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About Literature / Hobbyist (Actually) Cindy ChenFemale/United States Group :iconwe-write-to-escape: We-Write-To-Escape
To write is to escape
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Literature
Dear Admissions Officer
Dear Admissions Officer, 
My dad told me earlier this year that the college admissions process is all about luck. How much you like me at a first glance. Just my name on paper. Out of twenty thousand applicants, how can I make you choose me?
My dad told me that there are too many valedictorians in this world. Too many 4.0s. Too many SAT scores that are just like mine. Too many kids who play piano. Too many kids who play viola on top of piano. Too many kids who want to study computational biology. Too many kids who place in international math competitions. Too many kids who write. 
Too. many. kids. 
It comes down to how I can get you to like me when you first see my name on a piece of paper. So I gave you and your institution a piece of my heart: I told you about my dreams, about my aspirations, and about why I wake up every morning.
I told you why I chose you.
However, you didn't choose me back. I'm not mad, though. If there was a formula about how to get into universiti
:iconnotCindyChen:notCindyChen
:iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 10 10
Literature
wishes upon a star
once upon a time, someone, somewhere, wished upon a star.
but it's probably not during this lifetime. or the lifetime before this, or the one before that. and it's not in this world. it's in one that we could only imagine, somewhere thousands and thousands of light years away.
someone wished upon a star, then. i don't know what he or she wished for. i don't know what life that person led. maybe it was happiness that led him to wish upon a star. maybe it was desperation. maybe it was wistfulness. but as that star twinkled in the night sky, a wish was cast upon it… someone, somewhere, believed that a single speck in the dark sky had magical qualities.
and maybe it did, because the star brought me you.
seven percent of our body mass is made of hydrogen. the other ninety-three is made of stardust: the remnants of a wish, the proof, perhaps, of a dream come true. and by some coincidence, you ended up in my lifetime, in my world, in my life.
that wish must've been a beautiful one.
:iconnotCindyChen:notCindyChen
:iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 8 9
Studying by notCindyChen Studying :iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 5 3
Literature
(not) white and pretty
grandma once told me i wasn’t white enough
because of my
sunkissed skin and
ankle sock tans.
against all the other a m e r i c a n girls,
i’m dull,
a weed against all the roses.
i wanted to—
h i d e behind layers of makeup,
underneath foundation and concealer and blush and
finally have pretty, full, lips that aren’t cracked and bitten and
eyelashes that are way longer than naturally possible.
i’m not
pretty.

my legs are too short;
my arms are twigs and
my body like a shapeless cardboard box.
my hair is brown and unstyled,
my face is imperfect,
my eyes lined with dark circles.
if—
i were just a bit paler,
my hair just a bit lighter,
wavier,
my legs just a bit longer;
maybe, then, i could be pretty too.
i know what grandma was saying when she told me
i wasn’t white enough;
but i don’t want to be another clone,
faceless and shapeless against all the colors of the world.
i’d rather be me:
all five feet, n
:iconnotCindyChen:notCindyChen
:iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 42 19
Literature
seven ways to win your best friend's heart
i. tell her things will be okay
cover her imperfections,
replace her insecurities with compliments
and reassurances.
( you helped me learn to love myself )
 
ii. forgive her 
when she apologizes.
wrap her in a tight hug.
tell her it’s okay.
( i’m sorry i ever hurt you. )
 
iii. take her feelings
( my anger, sadness, and worries. )
put them on a shelf.
and help her walk away.
 
iv. don’t break your promises
( that hurts more than you know )
and don’t make promises
if you know they’ll be broken.
 
v. make her laugh
until she’s crying tears of joy
and you can’t get her to stop.
( i love how your jokes only get cheesier )
 
vi. stay
even if destiny takes you miles away.
( don’t leave, because i’ll miss you. )
 
