Welcome back to the blog. Our January writers have been posted and there is quite the variety. There is a total of 15 submissions for this month. Please, make sure you read ALL of the entries. Chose five from the list and leave your feedback and comments for the writer. Your January comments are due by Tuesday, Feb. 7.
Writers,
Thank you for your pieces. Keep an eye on your page, checking the comments as they post. Respond to three comments left on your page AND leave comments on two other entries. Your comments are due Thursday, Feb. 9.
Have a great weekend and enjoy the entries.
Happy Reading!!!!!
Mrs. Solano
Friday, January 27, 2017
How To Ice Skate--Sophia
Well it’s winter now, and there are several of you, who I am sure have gone ice
skating during this season. If you don’t know, I am here to teach you how to ice
skate. For 9 years now I have played ice hockey and know the game pretty well if
you ask me. I get asked by lots of people to teach them how to skate and let me tell
you it’s not easy at first. This is not a step because it’s common sense, but make
sure you wear warm clothes. It tends to get pretty cold inside an ice rink, especially
if you’re not moving a lot. Now onto the steps! Step 1: Make sure you get the
appropriate skate size. This is extremely important because if the skate is too big it
makes it harder to skate. You typically want to go down 1 or 1.5 shoe size(s). For
example, I am a 6 in womens shoes but a size 4 in men’s (make sure if you’re a girl
that you know your size in a men’s shoe) and I wear a size 3 skate. Step 2: Get a
feel for the ice when you first step on. If you aren’t comfortable hold onto the
boards if you have to. This part is important so you can get comfortable before you
actually start to move. Step 3: Bend your knees a little, widen your stance. This
helps you keep your balance so you don’t fall on your butt. Step 4: Now that you
have fixed your stance, start to push off one leg and then to the other to get going.
Be careful not to go too fast and if you do, stop moving your feet and just glide on
the ice. Step 5: Be safe! If you fall it’s no big deal just get up at your own pace, but
you also have to be courteous to the other skaters around you while getting up and
getting out of the way. Step 6: Have fun! Don’t get frustrated if you can’t perfect
skating right away. It definitely is hard and takes time to learn. It took me months
of lessons when I first started to actually be able to skate and compete on an actual
club team. To this day I still have to take skating lessons just to work on my form
and edges, which proves that you always have room for improvement. Next time
you go ice skating remember these steps and enjoy!
The Life You “Chose”--Vanessa
You’ve lived fifty years and your next editorial is due in an hour. You contemplate your topic,
and with such little time you settle on something that has intrigued you for as long as you can
remember; How much of your life is dictated by fate — a nd how much was free will? You’re
upper middle class, as you’ve always been, and married to that guy from university who always
reminded you of your Dad a little bit. Fate, the inevitable, the predetermined, could that be your
driving force? Considering your circumstances, maybe something was written in the stars for
you after all. You never really decided to marry someone as frugal or silly as your own father or
even pursue a writing career. As simple as it sounds you really believe the stars aligned just
right. Every ignored phone call, missed bus, wrongly extended nap and detour on the freeway
was inevitable — carefully calculated “mistakes” leading you on a one path route to where you
are today. Each and every one of your decisions have already been decided; perhaps by future
you who waits on you to perform. Nonetheless, unconvinced you are even special enough to
have a predetermined destiny, you might map each event down to a mere coincidence, and
resolve you do in fact, have free will. You determine you are your own driving force and you
have the power to make choices and even retract them as you please. To you, the future does
not exist. You prefer to be in control of your life and particularly like that you can change your
path tomorrow if you wished. But consider karma, does every action you execute cause a ripple
of consequent actions? Maybe it’s that blue shirt you dug out of the laundry, or late paper
submission that inescapably led you to meet your husband or have your first child. You’re fifty
and you’ve finally turned in your editorial a minute before it was due. You turn to your smiling
husband. You envision your life if you would’ve never “chosen” that college or taken that job
interview. You know something this perfect could’ve never been just by chance. Que sera, sera.
What Is Success--Landon
Gucci Mane wisely said “ If a man does not have the sauce, then he is lost. But the
same man can be lost in the sauce”. When I was younger I used to fear the dark but, as
I got older that fear reemerged as a fear of the unknown. How will my life turn out and
will I be successful. But, what is success? Success is most easily defined as the
accomplishment of an aim or purpose. However, the media portray success as the
attainment of popularity and profit. Successful people are characterized as having
money, cars, a cushy office job, and a big house. People then use those characteristics
to determine their personal value based on how much money they have, how big their
house is,or is their car the newest model. So how do we achieve this so called
“success”? From a young age we are told that we can achieve success through hard
work. So allow me to provide you with this visual. A single mother with three kids works
two jobs to provide for her family. Yet, she can barely provide enough to live in the small
apartment she rents. Most people wouldn't define this as success but rather a struggle.
She’s working as hard as she can but, she’s still not seen as successful. Now let's say
we have a 20 year old male doesn't have a job but, somehow drives a Ferrari, goes
clubbing every weekend, and even owns a mansion. All thanks to his trust fund. Most
people envy this lifestyle and hate him out of sheer jealousy. Nonetheless we still
consider him successful. Hard work does not necessarily equal success. In fact working
too hard for what society perceives as success can leave you feeling extremely empty.
Contrary to popular belief, the acquisition of materialistic items will not make you feel
successful. When most people say that, “I just want to be successful” what they are
really saying is “I just want to be happy”. Success is just happiness in what you are
doing. We’ve been lead to believe that you cannot have success without wealth. That
belief is going to lead us into a life of unhappiness. If you were the CEO of a large
company, had a fat paycheck, a brand new whip but, hated your job. On the outside it
may appear that you were successful. However, you personally would never feel
successful. Money and material things should never be confused for happiness. If you
were a garbage man but, you loved going to work every day not only would you would
feel successful, it would feel like you were hardly working. I'm not telling you to throw
away your plans to be a biochemist and get a job as a sanitation worker. I 'm just saying
to be happy with whatever you do. Albert Schweitzer said it best, “Success is not the
key to happiness. Happiness is the key to success. If you love what you are doing, you
will be successful.” so as we grow older and we set off on career paths don't forget to be
happy in whatever you're doing. Never get lost in your pursuit of the sauce.
same man can be lost in the sauce”. When I was younger I used to fear the dark but, as
I got older that fear reemerged as a fear of the unknown. How will my life turn out and
will I be successful. But, what is success? Success is most easily defined as the
accomplishment of an aim or purpose. However, the media portray success as the
attainment of popularity and profit. Successful people are characterized as having
money, cars, a cushy office job, and a big house. People then use those characteristics
to determine their personal value based on how much money they have, how big their
house is,or is their car the newest model. So how do we achieve this so called
“success”? From a young age we are told that we can achieve success through hard
work. So allow me to provide you with this visual. A single mother with three kids works
two jobs to provide for her family. Yet, she can barely provide enough to live in the small
apartment she rents. Most people wouldn't define this as success but rather a struggle.
