Sunday, December 15, 2013

The Crack

I am so, so happy. My first novel has been published! After a couple years of editing, reformatting, rewriting, and more, The Crack is available for purchase on Amazon!

This is a thrilling moment for me, and seeing my work in the hands of the public will inspire me to keep writing and keep creating so gradually, my ideas will be open for everyone!



I'm so excited!

If purchased through this link, a percentage of the profit will go to my middle school, William Alexander 51.

http://www.amazon.com/The-Crack-Lola-Lafia/dp/1494453282/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1387147964&sr=8-1&keywords=The+Crack+Lola+Lafia

Monday, October 28, 2013

My head is its own narrative.
It's strange, really.
I do something, and my mind immediately races to narrating the next move; what someone else may be thinking; what will happen later as a result of my action. It's like a book. Think about it. A novel written in 3rd person constantly switches between the past present and future- the internal thoughts of characters, the proceeding actions of characters. 
I see a mosquito, and I'm about to kill it, and I clap my hands together and my mind starts thinking about, in a narrator's voice, how the death of this bug will affect the whole population of bugs, and some other fantasy that my imagination forsees. 
I wonder if I'm actually looking into the future.

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

The world is on fire.
Slowly burning up, with beauty, with hate. With satisfaction, with discontent.
As I sit here at my desk and listen to the faint melodies of my brother playing piano, each chord he plays really feels like a movie soundtrack-as if it's narrating the next steps in my life. I feel like I have nothing going on yet I have so much. As if the whole world depends on one moment-this moment-yet in the end, it really doesn't mean anything. My head is always hurting, and everything seems so white and discolored and drained. Yet there are those few moments-those moments in school at my table in homeroom where everyone is laughing and the teacher is telling us to take out a book for Project REAL, and we keep laughing and speaking loudly and just feeling, through our carelessness, that everything is infinite. Those moments at home, when I'm talking to my mom, or dad, and I feel I can share my story. Or when I see my brother in his childhood innocence, speaking with attitude and confidence that the rest of the world doesn't realize how badly it wants. With my friends-not my "school" friends, per se-but with HLV and LP, I'm always in the middle. They really both hate each other. And although for a while it's funny, it's like, seriously, give it a break, as my dad loves to say.
The little things that make me smile, like when I drew a worm on the side of my finger and moved my hand up and down so it looked like the tiny creature was moving. Or those stupid jokes I'm always thinking of, pointlessly hilarious.
Although there's so much to do, I am, in this strange way, afraid of nothing. Like when I'm done applying to high school, I'll just have so much time! 
And all I want to do is play soccer, let the addreneline take over me and let my mind be swooped away and constantly be thinking about the next move. Or being at school with my friends, complaining and making jokes about how awful school is-but at least we're all there. Together.
People are afraid of nothing. Of emptiness. Because what are we supposed to do if we're not preoccupied? Really. We force ourselves to look up to someone, to follow the rules, to go along with the crowd. But what about those leaders? And those inventors? Who are they looking up to?
I just don't know. And I don't want to think. I want to just be in another world, focused-reading, watching, doing, playing, being, running, focusing. Not, just, being.

but u ain't done 'till u eat ur veggies huney. uh-uh.

See? That made me smile.

Thursday, October 10, 2013

Sammy.
Although I didn't really know you, you were a child. A kid, just like me. Like everyone other kid in this world. A kid who had things you loved, things you hated- a kid. And fate has swooped your childhood away, taking you somewhere- but that somewhere I am not sure of.
I'm sure you're not in heaven, or hell, although those are great excuses for where people are taken after their lives are taken away. You're not in a better place.
It's astounding- one day you were here, playing soccer, having fun, planning your bar mitzvah, and the next day? Nothing. Although it's not fair, stupid, and not right, it happened. It happened! If you can hear me in any way, I'm sorry.
Maybe you're in a parallel universe, watching us and copying our every move. But unless your soul escaped, that is impossible. I'm angry, because it's pathetic, and sad, and heartbreaking, and unfair, and I'm sorry sorry sorry sorry. I bet everyone feels hopeless and ruined and devastated and helpless. At school everyone, even us who didn't know you too well, was crying. Everyone was astonished and shocked and angry at the world. And people are dying every day around the world- every five seconds someone dies.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.


