My World Turned Upside Right

Use your imagination with this scenario:

After two years of taking hard core schedules of biology and chemistry courses, your life is uprooted and planted in a different world that you’re used to.

This new world is small; even in its minuscule appearance the products of this world are comparable to the universe our human world resides in. Once I used to squeeze the names of the 20 amino acids (alanine, arginine, asparagine, aspartic acid, cysteine, glutamic, glycine, …) into my brain much like when I attempt to zip close a stuffed suitcase for winter break by sitting on it. It’s in there, but by the sheer faith in the strength of a series of interlocking metal nibs.

This new world requires me to pull out the silver thread of creativity from my mind’s eye, weave it into a delicate and intricate web of words. That’s the beauty of being an English and Writing major. Life isn’t filled with formulas and unbelievably long words for every component Life is made up of. Life isn’t analytical anymore, nor so rule heavy. Don’t get me wrong, the linguistic world I’ve moved into definitely has its fair share of rules. Such as, how to properly use the semi-colon and knowing the difference and significance between the n-dash (–), the m-dash (—), and a hyphen (-). Yes, they are not the same and are not used interchangeably. In this world, playing with the rules in your favor is encouraged. I can move freely, stretch myself out, and take up the space I need. My fingertips work in conjunction with my mind and soul to fabricate my own unique universe.

Fragments of my old world still cling to me like a child with a long loved blanket. That part of me will never fade to dust; it’s embedded into what makes me, me. I’m along for the ride to discover more worlds I’ll assimilate in.

Hello my dearest readers,

It has been a long time since my last published post, way too long for my liking. I present to you the first of a series of writing pieces I have written in the course of the past four months I’ve been AWOL.

Fall semester definitely kicked my butt and tested me in ways I never would’ve expected. I dived into the pool head first without any floaters. This past semester I was taking all english and writing classes which I’ve concluded was a very bad idea, at least for me. I was overwhelmed with writing assignments meanwhile my brain was still rewiring itself, thus causing me to be unable to produce my best. This is also why you haven’t seen any activity on TinyBlueBackpack since August. While I’m not at my best in terms of mental health, I see the clouds receding in the sky.

This Fall semester wasn’t a complete dud. I discovered that technical writing, as in magazine feature writing, is not my niche; and that I gravitate towards creative writing.

Next semester I begin the process of creating my own graphic novel by creating the story and further improving my illustration skills. In addition, while I met many crappy people which is expected in Purgatory I have met a group of very special individuals that have joined me in endless memories, that keep me sane, and that are there for me at the drop of a hat.

2016 was an overall rollercoaster from Hell kind of year (more on that in a future post before New Year’s Eve). But, 2017 will be a year of growth, happiness, and adventure. I’m excited to see where we go.

Much Love,

Krizia Isamar Bruno

Anxiously Excited

15 days, 10 hours, 38 minutes, and 50 seconds.
15 days, 10 hours, 38 minutes and now 34 seconds.
In 15 days, 10 hours, and 38 minutes I will commence my third year of university.
I’m excited, but I’m also anxious.
I say “Hello again” to the gates of purgatory. Still the same with its academic buildings Swartz and Fisher, the Commons and the Library flanking the sides of the quad. Its suites, townhouses, and apartments spread across the campus. But, the environment, the feeling of purgatory has changed, just a little bit.
This year I begin a whole new life at purgatory. Instead of a Biology/Pre-med student, I join the ranks of the English students. Stepping into a world filled with lovely words, thoughtful prose, and the inevitable all-nighters typing away at a computer trying to complete an essay that is due at 8 am the next day.
I start fresh or dare I say this year is a re-do of sorts. A second chance to get things right, the way it’s supposed to be.
However, I cannot ignore the dark stain, like spilled ink on white paper, in the sky over purgatory.
A stain in the bright clear blue sky with its tentacles creeping steadily stagnant in its place.
A stain soaked with the memories of heartbreak, pain, and nothingness. A stain wretched with all things detrimental to one’s identity, to one’s sanity.
I’m weary.
I keep an eye out searching, checking not once but twice. Checking for any spread of its tentacles. Checking for advancements to block my view of the beautiful bright sky once again.
I will try and try again and again to keep myself underneath the radiant light of day. A new life filled with ambition and drive. A do-over from the life underneath the dark stain in the sky.
I will try and try again and again to hinder its plan of leeching the warmth of happiness from me once again.
I cannot help but think. You see, thinking brings forth clammy hands, racing heartbeats, a tight chest restricting the flow of breath.
I cannot help but reflect on the words of my favorite poet Sylvia Plath in her novel, The Bell Jar:

“How did I know that someday – at college, in Europe somewhere, anywhere – the bell jar, with its stifling distortions, wouldn’t descend again?”

And thus, I begin my third year at university anxiously excited about the possible fresh start, the new, the better, healthier life in purgatory; or the looming probability of the stain’s spreading dark tentacles or the descent of a bell jar.

Nevertheless, wish me luck.


Proud Matriarch

She sits there,

Silently observing.

Years and years go by,

And she sits there,

Silently observing

With a content smile on her face.

She watches as her children grow-up,

Her children’s children,

And her children’s children’s children too!

She sits there,

Proudly as the matriarch

Of a loud, robust, plentiful family.

I sit here observing,

With eyes filled with wonder.

My heart explodes inside my chest;

Filling my body and soul with love.

I say, “Happy Birthday Mama,”

Again and again,

“I love you more than the stars in the night sky.”

She sits there,

84 years and counting,

Happy and proud.


A Girl

A girl can have many dreams.

A dream of happiness, of success.

The dream of becoming who she is,

And of who she will be.

A doctor…

An artist, a writer…

A traveler, a role model…

A web developer.

A girl never stops dreaming.

A girl can become whatever her heart desires.

It needs no question. No adversions;

If she wills it, she gets it.

Society says, “Just pick one.”

But why?



Why must a girl stick with “Just one,”

When her heart yearns for them all.

A girl never stops dreaming.

A girl will become everything her heart desires.


Oh the amount of nerves firing under my skin. It has taken me a lot of courage and a lot of balls to publish my poem on my blog. This poem exemplifies how I currently feel in terms of where my future will lead me and which careers I plan on pursuing.

Thank you!