She’s working as hard as she can but, she’s still not seen as successful. Now let's say
we have a 20 year old male doesn't have a job but, somehow drives a Ferrari, goes
clubbing every weekend, and even owns a mansion. All thanks to his trust fund. Most
people envy this lifestyle and hate him out of sheer jealousy. Nonetheless we still
consider him successful. Hard work does not necessarily equal success. In fact working
too hard for what society perceives as success can leave you feeling extremely empty.
Contrary to popular belief, the acquisition of materialistic items will not make you feel
successful. When most people say that, “I just want to be successful” what they are
really saying is “I just want to be happy”. Success is just happiness in what you are
doing. We’ve been lead to believe that you cannot have success without wealth. That
belief is going to lead us into a life of unhappiness. If you were the CEO of a large
company, had a fat paycheck, a brand new whip but, hated your job. On the outside it
may appear that you were successful. However, you personally would never feel
successful. Money and material things should never be confused for happiness. If you
were a garbage man but, you loved going to work every day not only would you would
feel successful, it would feel like you were hardly working. I'm not telling you to throw
away your plans to be a biochemist and get a job as a sanitation worker. I 'm just saying
to be happy with whatever you do. Albert Schweitzer said it best, “Success is not the
key to happiness. Happiness is the key to success. If you love what you are doing, you
will be successful.” so as we grow older and we set off on career paths don't forget to be
happy in whatever you're doing. Never get lost in your pursuit of the sauce.
A Whole New Life--Celeste
May 15, 2015: It
was the day where I, myself was still in shock. I never knew this day would
come, but I mean I at least hoped it will, just not so soon. Just waking up in
a nicely cooled hotel and seeing your own mom being pampered for her big day
was a lot to take on. Just to think that your hero who has been a single mom
for sixteen years is finally getting married! I remember walking down the aisle
with my sister throwing flower petals and seeing everyone’s eyes on us and how
awkward it felt. As we see our mom exchanging vows my sister starts to cry and
I laughed because the camera man was pointing the camera towards her. It was a
fun day and I thought from then on out, my life was going to get better. Not to
mention, I knew all of our lives were going to be different now that there is a
man in the household.
About a month
or two later, we move in with him and it was hard too. He always had work some
could not help us out and for three girls it is very hard to carry out a
refrigerator and a whole couch. His place was small and the room my sister and
I shared before was smaller and I did not like that at all. Ever since the
move, my mood changed and instead of being happy I was just negative. I always
closed my door in my room and would hardly come out of it. The only times I
ever came out was when the food was ready. I have moved before like about 2-3
times, so moving to another school has also made me become very sad. The only
good thing I thought about the school was the band since I thought they were phenomenal.
Each day was the same in my mom and step-dad asking me how my day was and I would
always reply “it was whatever”. I did not like my lifestyle and just wanted to
move back to how it was, especially since now there were so many rules that I
thought were unnecessary. It took me awhile to open up to my step-dad, I mean I
have never lived with a man in the house or had a father figure in my life. I
also was very picky with the food, he grew up in Texas and I grew up, well
let’s just say in a Mexican home. He did not like certain foods that my mom
made, while I love it! He also cooked some of the food my mom made in a totally
different way and I just missed her cooking so much. Not only was the food
changed, but my sister and I had to change the way we act around the house such
as her not farting all the time or me with my burping at the table. Sorry! I
can’t help myself if the food was good. If a guest came over, I knew they can
sense the negativity in the room between the tension of my sister and I with my
step-dad. My mom had to always talk to me about opening up to him and to give
him a chance since I was more of the “not being opened” type. He is a cool guy
for my mom, it just felt weird.
Fast forward to the summer of 2016, the time
where we get a new house and I have my first bedroom ever. The house was way
bigger and we actually have a backyard and a recreation center with a pool. I
always told my mom, “we don’t look poor anymore,” she would always get upset and
said we were not before but I guess I'm not used to the whole “American dream”
lifestyle. Two months later, we get our very first puppy and he is the most
adorable thing ever! His name is Gunner and I call him our therapy dog since he
always cheers us up when we are down. It is also crazy because we all get along
now too and are actually looking like a “family.” Living with my step-dad for
about a year and a half now has opened me up to talking to him more and being
nice. I also started to get in contact with my father. Every now and then my
step-dad likes to scare me in the dark which I do not enjoy at all, but i have
grown to laugh it up. I also appreciate him more for what he has done and giving
us a better lifestyle with this new home and a better school. He has been there
most of the time financially and has opened up to me about loving me as his own
daughter. Even though I call him by his name, I truly do appreciate everything
he has done for my sister and I, it will just take some time to fully open up
to him and not be quick to fight back. Each day I am seeing him as a father
until I am off to college and I hope my sister will also become closer to him
since she has a longer stay with him.