//dead//


But many of those people have lived full lives. Have gone to high school, college, gotten married, traveled the world. You haven't! And you were part of our community- although it sounds fake and cheesy, there is a community at school, in Park Slope, and you were part of it and now your gone.
Forever.
It feels like you have a broken leg or something, or have an illness, but you're not... gone. I'm so, so, so sorry for your parents, your sister, your friends- but I'm mostly sorry for you.
You ARE remembered, although I'm sure that's meaningless to you, as you're probably not aware of anything now.
Oh, gosh it's wrong. You will be a shadow in our lives, and you'll be there. I hope you have a great bar mitzvah, I hope you go to a great high school, I hope you find someone you love...
If you can.
Somehow.
Wait.
This is impossible! You can't be dead!
It isn't possible. But the impossible has occurred.
Wow, life sure is... magical...

Monday, September 9, 2013

Sometimes, I feel like I can't die. That I'm invincible. That I can fight off any force that comes my way and I'm just super, super strong.
I'm super confident about it. It's unusually, but it's true: I feel like I can run at the speed of light, I'm strong, I'm ready to empower the world and break the wall between today and tomorrow.
Whoa!
I have also just started school. I have a great glass, and pretty good teachers. And with my super human forces (metaphorically speaking, of course), I think, I know, I will have a great year.

Sunday, September 1, 2013

// Blog post on programming, written as a program.;

#include "stdafx.h";
#include ;
#include ;
using namespace std;

int_tmain(int argc, _TCHAR* argv[])

{
        string C++;
        cout << This summer, I did a programming camp at NYU. Thus completed, I have begun to conquer the language of C++. Learning a program is very similar to learning a foreign language; it has it's own words, it's own grammar, it's own order and system of organization. So throughout these five days in which I was immersed into the world the cout and the cin and the strings and iostreams and variables and integers and more municipal parts of C++, I began to get a grip on, simply, what is behind every electronic technological move I am constantly making. For example, just to turn on my computer there is a complex line of code telling it what to do, what to do if something out of normality occurs, or else to do this or that. A big part of the C++ coding was the idea of the if/else statements; if input = a, do this, else if input does not = a, do this. And that is 100% the backbone of life. If this doesn't work, we are always jumping to the else. So in fact, every time programmers complete chunks of code, they are pre-writing mini universes with each key they press. Now, what if a programmer is coding our lives? Maybe there's a formula for when exactly the sun rises and sets, for when the rain falls, for when food grows. But maybe the key is to become your own programmer. To start programming your self.

     return 0;
}

Sunday, August 4, 2013

//M|a|g|o|g\\

              family.

family re       ()             unions
                        empty              space
  relation                                                           poetry
                                 attempts            losses                                        friends
              siblings
who                                       gives                                       a fuck  
        she he me i you us                          together                                       abandonment
stories                              tears                                 laughs                                                 i




                      do





As July began to diminish and August slowly floated in, we visited our family in Magog, Canada. My father's mother, Gertrude Pattenaude, was born and raised in this province, and after my father's uncle passed away he lost contact with all his cousins. My parents are curious and they care and they want to reach every possible corner of this universe, so they contacted them and that led to, kind of, my first "family reunion!" We found our way to Francine and Bertrand's house (Francine is my dad's cousin and Bertrand is her hilarious husband), and we talked before we met the rest of the crew. After my explorations with all the people throughout the day, I'd really come to like them. Francine was the perfect aunt, and with her sarcastic husband, their skills combined, their humor off each other, and their making fun of each other, they were the funniest, most caring, and awesome, I guess, second-aunt-and-uncle! 
After the morning meeting, consisting of four fried eggs and a giant cartoon of raspberries eaten to their last bites, we got in the car and headed to the docks, where we met the rest of the family: Donald, Francine's brother, Sebastian (Donald's son) and his wife Mindy, Jonathan (Donald's second son) and his girlfriend. What was odd, I think, for our family, was that they were all so close and together- for us, we maybe see our relatives once a year and there's no true connection. But, I guess we were slowly accepted into their group and we had a blast on the boat! I ate a TON of cheetos and chips, talked to these interesting new people who were related to me, and swim in the freezing lake Memphramagog! Later, we had a barbecue and listened to music outdoors and played horseshoe, soccer, and a game where we tied balloons to string and then to our ankles and while defended our own balloons tried to pop other people's. It was really fun! It was Mindy and Sebastian's idea for their wedding, but they never got to play it so we got to enjoy it. Then, for dessert, Sylvie, Donald's wife, brought out this GIGANTIC tub of ice cream: "a big ice cream for a big family," she said! Maybe it doesn't seem like it, but at the time it was hilarious!
What I realized from that day was of course that family isn't just "important" but they're people that you can relate to and have fun with and talk to and more. But more than that, to do things in life, you have to reach out and take a step. We never would have had this great day if we hadn't made an effort to contact these people! What I'm trying to say is that there are so many great experiences to be had in life, and some of them will float to you but many of them take reaching out. So how are you going to turn down the burning water? Are you going to add cold, or are you going to simply turn down the heat? Okay, this metaphor doesn't quite fit this situation but I thought of it yesterday and it has some meaning. I love you family!