vii. know
that she’ll do the same for you
any day.
( because i love you. )
:iconnotCindyChen:notCindyChen
:iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 28 8
Literature
little infinities
we are finite. 
trivial in the vastness of eternity, and
bound by the limitations of life.
but our own little infinities,
those hopes, dreams, and wishes,
traverse throughout time
and linger in a million forevers.
:iconnotCindyChen:notCindyChen
:iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 14 9
Literature
reach.
i wish that you had held on to me for a little longer
and a little tighter before we said goodbye. because
all you left behind is a million little pieces of me,
shattered and
empty.
i see you now,
hundreds of miles away from me inside the computer screen,
and i am reminded of the life you’re now leading,
the friends you’re meeting,
and how i’m no longer part of that.
we’d laugh and joke and stay up past three,
but we both know it’s not the same.
i know i couldn’t have gone with you,
and i know my own happiness would come with time,
but i so desperately wish that
i could go back to a time when you were still right here
within my reach.
:iconnotCindyChen:notCindyChen
:iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 7 11
Literature
Untouchable
    The silence fell over us. Even the spectators, who, moments ago, were loud and obnoxious, quieted down.
    The man in the bright orange raised an arm. He stood at the middle of the large, grassy field that only ended when the wooded area began. He yelled some instructions about the start. My teammate beside me fidgeted; we were all restless, eager to begin. Runners behind the starting line were no different than racehorses at their gates.
    The whistle sounded; a long, sharp, shrill tone that penetrated the air for several seconds. We took a step back; two hundred sets of feet hit the ground at approximately the same time. A uniform thump. We leaned forward, anticipating the sound of the gun. The silence seemed to suspend in the air for an eternity, then—
    “Bang!”
    We took off, letting go of our inhibitions, racing forward as fast as our feet could carry us
:iconnotCindyChen:notCindyChen
:iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 3 13
Literature
Sounds of War: Prologue
    June, 1938
    I jolted awake, startled by the sharp raps at the door.  Blinking several times, I tried to make out the time on the clock. It was dark, but I could make out the numbers. It read 1:29. The shuffling outside my bedroom door told me that the rest of my family was already awake. Someone had lit the lamps in the hallway, and I saw a thin strip of light under my door. All except my younger sister, Zoya, who’d just turned one a few weeks ago, must have woken up. In some ways, I was jealous of her oblivion. So young, so innocent.
    Another knock—except this time, it was more of a boom. "NKVD. Open up," a rough voice said. The declaration was unnecessary. We all knew it was the police.
    My heart pounded against my chest. Thump, thump, thump. What did they want? In the back of my mind, I already knew the answer.
    They were coming for my fa
:iconnotCindyChen:notCindyChen
:iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 1 4
Literature
022. Online
Andrew is offline. He will receive your messages when he signs in.
    Me: Hey! It was really nice to meet you at the convention last weekend. (: Not sure if you still remember me, but yeah. I actually came across your name on the roster for the math competition next month. I didn’t know you were doing that! But I guess I’ll see you around more, soon? (;
    Alright, so, maybe I had developed a slight crush on the guy who’d presented his project on an image guided drug releasing nanoparticle to treat cancer. He was cute and nice and funny the few times I’d talked to him at the convention. I found that he lived in my area. And participated in the same kinds of extra curricular activities I did.
    … and I found all that out through Facebook stalking. Is that something a normal person would do? Is it even acceptable? As I stared at the screen, I wondered if he even remembered me, and if he’d think I&
:iconnotCindyChen:notCindyChen
:iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 5 13
Literature
Tuesday Nights
On Tuesday evenings, no matter where we were, or what we were doing, we’d always drop everything to see each other. One night out of the entire week, you were entirely mine, and I was entirely yours. If we were sitting across the country from one another, we’d stare into each other’s eyes on Skype and laugh and giggle. Or maybe we’d send each other silly emoticons over text and talk for hours on the phone. If we happened to be in the same area, I’d invite you over and we’d watch a movie together. I’d curl up against you, and afterward, we’d talk about life and how fortunate we were to have each other. Just one night out of the entire week, we’d forget about schoolwork and everything life could possibly throw at us. For just one night, I was the center of your world.
That’s how I want my Tuesday nights to be, anyways.
Also, it doesn’t have to be Tuesdays.
:iconnotCindyChen:notCindyChen
:iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 1 2
Literature
Nerves
heart beats:
thumpthumpthumpthumpthump.
as regular as a clock’s,
but as fast as a runner’s.
fingers entwined in hair,
spin, twirl, spin.
restless.
palms sweating ,
stomach dropping,
body shaking,
wishing you could disappear.
excitement. dread. fear. emptiness.
unease.
deep breaths:
inhaleexhaleinhaleexhale.
inhale exhale.
inhale.
exhale.
trying to regain control,
but to no avail.
the world starts in slow motion;
the future creeps closer.
but the heart beats only faster,
racing,
uncontrollable:
thumpthumpthumpthumpthump.
:iconnotCindyChen:notCindyChen
:iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 8 6
Literature
Pathetique
Her name was Aria, and she talked through her music.
Otherwise, she was silent. Nobody knew why; just that something awful had happened to her, something awful enough to take away her voice. Her eyes were always sad, and her smiles were always forced.
Sometimes, I’d hear her play the piano. When she played, her sadness would disappear, replaced by something like bliss; but only for as long as the song lasted. If one listened closely when she played, one can hear her voice: sweet, sincere. And if one looked closely enough, a genuine smile can be seen. But she’s in another world, one of music, unreachable by the rest of us.
I asked her to play for me once, to which she obliged happily. She chose the second movement of Beethoven’s Eighth Sonata. I knew it was one of her favorites because I had heard her play it often. She always executed the piece flawlessly - the beautiful A major chords, the famous cantabile melody, the rise and fall of each line. I could tell w
:iconnotCindyChen:notCindyChen
:iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 23 28
Literature
if only you knew how to swim
they say it’s just like walking,
except without the security
of the ground beneath your feet.
 