The Moment I Lost My Dad --Safa
It was Wednesday October 12, 2016 - two days after my parents had just come back from a two week trip to Turkey. Without a doubt my parents are the two most important individuals in my life and so their return was incredibly comforting for me. Thrilled and filled with a feeling of content, I rushed out of school racing to my house as fast as my legs could take me, enthusiastic to greet my parents with hugs and kisses the second they walk into the front door. I was certainly delighted that I would no longer be left alone with my brother who wasn’t as helpful around the house when my parents were gone. That Wednesday I went to school just like all the other days, the everlasting routine of my stressful student life. I fell asleep halfway through my last period of the day and once the bell rang at 2:55, I left the classroom walking to the front of the school. I then, slowly realized that I had forgotten that I was obliged to tutor in the library that day. Fatigued and completely lethargic I called my mother to pick me up, having no intention or desire to tutor that day. Shortly after calling my mother, she picked me up and in the car. I asked her the daily repetitive questions of what she had done that day and what would be for dinner, and in return she responded with the same usual answers. Arriving home I hurriedly left the car and joyously opened the door connecting the garage to the laundry room, and ran up the stairs to my room realizing how quiet and peaceful the house was while both my dad and brother were in their rooms sleeping. Opening the door to my room, I glanced at my cozy, soft, and neat bed, excited for my daily after school nap. I quickly changed into my pajamas, washed up, and then prayed my daily prayers. After I had performed my prayers, I jumped into my bed, burying myself under my snuggly, flower scented blanket. Placing my head on my tempurpedic pillow was my dream come true that I’d been daydreaming all day about at school, and within a instant I fell into a deep sleep. After a while, I suddenly heard a loud BANG! BANG! BANG! in the distance, being abruptly woken up from my loving nap by the harsh noise. Someone was brutally and vigorously pounding on the front door, and being in a deep sleep I wasn’t responsive in action to the reality happening downstairs, so instead I speculated it to be only a part of my dreams. BANG! BANG! BANG! The harsh pounding continued and slowly I started to unravel the covers from above my head, enraged by the idiot who was stupidly disturbing the silence of the house. Moments later I heard footsteps in the house stomping and scurrying down the stairs as they finally opened the front door and the pounding came to an end. Within a matter of seconds my eyes shot open staring at the ceiling of my room and before I could take my next breath I heard the strongest most powerful crash/thud on the floor. While undergoing excessive tachycardia my brother started yelling…OH MY GOD! BABAAA! BABAAA! BABAAA! I lunged out of bed thinking it was either gunfire or someone had kidnapped my Dad. Yanking my room door open, a panic attack overtook me as I observed my brother running down the main staircase and my mother running down the other staircase. I understood something bad happened yet, not knowing what had exactly occurred, I ran to the edge of the stairs, bending down to observe the scene. Chills ran up my spine and the pulse in my head started throbbing. This was the moment I lost it a ll! Witnessing the worst scene of my life, was the sight of my beloved father laid faced downward on the tile with blood gushing from his head at the foot of the sharp edged granite counsel. Promptly my mind shut down, and a feeling of numbness took over my entire body, rendering me motionless at the very top of the stairs. Eyes blurry, throat clogged, breathing being difficult, time had stopped for me and I could barely process the weeping noises in the background. The only question that I kept asking myself while everything transpired quickly was “HOW AM I GOING TO LIVE MY LIFE FROM THIS DAY ON WITHOUT MY FATHER?” Everything suddenly fell into place and I snapped back to reality, as I shot down the stairs screaming from the top of my lungs, crying “DAD, DAD WHAT’S WRONG, DON’T LEAVE US!” While my mother and brother were around him on the floor, I sprinted to the front door that was left wide open, relentlessly weeping while insanely believing that someone had killed my father and ran away. “CALL THE AMBULANCE!” my brother yelled out multiple times. Then I noticed a large, heavy box on the floor. I was then able to process and understand what had occurred: that no one had hurt my dad, and that actually the man at the door had been a delivery guy. Yet I couldn’t stop screaming, and turning around I recognized my dad’s eyes rolling while slowly muttering “Why is Safa screaming, What happened, There’s nothing wrong with me, I’m OK?” Immediately, I felt a vast sensation of relief as I walked over and started to wipe the blood from his forehead, knowing that my father hadn’t left me, and that after all I haven’t lost it all. And upon hearing the loud sirens and ambulance provided me with even greater relief knowing that my Dad was going to be saved. Opening the door, four men ran in and began their operations on my Dad, as I observed in the background waiting to help them out with anything possible. Being told to go get my Dad’s medications, my eyes were filled with tears as I thought of the terrifying things that could happen next. As the men rolled my Dad to the ambulance, my brother followed behind. I ran to my mom as she was still frightened and told her to hurry up and get dressed to follow them to the hospital. She hugged me tightly and comforted me by saying, “your father is fine we need to stay here and wait for your brother to call.” After that incident, I was absolutely sure that nothing is far more valuable in my life than my parents, because I had found out that my life can change so rapidly and so unexpectedly within a blink of an eye. I thank God everyday and night for showering me with unexpected blessings and protecting my Dad from any real harm. Clearly, I never knew how much I honor and love him until the very day I witnessed the shocking scene that will always be engraved in my memory for the rest of my life. I love you Dad!!!
The Role of A Father --Ariyan
When I was younger, I used to be happy the few times you did come around. I was blind to
the fact that you didn’t act how a real dad is supposed to act. As I got older and more critical
about your whereabouts you started saying that you loved me in that really dramatic way
to try to emphasize your love or whatever. But there was one instance where I just couldn’t
say it back. The words were stuck behind my teeth and my small forced grin. While I hoped
that my reluctance didn’t stand out to you, I finally took a deep breath and rushed out an
Iloveyoutoo, knowing I didn’t mean it.
Then your visits became more spaced out and you stopped returning my calls. When I was
in your area and tried to make an effort to hangout, not because I wanted to but because I
thought it would be the nice thing to do, you were suddenly nowhere to be found. The
unreciprocated effort soon lead me to not only me giving up to trying to see you but also a
myriad of negative thoughts about you.
Sadness- I look around me and see many of my peers with fathers that care enough about
them to protect them in any situation. Why have I felt the most unsafe around you?
Anger- How do you wake up each day knowing your daughter is hours away from you
struggling not only financially but mentally because of all of the weight that is on her
during this time? Why aren't you there to support me?
Confusion- I wondered what it was that was so much more invigorating and fascinating
that you couldn’t take time to see your one and only daughter. Was I truly that insignificant
to you?
Despite all of the problems I encountered with you that are too hard to even think about,
and the despite the many emotions you’ve made me feel, I still thank you.
Thank you for shaping my perspective on how much single mothers can accomplish.
Thank you for exposing me to the truth of how men can be.
Thank you for teaching me that just because you start life off in a good place doesn't mean
you end up in one.
From you I know how to navigate my life so I can live the best life that I can, and I’m not
sorry that you won't be apart of it.
the fact that you didn’t act how a real dad is supposed to act. As I got older and more critical
about your whereabouts you started saying that you loved me in that really dramatic way
to try to emphasize your love or whatever. But there was one instance where I just couldn’t
say it back. The words were stuck behind my teeth and my small forced grin. While I hoped
that my reluctance didn’t stand out to you, I finally took a deep breath and rushed out an
Iloveyoutoo, knowing I didn’t mean it.
Then your visits became more spaced out and you stopped returning my calls. When I was
in your area and tried to make an effort to hangout, not because I wanted to but because I
thought it would be the nice thing to do, you were suddenly nowhere to be found. The
unreciprocated effort soon lead me to not only me giving up to trying to see you but also a
myriad of negative thoughts about you.
Sadness- I look around me and see many of my peers with fathers that care enough about
them to protect them in any situation. Why have I felt the most unsafe around you?
Anger- How do you wake up each day knowing your daughter is hours away from you
struggling not only financially but mentally because of all of the weight that is on her
during this time? Why aren't you there to support me?
Confusion- I wondered what it was that was so much more invigorating and fascinating
that you couldn’t take time to see your one and only daughter. Was I truly that insignificant
to you?
Despite all of the problems I encountered with you that are too hard to even think about,
and the despite the many emotions you’ve made me feel, I still thank you.
Thank you for shaping my perspective on how much single mothers can accomplish.
Thank you for exposing me to the truth of how men can be.
Thank you for teaching me that just because you start life off in a good place doesn't mean
you end up in one.
From you I know how to navigate my life so I can live the best life that I can, and I’m not
sorry that you won't be apart of it.
