly did
not belong at the adults table quite yet. Still, they didn’t care that I was young. They
didn’t care that, at times, I got facts completely mixed up. Instead, they listened to me
and let me voice my opinions. They patiently explained things to me and laughed with
me when I made silly mistakes. They allowed me to express myself just as I was, and
they treated me like an equal—worthy of being heard and seen.
They let me know that I deserve to be bold and confident. And I’ll carry that with
me till the day I die.
After a while, I got bored. Wansuk and Tawan had finally finished eating, so it
was perfect timing. I strutted over to them and wore my widest grin.
“Let’s go play some hide-and-seek! I’ll be the seeker. You two go hide.”
I closed my eyes and began to count down as they ran off squealing and giggling.
Maybe I’ll go back to the adults after a few rounds of this.
Honestly, it was a good, good life.
>>>>>—<<<<<

5. iii.
A glimpse through an interstice caught,
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of
a winter night, and I unremark’d seated in a corner,
Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and
seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand,
A long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath
and smutty jest,
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps
not a word.
— Walt Whitman
I sat on the concrete floor, leaned back against a locker, and waited. The lockers
area was our place. We’d go there whenever we needed to fight or when we just wanted
time together. Today, thank goodness, was just a hangout day.
“Hey.”
I looked up as he walked over and sat down next to me. He had a tired, soft smile
that I knew all too well. It must’ve been a long day at work. I put my phone away and
smiled.
We began to chat about our days. Normal, simple things. And, eventually, silence
set in.
We continued to sit next to each other, lost in our own thoughts. Some time
passed, and our conversation naturally started again. Then we took it from there. No
awkwardness, no discomfort, only ease and understanding.
. . .
This was my favorite thing about us—silence was never uncomfortable. We
understood that we didn’t have to talk or do something constantly to feel intimate and
connected. We were simply content to sit together, his hand holding mine, talking little
if at all. It was how I knew that he loved me not only for what I said or did. It was how he
knew that I loved him, even if I struggled to show it at times. It was how we knew that
the love there was honestly, truthfully real.
For silence is where we find ​genuine love​.
>>>>>—<<<<<

6. iv.
The jealous are troublesome to others, but a torment to themselves
— William Penn
I’d had enough.
There was no way I was staying here anymore. What if they felt bad when they
saw I was gone? Well, good, they ​should​ feel bad. That will show them. Who did they
think they were to ignore me? How ​dare​ they? How could they sit around and pretend
like I didn’t even exist? I was not going to stay anywhere I wasn’t wanted. I swear they’ll
have a taste of it once they realized what they had done to me—oh, yes, they will. And
it’s all ​their​ fault.
As soon as the three-minute game ended, I jumped off the bleacher and stormed
right out of the gym. Where would I go now? Not the dorm. Too many people, too many
questions. I had to get out. The swings will do.
I slumped down onto the seat and huffed and puffed. ​If they come within the next
fifteen minutes, maybe I’ll forgive them. ​So I waited. And I waited. And I waited. I could
still hear the loud laughters and clamors going on in the gym, but it was beyond quiet
out here. Then it hit me.
No one was going to come.
Of course, no one was coming. Who did I think I was? They were probably having
so much fun, joking and laughing. They probably hadn’t even noticed I was gone. Why
would they come for me? I wasn’t worth it. I was nobody.
Deep down, I knew these were lies. But for some twisted reason, it was easier to
accept that they didn’t care than to believe that they did and try to rationalize why they
hadn’t come. So I cried. And I cried. And I cried.
Still, no one ever came. Not one.
The world was quiet tonight.
>>>>>—<<<<<

7. v.
I walked a mile with Pleasure;
She chatted all the way;
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say.
I walked a mile with Sorrow,
And ne’er a word said she;
But, oh! The things I learned from her,
When Sorrow walked with me.
— Robert Browning Hamilton
The bathroom floor was cold and uninviting, but I could not have cared less. It
was late at night—I didn’t know how late it was exactly, but it was late even for me. On a
normal night, I would’ve been in bed, dead asleep. But tonight was not a normal night.
So there I was, sitting wide-awake and puffy-eyed on the cold tile, rocking myself gently,
wishing and wanting with every fiber of my being that I could just stop existing.
Gone.
I didn’t want to die. No. Dying and ceasing to exist are very different. One is, well,
dying. The other is simply taking a break and escaping from life completely for a time.
And, tonight, I was suffocating. I needed to disappear. ​I needed to.
But the cold, hard truth remains. I couldn’t stop existing without dying. It didn’t
work like that. There was no way out for me.
Please, God. If you’re really, actually there, just let me go.
I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want this anymore.
A wise person once told me that if you’re drowning, no one can help you up if you
refuse to be still and reach out your hand.
So I took a deep breath—then I dialed the number.
“Hi Mom, would you talk to me for a little while? I really need you.”
Breathe.
>>>>>—<<<<<

8. vi.
I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am. I am. I am.
— Sylvia Plath
My perfectly chill night was ruined by a single Snapchat story. Perhaps it wasn’t
for a good reason that I freaked out; but the next thing I knew, I’d thrown my phone on
the white table, screeched at the top of my lungs, and dashed as fast as I could.
Where was I going? Anywhere but where the phone was. What happened to my
friends? I had no clue. All I knew was that I needed to get away from what was inside
that phone. I didn’t want to see it—not ever again. So I sprinted on.
When they finally came for me, I had already crawled up the middle school tube
slide and stationed myself within it. It felt like a cocoon—safe, secure, and calming. It
was exactly what I needed.
“There you are!”
Tian, Julia, and Dave poked their heads in as I reluctantly slid down to the
opening with a pout. As soon as they saw me, they laughed. And once I realized how
ridiculous I looked—a seventeen-year-old senior, pouting, hiding up in a slide for
tweens—I started to laugh as well.
We began to chat, tell jokes, and laugh and snort and smile, me still poking out of
the tube and them sitting around on the floor. And everything was well again.
Far too often, I forget how important being present was. Overthinking and
over-worrying are the killers of life. What good did it do to fixate on things that won’t
bother me a year from now? Right now, right here, I was with the people who loved me
for me and whom I loved. That was all that ever mattered.
So I took a deep breath and listened to my heart.
This right here, I was ​loved​. This right here, I was ​enough​.
>>>>>—<<<<<