Monday, July 29, 2013

The Officer's Daily Log:

Québec City, Québec, Canada

Saturday, July 20th, 2013-
As we left Wellfleet, Massachusetts, our car was packed to the brim with the remaining artifacts of the experiences of the past three weeks. My parents constantly switching drivers, the ride took ten hours, with a stop in Vermont. I've never really been on such a long ride, and this was certainly very, very long. From playing Dumb Ways to Die and listening to every single song on our iPod to playing endless games of tic-tac-toe and rolling the car window up and down infinite times, we finally arrived in Canada! It was odd that we were truly in a foreign country as we had simply drove there! Although Cape Cod is my favorite place in the world, it felt, once we entered Québec City, like we were on vacation.
That night, after we checked into our hotel, Hôtel Manoir Victoria, we went to dinner at Chez Victor, where we had gourmet (duck, pork, and boar)burgers and a classic Canadian dish called Poutine, which is french-fries with a gravy sauce a clumps of melted cheese. C'est parfait. After the meal, we walked to the port where there was a stage set up within a grande outdoor theatre. The stands were already full, and there were multiple lines of people waiting to go in, but as the the beginning of the show took it's toll (you could tell by the energy of the audience), we ushered ourselves in (with a bunch of other eager humans) and luckily got a seat! 
The show was spectacular. There was a human cannonball, confetti shooting everywhere, gymnasts flipping in the air and landing on one another, ballerina's twisting and turning in floating hula hoops, clowns juggling fire and knives on unicycles, and much, much more. And as the lights flashed and the music blasted, the circus framed our stay in the region as a great one.


Sunday, July 21st, 2013-
We awoke on Sunday to find ourselves in a very different atmosphere than the Cape. The beds were very comfortable, and for breakfast we had some yogurt and fruit we had bought the night before. The markets in the city were very scarce and expensive- I don't think there's so much fresh food for the public to consume, and if there is, it's marketed at a very, very high price.
That morning, we went to a Siberian Spa. The whole experience was intertwined with nature, as everything was built outside into the forest. The method of the Siberians is hot, cold, relax. For step one, there were jacuzzi's built into to the natural rock of the outside and both wet and dry saunas all around. For step two, there were various cold plunges with icy waterfalls flowing from above, and you could also dunk in the river. As for relaxing, there were lounge chairs near crackling fires outside and multiple huts and coves with hammocks and cozy chairs. For the past few days, something had been bothering me and I was a little bit tense but the spa was, as stereotypical as it may sound, was very rejuvenating. 
After a French baguette, cheese, and some dried meats, we walked up to the Plains of Abraham where the battle of Québec took place.


In that battle, the French were taken by surprise and lost the future of self-governing, as New France was defeated by the English. From then on, the British ruled Canada, and to this day, the French, who had such a strong culture, they continue to struggle to keep the heritage of their past heritage alive. After, we toured the Citadel, the ring around the grounds that protected the fort.
I have traveled my entire life, been to so many places, and explored so many cultures. But throughout it all, the history of each land has been defined, explored, and played with so many times that what we have to understand is that with the facts that we know, we have to take our own insights and create our own historical events. The present is a repetition of the past, and yet the past is a prediction of the future, and everything determines everything and it's just one big circle and where are we really? We are in 1500, living with the natives, yet we are are in 2999, living in turbo jets with personalized robots: we are now, we are we are we are no definition we are what we are and I've just thought and thought and we are nothing so much as we are everything, living in the parallel universes of yesterday, today, and tomorrow, galloping through the seas of time, hopping like bunnies and swimming like seals through everything, yet does it matter? It's just a system, a circle, a machine, and every time it cracks it's only building a new system, toiling and ticking and moving and growing and shrinking and flowing and just, just everything. Why don't we abandon everything? Because everything is already abandoned. Oh no no no, we're all just big fat blobs floating somewhere in this universe searching and living and just being.