The Night I Lived--Rachel
On October 29, 2016 I was in Santa Barbara visiting my boyfriend Dallin. It was date
night and we decided to grab some frozen yogurt and walk down the beautiful State Street and
window shop. It was the weekend before Halloween and all of the college students had come out
to party. We saw a “Cinderella” fall down to the side walk and act like a child while her “Prince
Charming” tried to help her up but seemed a little dazed as well from intoxication. It was
freezing cold outside so we hurried back to my car. After we had finished our frozen yogurt we
tried to come up with a fun activity to do. We decided on rock climbing even though I am
deathly afraid of heights. We found out that they closed early due to the festivities of Halloween
so Dallin suggested we go jump off Goleta Pier. He didn't think I would actually say yes, heck I
never thought I’d say yes to jumping off anything over five feet. Maybe it was the sugar from the
yogurt or the fact that I’m crazy for him and like going on adventures with him but I said yes to
both of our amazement. As we drove to the pier I bombarded him with questions of sharks and
death and landing wrong and he reassured me that it was safe and that he had done it many times.
I was so anxious that I felt sick as I drove and anxiety was swelling up inside of me as we neared
the beach. I parked in the almost empty parking lot near the base of the pier far from the light of
the cafe that was open to a few college students snuggling to keep warm and drinking hot
chocolate. I got out and took my shoes and socks off and locked the doors and stashed my car
keys on the tire. I left my clothes on because it was freezing cold outside and I wanted to savor
the last feeling of warmth I felt before plunging into the cold abyss. The pebbles of the parking
lot were hard beneath my soft feet and I cringed as I felt little shards of glass here and there
almost cut me. Dallin had the toughest feet so he didn't notice and he seemed to not notice the
cold either. The pier was long and it seemed like it took forever to get to the end of it. A few
fishermen were out doing some night fishing and they looked at our bare feet as we passed them,
and walked to the end and found a dark corner. I looked down over the thick wooden railing and
saw the dark glistening waters below and saw dark shadows and shapes and pictured sharks
waiting for me. I heard the water softly lap against the pillar of the pier and thought it could have
been a nice romantic setting if we had just planned to walk out there and stare out at the ocean
and not jump in. I was so scared out of my mind that I started shaking and breathing rapidly.
Dallin told me I didn't have to do this but I felt that I needed to prove to myself that I can do
crazy things. I wanted to experience doing something out of my comfort zone. The next ten
minutes were spent with me hyperventilating and then calming down and Dallin picking me up
and setting me on the railing to position me and then taking me back into his arms as I freaked
out and realized how high up we really were. Finally I was able to climb over and step onto part
of the foundation of the pier underneath and waited for him to climb over and join me. We stood
there holding hands and staring at the water. I looked at him and wished I could be as fearless as
him. He looked at me and said that he has done this jump five different times and each time he is
just as scared as his first time. I felt comfort in knowing I wasn’t alone in my feelings and waited
for his count to three. I closed my eyes and let him pull me with him. I had enough time through
the fall to scream and then not scream and then scream again right before I hit the water. My
body sank so low into the water that it took longer than I had anticipated to reach the surface. I
knew the water was freezing but so much adrenaline was coursing through me that it felt warm. I
saw Dallin make his way to the ladder underneath the pier and I followed, feeling giddy and
nervous of the creatures that could have lurked beneath me. We climbed up to the maintenance
level walk way underneath the pier and sat there. I started shaking with cold and the realization
at what I had just accomplished and Dallin hugged me and said he was so proud of me for doing
something that I was scared to do. We gingerly made our way up the steps to the top of the pier
and past the fishermen staring at our wet clothes. As soon as we got back to the car, we stripped
down to our underwear and cranked up the heater. I was still shaking but I was smiling.
night and we decided to grab some frozen yogurt and walk down the beautiful State Street and
window shop. It was the weekend before Halloween and all of the college students had come out
to party. We saw a “Cinderella” fall down to the side walk and act like a child while her “Prince
Charming” tried to help her up but seemed a little dazed as well from intoxication. It was
freezing cold outside so we hurried back to my car. After we had finished our frozen yogurt we
tried to come up with a fun activity to do. We decided on rock climbing even though I am
deathly afraid of heights. We found out that they closed early due to the festivities of Halloween
so Dallin suggested we go jump off Goleta Pier. He didn't think I would actually say yes, heck I
never thought I’d say yes to jumping off anything over five feet. Maybe it was the sugar from the
yogurt or the fact that I’m crazy for him and like going on adventures with him but I said yes to
both of our amazement. As we drove to the pier I bombarded him with questions of sharks and
death and landing wrong and he reassured me that it was safe and that he had done it many times.
I was so anxious that I felt sick as I drove and anxiety was swelling up inside of me as we neared
the beach. I parked in the almost empty parking lot near the base of the pier far from the light of
the cafe that was open to a few college students snuggling to keep warm and drinking hot
chocolate. I got out and took my shoes and socks off and locked the doors and stashed my car
keys on the tire. I left my clothes on because it was freezing cold outside and I wanted to savor
the last feeling of warmth I felt before plunging into the cold abyss. The pebbles of the parking
lot were hard beneath my soft feet and I cringed as I felt little shards of glass here and there
almost cut me. Dallin had the toughest feet so he didn't notice and he seemed to not notice the
cold either. The pier was long and it seemed like it took forever to get to the end of it. A few
fishermen were out doing some night fishing and they looked at our bare feet as we passed them,
and walked to the end and found a dark corner. I looked down over the thick wooden railing and
saw the dark glistening waters below and saw dark shadows and shapes and pictured sharks
waiting for me. I heard the water softly lap against the pillar of the pier and thought it could have
been a nice romantic setting if we had just planned to walk out there and stare out at the ocean
and not jump in. I was so scared out of my mind that I started shaking and breathing rapidly.
Dallin told me I didn't have to do this but I felt that I needed to prove to myself that I can do
crazy things. I wanted to experience doing something out of my comfort zone. The next ten
minutes were spent with me hyperventilating and then calming down and Dallin picking me up
and setting me on the railing to position me and then taking me back into his arms as I freaked
out and realized how high up we really were. Finally I was able to climb over and step onto part
of the foundation of the pier underneath and waited for him to climb over and join me. We stood
there holding hands and staring at the water. I looked at him and wished I could be as fearless as
him. He looked at me and said that he has done this jump five different times and each time he is
just as scared as his first time. I felt comfort in knowing I wasn’t alone in my feelings and waited
for his count to three. I closed my eyes and let him pull me with him. I had enough time through
the fall to scream and then not scream and then scream again right before I hit the water. My
body sank so low into the water that it took longer than I had anticipated to reach the surface. I
knew the water was freezing but so much adrenaline was coursing through me that it felt warm. I
saw Dallin make his way to the ladder underneath the pier and I followed, feeling giddy and
nervous of the creatures that could have lurked beneath me. We climbed up to the maintenance
level walk way underneath the pier and sat there. I started shaking with cold and the realization
at what I had just accomplished and Dallin hugged me and said he was so proud of me for doing
something that I was scared to do. We gingerly made our way up the steps to the top of the pier
and past the fishermen staring at our wet clothes. As soon as we got back to the car, we stripped
down to our underwear and cranked up the heater. I was still shaking but I was smiling.