9. vii.
wonder
/ˈwʌndə/
noun
1. a feeling of amazement and admiration, caused by something beautiful,
remarkable, or unfamiliar.
I could always count on Grad to be the funkiest person around.
It was a Tuesday night, and normally our group would be sitting in her
apartment, chatting and discussing life and God and things akin to that. But this week,
we’re standing in a single-filed line under canopies of trees somewhere, blind as bats,
saved for some lights from our phones shining on the glistening pathway. We were
going to see her “Willy the Whale” that isn’t really a whale. She said it was a waterfall.
The air felt cool against my skin and smelled of earth and rain and trees. It was
the kind of smell that felt refreshing and clean—like the breath of life itself. We kept on
walking farther, water tickling our feet and gurgling, crashing sounds of the waterfall
growing louder with every step. And, finally, we reached the end.
It took a moment for our eyes to adjust to the dark after the lights went off. The
edge of my feet touched a reservoir, or at least something like it, filled almost to the
brim with some dirt patches and rocks nearby. And at the edge of the reservoir, high up
into the sky, the waterfall towered over everything else. Majestic and powerful.
We all went silent.
I couldn’t help but feel small. How could I not with something like this in front of
my eyes? Nature and the galaxies and the Earth were grand beyond measure, and I was
merely a speck of dust. Yet, I was still part of it all, and they lived through me just as
much as I lived through them.
I breathed the air in and took one last look at the waterfall before we started
trailing back to Grad’s apartment.
This was ​awe​.
>>>>>—<<<<<

10. viii.
Be as a bird perched on a frail branch that she feels bending beneath her, still she sings away all the same,
knowing she has wings.
— Victor Hugo
I could feel the sea of grass tickling my legs and the dampened earth beneath as
the ocean breeze grazed my arms and the moonlight glimmered and shone. Amidst the
stillness, the tree branches swayed to the rhythm of the winds as the waves came
crashing onto the shore. Everything else was in utter silence.
Quiet and undisturbed.
I don’t know for how long I sat there on the soccer field, but it was late at night.
Still, I continued to sit, watching the moon and stars, listening to the wind and waves,
feeling the grass on my legs and hands, thinking not much if at all.
But then the numbness faded.
Then I felt jealousy and anger burning like the fires of hell. Then I felt sorrow
drowning me alive. Then I felt the pain of loss crushing my heart into a million pieces.
Then I felt loneliness coming over me like a dark sheet of despair. Then I felt nothing.
Nothing at all.
Breathe​.
Slowly, something began to shift. I didn’t know how it was possible. But it was.
The moon was smiling down on me. The branches were dancing for me. The breeze was
hugging me. And the waves were whispering to me, “​You are loved.​”
And then the numbness faded.
And I felt joy pouring out on me. And I felt love enveloping me in an embrace.
And I felt ecstasy lighting up my soul. And I felt revival rushing through my veins. And I
felt awe washing over me. And I felt peace.
Peace and nothing else.
. . .

11. My whirlpool of emotions is both my safe haven and my very own hell.
Sometimes I conquer it, and sometimes it conquers me. There’s a lot more that I’ve still
to learn and grow and a lot more for me to wrestle with. But, without it, this is what I
know—I wouldn’t love the way I love, know the things I know, think the way I think, do
the things I do, or be the person I am meant to be.
And, for that, I am forever grateful.
>>>>>—<<<<<

12. Works Cited
“A Glimpse by Walt Whitman.” ​Poetry Foundation​,
www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/50478/a-glimpse. Accessed 5 Mar. 2018.
“A Quote by David Jones.” ​GoodReads​, Goodreads,
www.goodreads.com/quotes/6963725-it-is-both-a-blessing-and-a-curse-to-feel.
Accessed 12 Apr. 2018.
“Emile Zola Quotes.” ​BrainyQuote​, Xplore,
www.brainyquote.com/quotes/emile_zola_385861. Accessed 5 Mar. 2018.
JF. “E.H Poems.” ​poetry4u​, PencilDesign, 11 Oct. 2017,
poetry4u.net/e-h-poems-google-търсене/. Accessed 5 Mar. 2018.
“Robert Browning Hamilton.” ​GoodReads​,
www.goodreads.com/quotes/289683-i-walked-a-mile-with-pleasure-she
-chatted-all-the. Accessed 5 Mar. 2018.
“Sylvia Plath Quotes.” ​BrainyQuote​, Xplore,
www.brainyquote.com/quotes/sylvia_plath_107659. Accessed 5 Mar. 2018.
“Victor Hugo Quotes.” ​BrainyQuote​, Xplore,
www.brainyquote.com/quotes/victor_hugo_152535. Accessed 5 Mar. 2018.
“William Penn Quotes.” ​BrainyQuote​, Xplore,
www.brainyquote.com/quotes/william_penn_383614. Accessed 8 Apr. 2018.
“Wonder.” ​Merriam-Webster.com​, Merriam-Webster, 2018,
www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/wonder. Accessed 5 Mar. 2018.