Monday, July 22nd, 2013-
On Monday morning, we lingered to the Old Port and took a tour about Samuel de Champlain, the founder of Québec City. Although Jaques Cartier came much earlier, Champlain created the first permanent French settlement in the territory. The women giving the tour was dressed in an outfit of the time period and described the events as if she was currently living in her description. We then saw a historic film playing with the idea that history is only personally interpreted.
We continued to explore the streets of the city, and wandered into a museum that had an exhibit on the history of video games. This kind of history is awesome! Life is just one giant video game, constantly progressing by moving forwards and backwards all at once. We started from the simplest games of the mid 1900s to the complex (although it doesn't really seem like this) Wii and Playstation and dance games of today. As we left the exhibit, we saw a giant sculpture of the Assassin from
Assassin's Creed: my brother (me too, I guess) is OBSESSED with the song! It just gets you pumped! Ahhh! That night, we had the greatest meal ever to enter anyones stomach throughout the entire universe. We went to an exquisite, hipster, high-end restaurant called Patent et Machent, which means little things and big things in French. It was superior. First of all, the atmosphere of the restaurant is superb, with chalk boards on the walls, old wooden tables, and dish towels for napkins. The vibe was great, and the French music made it even better. For an appetizer, we had a risotto (of course, it's like two bites on a giant plate) and a tartare de boeuf, which was amazing (small raw beef on a crisp,
toasty slice of baguette with a beautiful sauce). For our main courses, we had sliced deer and a slow cooked pork with exotic vegetables and a delicious sauce. It was just so good! To end the dream, we had the most perfect dessert: a white cake with an aged cheddar sauce. It sounded a little bit odd, but it turned out to be, actually, the best. Thing. I. Have. Ever. Tasted! Food is utterly superior.

Tuesday, July 23rd, 2013-
Looking back, today must have been a continuation of the extravagant food we had the day before. On Tuesday, we hopped into our car and headed to Île D'Orleans, a large island in the middle of the body of the St. Lawrence, in the mouth of the Atlantic Ocean. As the island has microclimates due to the positioning of its outer ring of mountains, it is the perfect spot for farming. This is where the farms of many of the small, budding businesses of Québec City are located. We decided to tour around the island in a circular fashion. We first stopped at an apple orchard, where we royally consumed some exquisite apple butter on a loaf of, well, perfect bread. Ah, perfect is such a deceiving and complicated word but this day was, at least in the food sense, absolutely perfect. Every time we go on vacation, we are never left without amazing food! 
As we ate the morning delicacies, my parents tasted some wine and my mom, in her eager attempts to wildly try unusual food, tried a duck confit parfait. Now, in New France we had already eaten multiple levels of "duck products," per se (many confits), but this one, being a parfait, was literally a duck smoothie- it was so creamed it was appalling that it could possibly be meat. All though this was awful, I still can't see the appeal of being vegetarian. I think I'm a very healthy eater, but I also disagree with people who eat way to little and strictly eat certain things and eliminate others because it's not "good for you". Actually, it's quite the opposite- eating balanced and hearty food is really good for your body. I'm not quite sure what this is really trying to sum up to, but, all in all, food is fantastic!
After raspberry picking, more wine tastings, visiting cheese farms, a black current orchard, a jam shop, sirop (as they say in French; we just thought it was how they pronounced syrup in English, but it's actually spelled like that! It was oddly hilarious to us) farms, an animal farm and lots, lots more, we were ready to retire for the day.
However, you cannot retire when the best is in front of you, as we were about to discover.
As we drove, tired and stuffed from a day full of eating, my dad spotted a small, gravel path leading up to something hidden. Being quite the curious one, he drove us up the road. We came across two large houses, and we decided to go into the left one as there was a sign that said "ouvert," open. We went in, and this women greeted us from behind a counter as we walked in to the coolest looking, cutest, retro, awesome little jam shop. It was so quaint and modernly old fashioned- walls were painted in this RETRO, my new favorite word, blue and chalkboards filled the room. They had an old refrigerator, blue, of course, which just made everything even better. Now, I really love design, and when something feels good and right to me, it's really great.
This shop was called Tigidou, which has a slick meaning in French, yet I'm not sure what it is. The women gave us some samples- the first compote we tried was a frozen jelly, much like a sorbet. It was delicious, and we continued with some other jams that continued the ecstasy. Okay, to some, this may not sound so great, but in my little world, it was so cool. The women, sensing our interest and getting the feel for us, asked if we'd like to see upstairs, which was a private room that they'd been working on since they'd started the business. It was full of old canoes, great lights, antique objects, couches, shelves with old books, toy cars, and more. The next room was a playroom with everything you could imagine: a ping pong table, air hockey table, punching bags, toy guns, a pool table, a record player, and more. My mom and I set off for a match of ping pong, which is such a back and forth sport (in the way that it's repetitive with the ball simply bouncing to and fro constantly) it's really very fun and relaxing. After we finished, we went back downstairs, but a sorbet and a few jams, and said good bye to our new friends. Anyway, this whole experience goes to show that a) there are some really kind people in this world eager to show you their little life b) some people just have a GREAT sense of design and c) who knew jelly and jam could be so great?!