Him--Rachel
Him… It always seemed to be him. Everyone liked him; he was smart, funny, and everything
that you could want someone to be. We were friends, only friends, or at least that's what it
seemed like. But he started to act different, he didn't act like a friend it was something more. It
was in the little things that he did that made me notice it. It was the little things that made me
notice that he slowly became more affectionate with the little things that he did. Instead of just
saying hi, he would grab at my hips when I had my back turned. He would say cute little things
about me when we were talking to other people. He would always ask for a hug when he wasn't
in the best mood and as I would start to pull away he would pull me back in. I started to see him
around more. He was slowly making his presence known. It was all very subtle, but the people
around us had even started to notice. No one ever said anything about it they had just let it be.
As time went on people started ask questions, “are you guys together?” or they would say that
we “looked so cute together” but the answers were always, “no we are just friends” and
“thanks.” But we were still just friends, never anything more or less. It seemed like we would
only ever be friends. I was the one that always put in the effort just to see if it would go
anywhere. But no, nothing changed besides the fact that I had started to like him as more than
just a friend. A little while down the road when I started to let it go, was when he had started to
show that it could be something more. Timing was never right with us. It was the whole “I'm not
ready for something like this” or “I'm to busy to have a relationship.” But if we had really wanted
it we would have made it work. After all it's not like I was asking for much, I had just wanted to
be with him. Then one day he was just gone, literally gone. So like all things I learned to get
over it. At first it was hard to let it go because I would remember the little things he did. All the
times that he had called me his angel and other cute names. Even the way that he would look at
me when he would pass by and the way that his arms tightened when he pulled me back into
his embrace because he wasn't ready to let go. But at some point I forgot about the way that he
would grab at my hips when he walked by and the way he would say my name and the way he
felt when I was wrapped in his arms. At some point I learned to just forget about him completely;
I can't remember exactly when that was but I was at peace with it. Everything was back to
normal for a while. Then one day, he came back... I don't know why he did, but he did anyways.
I didn't want him to come back into my life. I had been so content with the way things were going
without him. But it was out of my control, he was back and there was nothing that I could do
about it. I started to fall all over again. I tried to stop myself so many times, but nothing ever
worked. I asked friends about it and they said to just let it be and see where this all goes. So I
did. It was that simple. I started to see him around more and more, but something felt different.
He wasn't the same guy that I knew from before. He would act different in front of the people
that we were around. He just wasn't the same, I didn't know exactly what it was but I didn't like
it. Everything was different this time around. So now instead of him leaving, I was the one that
decided to leave. But at last I realized that it wasn't always him. Maybe it wasn't supposed to be
him, maybe the timing was just never right, or maybe I liked the thought of him more than us
actually being a thing.
I never said his name, but we all know who our “Him” is.
The Night Light--Harley
One night as I was sleeping, I woke up to a loud bang coming from my window. I ran to
the window to see a big ball of light come shooting down from the sky. Then another bang
happened when it reached the ground. I grabbed my baseball bat and flashlight and ran out of
the house to see what just came down. As soon as I approached to what I thought was going to
be a meteor, a person started running towards me; I yelled “Who’s there?!” Then as it got closer
I realized it started to make a screeching noise. I flashed my light at to what I thought was a
person, and realized it was nothing like a person. The first thing I noticed was its large rounded
bubble eyes. Then I noticed it had a glowing light green skin with lengthy arms and legs. When
it got closer I realized it had its mouth open showing its sharp jagged teeth. That's when I knew
to run back to the house before it grabs me. No matter how fast I was running I knew it was
coming closer. I looked back for the last time, that’s when I saw there was not just one. I
reached for the door…...
the window to see a big ball of light come shooting down from the sky. Then another bang
happened when it reached the ground. I grabbed my baseball bat and flashlight and ran out of
the house to see what just came down. As soon as I approached to what I thought was going to
be a meteor, a person started running towards me; I yelled “Who’s there?!” Then as it got closer
I realized it started to make a screeching noise. I flashed my light at to what I thought was a
person, and realized it was nothing like a person. The first thing I noticed was its large rounded
bubble eyes. Then I noticed it had a glowing light green skin with lengthy arms and legs. When
it got closer I realized it had its mouth open showing its sharp jagged teeth. That's when I knew
to run back to the house before it grabs me. No matter how fast I was running I knew it was
coming closer. I looked back for the last time, that’s when I saw there was not just one. I
reached for the door…...
Scorched--Kiara
He never knew heat before he met her. He thought he became acquainted with heat the minute he
moved his life to the desert, but he was so utterly wrong. The moment he met her, his entire world
sizzled. He was scorched by the warmth of her light. Even more so seared by her smile., and he can
remember being drawn to her heat. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually welcomed
third degree burns, but when she first spoke to him, he liked that her fire could disintegrate both his
thoughts and his ability to speak.
Her fire burns the brightest when she’s happy, but burns even brighter when she’s not. It extends
from her like a blazing whip, lashing at everyone with all the heat she can provide. But she doesn’t
mean to burn anyone when she’s angry. He knows she doesn’t.
People ask him why he stays. Everyone knows that her fire isn’t just simple warmth anymore, and he’s
not quite sure if he alone can put it out. But he can’t tell them that the same source of heat that
singes him also slathers his wounds in salves. Can’t explain to his friends that her trail of fire has
somehow wrapped itself around him like a snake. He can’t even begin to express why the fear of Hell
has long since left his body, but he knows that it won’t be coming back.
He knows now that he can’t be her firefighter forever.
He hopes that one day she can learn to be her own.
moved his life to the desert, but he was so utterly wrong. The moment he met her, his entire world
sizzled. He was scorched by the warmth of her light. Even more so seared by her smile., and he can
remember being drawn to her heat. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually welcomed
third degree burns, but when she first spoke to him, he liked that her fire could disintegrate both his
thoughts and his ability to speak.
Her fire burns the brightest when she’s happy, but burns even brighter when she’s not. It extends
from her like a blazing whip, lashing at everyone with all the heat she can provide. But she doesn’t
mean to burn anyone when she’s angry. He knows she doesn’t.
People ask him why he stays. Everyone knows that her fire isn’t just simple warmth anymore, and he’s
not quite sure if he alone can put it out. But he can’t tell them that the same source of heat that
singes him also slathers his wounds in salves. Can’t explain to his friends that her trail of fire has
somehow wrapped itself around him like a snake. He can’t even begin to express why the fear of Hell
has long since left his body, but he knows that it won’t be coming back.
He knows now that he can’t be her firefighter forever.
He hopes that one day she can learn to be her own.