and you sink instead.
 
you open your eyes underneath the water;
and for just a moment,
you see a picture of
serenity.
 
your lungs scream for air.
 
inhale. because you’re not
sure what else to do,
and because there doesn’t
seem to be a way back up.
 
panic as water starts to fill up your lungs.
 
you reach for someone,
anyone, even though you know
you’re alone. still,
you find the strength to kick.
 
relief as air fills the body.
 
but not for long;
the water was stronger.
it drags you down again.
panic sets in;
you hold your breath.
 
but you stop trying.
 
you wonder if it’s still worth it;
to fight. or if it’s just better to
close your eyes.
let the water hold you. fill up
every inch of your body.
 
if only you knew how to swim.
:iconnotCindyChen:notCindyChen
:iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 20 13
Literature
Promise
the little red heart slipped into my hands, radiating warmth and love. a set of hopeful eyes gazed up into mine. i nodded a silent promise. there was a new weight upon my shoulders then, as i tucked it away. i’ll keep it safe. away from the cruel, cruel world.
- c.c.
:iconnotCindyChen:notCindyChen
:iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 4 0
Literature
Highschool
Clocks Ticking.
Pens Scribbling.
Voices Talking.
Restless Hearts,
      Waiting.
:iconnotCindyChen:notCindyChen
:iconnotcindychen:notCindyChen 2 2

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notCindyChen
(Actually) Cindy Chen
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
United States
Hi! I'm Cindy. My username is a reflection of the angst I have regarding my name. I'm an eighteen year old girl living in the United States. I'm a pianist, violist, cross country runner, and writer. Feel free to look around... I don't bite.
uhhhhh hi.

here and there, really. starting and finishing my first semester. blogging, youtubing, writing. being myself. :) 

not sure if i want to come back to dA or just lurk around some like i did last semester. i find that i wrote more when i was around... but i haven't really written in... forever haha. 

are there any pieces of lit you want me to check out? LINK ME.

:heart:

Comments


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:iconunfaithfulstars:
unfaithfulstars Featured By Owner Aug 10, 2015  Student Writer
Hey there fellow Asian
You look really pretty in your ID <3
Reply
(1 Reply)
:iconskullhips:
skullhips Featured By Owner Jul 1, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
I haven't talked to you in a long time, so I decided to reach out to you again. :heart:
How are you? :hug: 
Reply
(1 Reply)
:iconwovenlioness:
wovenlioness Featured By Owner Jun 5, 2015  Student Writer
Thank you so much for the fave dear!! :heart: I'm so glad you enjoyed reading my little poem~ :huggle: Hope you have a great day!
Reply
(1 Reply)
:iconbritish-prophetess:
British-Prophetess Featured By Owner Apr 13, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks for the fave! ^^
Reply
(1 Reply)
:iconcomatose-comet:
comatose-comet Featured By Owner Mar 26, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
thanks for the fave :rose:
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(1 Reply)
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