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

I am home, once again. I am home, the home where the song of the land matches the song of me.
I am home to the bay, the sacred incove with the properties of the ocean but the security of a pond.
I am home to the ponds, the little droplets of water in which I flip, dance, and childishly swim in as if I am queen of the circular captivity.
I am home to the ocean, the traveler, whom I have met across the glob. The ocean, the sea, the waves of salt water grasping your hand and emerging you into a vast, quiet world of peaceful rumbling- back and forth, to and fro.


The
sun
shines
yet 
the moon 
does
too.
Darkness is
only
a
fiction.
 Who knew that the beauty of nature could be so close yet so giant all at once? I am sipping the freshness, drinking the virtue of the world each day, embracing the shape of the stones and the touch of the seashells, digging my feet into the hundreds of thousands of millions of grains of sand, grasping me and pulling me in by my soul.
I am experimenting even in my regularity. We all are. Coming here each here has brought the sense that this is my place. My time. My world. My return.



What is the Earth really composed of? 


Is it really all rock and fire and water and air and elements and all the other scientific classifications we have made? 



Or do we make the Earth? 



But then again how could we possibly be of any importance to this huge planet when we are only an addition? 



                                                                                                        We haven't been here from the start.




  Yet we are now, and we cannot let now be taken from us.

 While my mom ticks away at her days in the sea of work, the troops, my brother, father, and I, have explored every inch of our personal vacationland. We've gone to Long Pond, Gull Pong, Dyer Pond, Great Pond, Duck Pond, Spectacle pond, Newcomb Hollow, Lacont Hollow, Whitecrest, Mayo Beach, the Audubon, Lieutenant's Island, Great Island, Uncle Tim's Bridge, and every where else not classified by name. We've rented boats, flipped off, and laughed like helpless, reckless, excited children.
We've told joke after joke, tried to humor-ise the unhumerable. We've told stories and read book after book. We've played game after game, rounds and rounds of endless card games. We've walked the same walks and swam in similar waters.
Yet this similarity is so new and inviting and still has room for exploration. I have really enjoyed being with my family, creating games, foods, stories, everything with my brother, and mostly, the scent of freedom is in the air.
Summer!