Don’t Give Up On Me ~ Bryanna
I was surrounded by unrecognizable voices. The faint sound of a woman's voice pierced my ears
screaming for someone to quickly tighten my restraints. Where was I? The feeling of the cool
room and the pinch of the needle in my arm alarmed me,“Where’s Jase?” I shouted. After what
seemed like hours, one of the nurses finally explained that I was in the hospital and I had been in
a coma for two months. I then tried to unravel the events that occurred. Jase and I on the sofa. I
finished eating cauliflower hot wings, and then I went to our room. We exchanged ‘I love you’s’
and I kissed Jase goodnight as I had done every night for the past three years since we moved in
together, nothing abnormal. Frantically, I tried to remove the restraints but the nurse warned me
that I was considered a danger to myself and if I continued to resist, I would be isolated in a large
white room. Truthfully, this sounded blissful. Just as I began to resist, she handed me a rose with
a soft smile, allowing a letter written on a measly half-used napkin with a microscopic heart on
the right corner, to fall into my lap. It was from Jase. It read:
“My darling Avery,
You tried a few weeks ago to end your life and I can't help but think it was my fault. You
screamed, telling me that I was the worse thing that happened to you. I have loved you for so
long but everytime I come closer to you, it seems like you push me away. I tried so hard to get
you to love me the way I love you and I’m so sorry, but I’m done. I’ve waited by your bed for
weeks but I met someone amazing in the cafeteria and I just can't continue waiting for you to
decide whether you want to get over feeling sorry for yourself or actually live a life. I can't fight
for someone who repeatedly refuses to fight for themselves. I hope you can forgive me.”
Love,
Jase
I gripped the rose in my hand allowing the thorn Jase forgot to pluck to become wedged in the
center of my palm and felt my warm blood drip down my arm. A second later, I heard the
machines beep rapidly and my eyes began to tremble and roll back. I struggled to catch my
breathe and was shaking uncontrollably. The nurses shouted “Code Blue! Room 108!” They
turned me on my side and back down and repeatedly yelled “Clear!” I felt every shock go
through my body but I knew it was over because they told me to not give up on myself, but I
already had. The machines stopped beeping and the room finally went black and silent. I wasn't
scared and most importantly, I didn't care. All I could think about was how Jase gave up on me.
Honestly,how could I blame him?
"...this was Icarus drowning"--Andy
July, 2016.
Santa Ana metrolink station. Sun’s bright.
I’m out on the bench, in the sweltering sun, waiting for the bus to UC Irvine,
thumbing my worn copy of Montaigne’s Essays.
“An old Greek proverb says that men are afflicted by their ideas of things, not by the
things themselves…”
Yes, I thought - perception matters.
I look up. An old lady, nicely dressed, hobbles around the bus station. She’s carrying
not only her handbag, but also a bag of cherries - ripe black cherries.
She goes around the station, to strangers bent-double over their phones, and asks
“would you like so me cherries?” She receives death-glares in return.
“Another person down on her luck, probably due to poor life choices, and who
probably just wants some attention” I thought, and looked back down.
“... for if the ills of life enter into us only through our judgement, it would seem to be
in our power to despise them, or to turn them to good...”
Yes, I thought - we’re all ultimately responsible for our own happiness.
I look back up.
To my great horror, the crazy little old lady walks towards me. She sits down on the
empty side of the bench.
“It’s a fine day today - care for some cherries? They’re so sweet!”
No thanks, I say. Never acce pt food from strangers. I make a valiant, but pathetic
attempt to scoot away.
But she continues. “I’m on the way to the DMV to renew my driving licence - the
court told me to, because this damn bipolar disorder! For years they didn’t let me
drive.”
Silence.
The whirring sound of my inner cranial gears. “Oh, okay.”
“Where are you going?”
I hesitate, but spoke honestly. “I’m going to UC Irvine, to visit a Cell Biology lab. I
love biology.”
“You must be a bright young man…. You know, I had children like you. A girl, and a
boy who's your age. He’s valedictorian at his high school, but -”
I see her eyes well with tears.
“- but - he refuses to call me ‘Mom!’ He thinks that I’m just a freakin’ wreck of a
person!”
She starts sniffling, starts choking on her tears, but doesn’t stop.
“I’m still going to court against my boyfriend - about how he used to be mean to me
and sometimes would hit me, and then he left me! And he always did drugs! I told
him to stop but he couldn’t! I knew how dangerous they were because I grew up
using them, but he just wouldn’t stop!”
She grasps my hands tightly. I could feel her hands shaking violently, but then I
looked at mine, feeling her pain, and thought how I wouldn’t have the fortitude to
endure such things, either.
I thought of what I’ve read about the Buddha - a pampered prince, in a stately
pleasure-dome decree, banished from suffering, aside from the occasional scratch or
bruise.
Gets bored - sneaks out the palace, into the busy marketplace: all’s fun and games.
But then, lo and behold, an old man, wheezing, wrinkly, ugly, barely able to walk
upright.
A sick person, afflicted with God knows what - Plague? Cholera? Typhoid-fever? -
lying on the floor, wasting his life away.
(My foster dad tells me of his experience volunteering at a busy city hospital,
changing soiled diapers for distinguished professors and jazz artists and
businessmen who are reduced to a pile of intracerebral hemorrhage and cancer and
fecal incontinence - of what use is intelligence, talent, here?)
Then, the stench of rotting corpses - the hollow-faced mortal coils of men who lived
and loved and enjoyed pleasures and suffered pains. Sic transit gloria mundi:
memento mori.
Perhaps, I, too, growing up in a fairly well-to-do Taiwanese family with protective
parents and going to a nice high school and having lots of friends - should take a
sobering stroll out of my palace, too.
“I used to say there was no God, but now I do. He protects me! I know he’s on my
side when I argue in court! It’s like - it’s like - the armor of God! He’s always on my
side - I feel it!”
The bus arrives. I help her on the bus.
“You’re a nice young man!” she says. I blush.
On the bus, we talk about better days.
“Where are you from?” she asks.
“Near San Bernadino,” I reply.
“Oh, San Bernardino! Isn’t that near Big Bear? My father would always take us up
there to boat, or go snowboarding there!”
We talk about life, we talk about faith, we talk about friends. She spills the contents
of her bag over the seat trying to dig out a faded picture of her and a few friends from
the 80’s.
“How good is it to be friends, to have friends, to love your neighbor as yourself,” she
sighs.
Soon, her stop arrives. I help her gather up her spilt belongings - licenses, papers, lip
balm. “Thank you, young man.”
“God bless you,” I suddenly said - not out of devotion, but out of compassion. I’m not
religious, but I knew that God must have meant a lot to her, keeping her going
through those dark days.
“God bless you too.”
As she steps off, as the bus doors close, as the scenes of Irvine speed past me, I think
about the way of equanimity and the way of compassion, how we need to strike a
balance between knowing that we’re all responsible for our own happiness, and
recognizing the immense suffering that many experience on a daily basis.
I think of nibbida - disenchantment - we may live to pursue happiness, but which
will-o'-the-wisp shall we chase after?
Now, as youth, we may pride ourselves in our physical prowess, vitality, health, think
ourselves invincible gods - but what do we do when these glories fade and we bleed
our lives away into tubes, when family and friends and loves go, and die, or worse,
betray and weigh you down?
When materialism and being #1 and douce memories can’t save you, and you’re
confronted with your mortality, and infinite capacity to suffer - when not even faith,
belief, ideology, when they verge on self-deception, may ease your pains, what can?
What is beautiful, I do not know, and there’s so much to let go, to see through and
become disillusioned with, in our happiness-seeking endeavours, as we look past
superficial, fleeting - imperfect enjoyments, and reach on for more fulfilling,
substantive ones.
Am I ready for this? I don’t know.
And then, I felt a tear rolling down my face.
Santa Ana metrolink station. Sun’s bright.
I’m out on the bench, in the sweltering sun, waiting for the bus to UC Irvine,
thumbing my worn copy of Montaigne’s Essays.
“An old Greek proverb says that men are afflicted by their ideas of things, not by the
things themselves…”
Yes, I thought - perception matters.
I look up. An old lady, nicely dressed, hobbles around the bus station. She’s carrying
not only her handbag, but also a bag of cherries - ripe black cherries.
She goes around the station, to strangers bent-double over their phones, and asks
“would you like so me cherries?” She receives death-glares in return.
“Another person down on her luck, probably due to poor life choices, and who
probably just wants some attention” I thought, and looked back down.
“... for if the ills of life enter into us only through our judgement, it would seem to be
in our power to despise them, or to turn them to good...”
Yes, I thought - we’re all ultimately responsible for our own happiness.
I look back up.
To my great horror, the crazy little old lady walks towards me. She sits down on the
empty side of the bench.
“It’s a fine day today - care for some cherries? They’re so sweet!”
No thanks, I say. Never acce pt food from strangers. I make a valiant, but pathetic
attempt to scoot away.
But she continues. “I’m on the way to the DMV to renew my driving licence - the
court told me to, because this damn bipolar disorder! For years they didn’t let me
drive.”
Silence.
The whirring sound of my inner cranial gears. “Oh, okay.”
“Where are you going?”
I hesitate, but spoke honestly. “I’m going to UC Irvine, to visit a Cell Biology lab. I
love biology.”
“You must be a bright young man…. You know, I had children like you. A girl, and a
boy who's your age. He’s valedictorian at his high school, but -”
I see her eyes well with tears.
“- but - he refuses to call me ‘Mom!’ He thinks that I’m just a freakin’ wreck of a
person!”
She starts sniffling, starts choking on her tears, but doesn’t stop.
“I’m still going to court against my boyfriend - about how he used to be mean to me
and sometimes would hit me, and then he left me! And he always did drugs! I told
him to stop but he couldn’t! I knew how dangerous they were because I grew up
using them, but he just wouldn’t stop!”
She grasps my hands tightly. I could feel her hands shaking violently, but then I
looked at mine, feeling her pain, and thought how I wouldn’t have the fortitude to
endure such things, either.
I thought of what I’ve read about the Buddha - a pampered prince, in a stately
pleasure-dome decree, banished from suffering, aside from the occasional scratch or
bruise.
Gets bored - sneaks out the palace, into the busy marketplace: all’s fun and games.
But then, lo and behold, an old man, wheezing, wrinkly, ugly, barely able to walk
upright.
A sick person, afflicted with God knows what - Plague? Cholera? Typhoid-fever? -
lying on the floor, wasting his life away.
(My foster dad tells me of his experience volunteering at a busy city hospital,
changing soiled diapers for distinguished professors and jazz artists and
businessmen who are reduced to a pile of intracerebral hemorrhage and cancer and
fecal incontinence - of what use is intelligence, talent, here?)
Then, the stench of rotting corpses - the hollow-faced mortal coils of men who lived
and loved and enjoyed pleasures and suffered pains. Sic transit gloria mundi:
memento mori.
Perhaps, I, too, growing up in a fairly well-to-do Taiwanese family with protective
parents and going to a nice high school and having lots of friends - should take a
sobering stroll out of my palace, too.
“I used to say there was no God, but now I do. He protects me! I know he’s on my
side when I argue in court! It’s like - it’s like - the armor of God! He’s always on my
side - I feel it!”
The bus arrives. I help her on the bus.
“You’re a nice young man!” she says. I blush.
On the bus, we talk about better days.
“Where are you from?” she asks.
“Near San Bernadino,” I reply.
“Oh, San Bernardino! Isn’t that near Big Bear? My father would always take us up
there to boat, or go snowboarding there!”
We talk about life, we talk about faith, we talk about friends. She spills the contents
of her bag over the seat trying to dig out a faded picture of her and a few friends from
the 80’s.
“How good is it to be friends, to have friends, to love your neighbor as yourself,” she
sighs.
Soon, her stop arrives. I help her gather up her spilt belongings - licenses, papers, lip
balm. “Thank you, young man.”
“God bless you,” I suddenly said - not out of devotion, but out of compassion. I’m not
religious, but I knew that God must have meant a lot to her, keeping her going
through those dark days.
“God bless you too.”
As she steps off, as the bus doors close, as the scenes of Irvine speed past me, I think
about the way of equanimity and the way of compassion, how we need to strike a
balance between knowing that we’re all responsible for our own happiness, and
recognizing the immense suffering that many experience on a daily basis.
I think of nibbida - disenchantment - we may live to pursue happiness, but which
will-o'-the-wisp shall we chase after?
Now, as youth, we may pride ourselves in our physical prowess, vitality, health, think
ourselves invincible gods - but what do we do when these glories fade and we bleed
our lives away into tubes, when family and friends and loves go, and die, or worse,
betray and weigh you down?
When materialism and being #1 and douce memories can’t save you, and you’re
confronted with your mortality, and infinite capacity to suffer - when not even faith,
belief, ideology, when they verge on self-deception, may ease your pains, what can?
What is beautiful, I do not know, and there’s so much to let go, to see through and
become disillusioned with, in our happiness-seeking endeavours, as we look past
superficial, fleeting - imperfect enjoyments, and reach on for more fulfilling,
substantive ones.
Am I ready for this? I don’t know.
And then, I felt a tear rolling down my face.
The Newest Hero--Austin
The next morning on his way to school, James backpack begins to
rattle and glow and remembers the belt from the night before and believes it
wants him to follow it. He decides to follow where the device wants him to go,
the device leads him to a small riverbed. The device then left James hands as
it flew to the middle of the riverbed and as if out of nowhere four, what
looked to be switches, flew to the device, and each switch had a different
design and number corresponding to each of the four shapes in the belt. The
four different designs shown were a rocket, launcher, drill, and radar each
numbered respectively. These four switches went into each of the slots as if
they were always meant to be there. The belt then flew back to James as if it
had chosen James as its true owner, he then puts it back into his backpack then
rushes the rest of the way to school.