Tuesday, April 16, 2013


Frankenstein


Frankenstein.
On that stage, I felt alive. Fresh. Transported to a different world. Strong. Impacting. Powerful. Real.
With the right cast, devotion, sets, lights, costumes, and acting, you can really create something.
My 7th grade drama class just performed Frankenstein. It was the original story by Mary Shelly, but my teacher, Mr. McEneny, adapted it. I think he's a very good teacher. A little TO into it, at times, but overall, the simplest way to say it is that he's really cool. As a younger kid, I'd always loved make-believe, playing, parallel universes created by me. And he really takes acting to another level.  He said earlier today, "I have prepared some activities for us today." I don't know why, but that made me excited in a calm, happy way. Drama is more of a fun, innovative class, as oppose to the other serious courses we take. I don't know, but after the state tests that morning, it felt quite good.
We are doing a process drama now, where the story is set but it is really the actors, us, that determine its past. The one we started today was set about 50-60 years into the future. Somehow, due to pollution or some unimaginable trigger, world population has highly decreased, due to the fact that it is becoming almost impossible for women to have children. Schools are closing, orphanages are shutting down, and eager parents are left with no possibilities for these mini people needed to complete a family. Suddenly, one day, 19 couples all over the world receive a thick, grey envelope, with the words "The Grey Institute" inscribed on the front. Within the package, there is an exact address in New York City. It is an invitation to come to 36th street between Broome and Nevins, building number 178, floor number 6, room number F14, using the code TGI36B+N178FN6RMF14 to unlock the door, on the 16th of April, 2076 at precisely 9:48:11 a.m. with your spouse. The letter states that this may be the chance to receive a child. 
So we go their with our partners, and a man named Mr. Grey tells these 19 couples about the new, very secrete pill he and his team have put together. One pill, one measly pill can, within a few weeks, rouse a child with the true DNA of its parents. All of us, all so eager to raise a child, have to explain why we would become the best parents. Only six couples receive the Grey Pill. However, how can we trust this man? This stranger? One who has the answer to all our hopes and dreams right in his pocket?
Back to Frankenstein, I honestly had a thrilling time with it. It was so, I don't know, empowering! With the awesome lights and dramatic music during the creation scene to the seriousness of the Lunatic Asylum scene, to the sorrowful Frankenstein household: It was very exciting. I played Justine Moritz, young William Frankenstein's , the little brother of Victor Frankenstein,  governess. I auditioned for the part, and received it! It was a significant role, and I felt like an important part of the story.

Sunday, April 7, 2013


Tuesday, April 2, 2013

One can glide... gently roll with the shape of the hill... cruise along, breath in the cool, fresh mountain air... embrace the movement... go.
Or one can can move as if acting out dramatic music... back and forth... jerking everywhere.... down, down, down... fast... gaining speed, like a bullet... shooting down.
I've just come back from my very first ski trip! I, for one, as a beginner, chose option #1. Gliding. Enjoying the sport in a smooth, soft, gentle way. My audacious skier-friend invited me on this adventure- one I gobbled up and enjoyed very much. For them, skiing is an action movie: fearlessness abounds. 
Although I am quite audacious, I am most certainly not there yet! After two days of lessons, however, I feel confident in myself with these new tools on my feet. It's all about balance, and feeling comfortable in your movement; rolling along with the flow of whatever level run one may chose. Being able to bend your knees, eating up the delicious adventure in front of you by feeling comfortable with yourself. And mindset. Fear must be pushed away, or it will lead you into places that, with a strong mental approach, you would have been able to avoid.
With that cheeky smile, I will be -I am- ready to face the world.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Humans-
Are like busy bees.
They can't stop
                                 Moving.
                                                  Moving.
                                                                  Moving.
Uh-oh. The rain's coming!
Uh-oh. The snow's coming!
Uh-oh. Life's coming!


Why?
Shovel, plow, hammer, saw, snow-blower, rake, this-tool, that-tool, rain-tool, snow-tool, shovel-away-the-life-tool. 
Stop. Let it be. Still. Alive. 

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Drop the Bomb

Everyone has those situations when they have something urgent and dire to admit to someone else, but they're hesitant to speak up. But they all ponder somewhat the same thing: "When should I drop the bomb?" When's the right time to tell them the news?
And it's tricky. If you chose to tell them at the wrong time, it might alter the whole situation.
'Drop the Bomb" is a virtual game that experiments with the meaning of 'the right time'. There will be about a hundred situations programmed into the game, each one trickier and more complex than the previous. The strategy is to logically think about the right time to 'drop the bomb'; to tell them what they don't want to hear. Clues will be given at various times, indicating how the second character is feeling. You, as the primary character, will have to logistically think about when you want to share the problem. If you don't, you somehow get zapped and loose the level.