Once James arrives to school he sees that there is a giant
commotion going on in the middle of the campus. He begins to investigate,
discovering that there is a monster that is terrorizing people on the campus.
James then felt his backpack begin to rumble again and figures this is what
this belt is for. James goes to a corner hidden away from peers and takes the
belt out of his backpack and it puts itself around his waist. He switches on
the switches and a count down begins. once the countdown reached 1 he pulled
the lever on the left side and he transforms into a suit that gave him immense
power. Little did James know that this power would lead him to become the new
hero for the school and would become known as the masked ranger of monsters.
Overthinking Brain VS The Naive Heart--Ishrat
“Shh..” said the voices, “If they hear you, they’ll run and again you’ll find yourself alone
beneath the morning’s sun.” Out of fear, her bleeding heart grew quiet. But, in doing so, the
voices in her head got louder. “Do it! If you don’t, you won’t be cool and again they’ll laugh at the
lonely fool.” Allowing another voice to play on her excruciating guilt. “Why’d you do it? Don’t you
care about those you’ll affect? They’ll find out, and when they do, they won't stick around.”
She’d already silenced her tongue but people kept on asking. So, the voices panicked, “Lie!
they will hate you for the truth. So why even try? When a lie can make your life as sweet as the
fruit.” Overwhelmed by the screeching in her head, she lied. With another voice in the pile, and
another, then another, she was left insane; crazed with all the voices in her brain.
Lost and unaware of what to do next, she looked upon her reflection in the mirror. A
beauty in velvet red stared back at her, contradicting the plain black she wore. The reflection
seemed familiar, but... hopeful? It was her heart.
“ Why do you keep listening to them?” Her reflection asked.
“To who?” She wondered.
“To the voices in your head? They’re so negative!” she sassed. “ Why not quiet the
voices in your head and listen to what your heart once said?” Ironically, she thought long and
hard about what the reflection asked, blanking for an answer. Refusing to let her overthinking
brain get the best of her, she decided to listen to her reflection.
“Go talk to him, what's the worst that can happen?” Then just like that, she talked to him.
And in doing so the person she loved so much said yes. A few you days in, her reflection
continued, “Kiss him show him you love him.” So she did and was finally overjoyed by the
butterflies in her stomach. She couldn’t even imagine being unhappy ever again because now
she had him.
But one day, things got a bit intense. Her reflection remained hopeful and said, “Just
don't think about how he cheated.” So she continued being fake because she didn't want to
flake on a love that she believed was so strong. She stared at her desperate reflection in defeat,
“ Do it! Maybe it'll make him stay and love you more.” Knowing she loved him enough, she did it.
But something her reflection never expected, happened- He left. He took half her heart and
walked away. Now her broken reflection stared back at her, crazed and in a daze as tears
streaked down her face and onto the messy floor.
Confused about the whole situation, she cried in response to her reflection, “Why don't I
listen to my heart? You. Don’t. Follow. Logic!”
Thus, the endless cycle continued as the quiet voices in her head silently awoke and
whispered, “You should have listened to us from the start.”
...
beneath the morning’s sun.” Out of fear, her bleeding heart grew quiet. But, in doing so, the
voices in her head got louder. “Do it! If you don’t, you won’t be cool and again they’ll laugh at the
lonely fool.” Allowing another voice to play on her excruciating guilt. “Why’d you do it? Don’t you
care about those you’ll affect? They’ll find out, and when they do, they won't stick around.”
She’d already silenced her tongue but people kept on asking. So, the voices panicked, “Lie!
they will hate you for the truth. So why even try? When a lie can make your life as sweet as the
fruit.” Overwhelmed by the screeching in her head, she lied. With another voice in the pile, and
another, then another, she was left insane; crazed with all the voices in her brain.
Lost and unaware of what to do next, she looked upon her reflection in the mirror. A
beauty in velvet red stared back at her, contradicting the plain black she wore. The reflection
seemed familiar, but... hopeful? It was her heart.
“ Why do you keep listening to them?” Her reflection asked.
“To who?” She wondered.
“To the voices in your head? They’re so negative!” she sassed. “ Why not quiet the
voices in your head and listen to what your heart once said?” Ironically, she thought long and
hard about what the reflection asked, blanking for an answer. Refusing to let her overthinking
brain get the best of her, she decided to listen to her reflection.
“Go talk to him, what's the worst that can happen?” Then just like that, she talked to him.
And in doing so the person she loved so much said yes. A few you days in, her reflection
continued, “Kiss him show him you love him.” So she did and was finally overjoyed by the
butterflies in her stomach. She couldn’t even imagine being unhappy ever again because now
she had him.
But one day, things got a bit intense. Her reflection remained hopeful and said, “Just
don't think about how he cheated.” So she continued being fake because she didn't want to
flake on a love that she believed was so strong. She stared at her desperate reflection in defeat,
“ Do it! Maybe it'll make him stay and love you more.” Knowing she loved him enough, she did it.
But something her reflection never expected, happened- He left. He took half her heart and
walked away. Now her broken reflection stared back at her, crazed and in a daze as tears
streaked down her face and onto the messy floor.
Confused about the whole situation, she cried in response to her reflection, “Why don't I
listen to my heart? You. Don’t. Follow. Logic!”
Thus, the endless cycle continued as the quiet voices in her head silently awoke and
whispered, “You should have listened to us from the start.”
...
The Mysterious Framing of Holly’s death--Aysha
The leaves were rustling more rough than they normally did. It felt like time was ticking way
faster than it usually does. I strolled into the graveyard briskly with my huge bag strapped
hurriedly over my shoulder. Once I finally got to the spot, I just started digging and digging a
hole to find the body. I needed something to prove that Holly was not in the casket but missing.
Sweaty and feeling rushed, I hastily dug in the rainy weather with my shovel. I knew Holly was
missing and that someone purposely framed the death. It just DID NOT make sense! How can
everyone say she’s gone so easily? I was just out camping with her the other day. While my
mind was preoccupied, I had stopped myself from digging any further. It was a matter of time
when lights began flashing around, blinding my eyes as I heard distant siren noises. My mind
started feeling hazy and my ears began to ring as my sense of sound vanished. I started
screaming louder and the ringing in my head started feeling more apparent as the world started
closing down on me. I abruptly wake up in a bland white room to a lady in white shaking me
awake. This nightmare has become a routine lately for the past three months since I’ve been
here. The lady watches me cautiously and whispers, “Hi Honey, do you want to go out into the
hall for some fresh air?” I simply shrug and climb out of the bed anyways. The lady named
Martha, judging by her name tag, smiles and helps me out of bed. I look out the window of the
room and see cars driving by in a distant knowing well enough that I won't be leaving this place
anytime soon. Though one thing I do love about this place is the uniform. I can freely move
around in this white gown. We walk out of my room and I can see from all the darkness
engulfing the halls that everyone is sound asleep. We go through the corridor glancing at all the
rooms we pass by. I mostly hear snores seeping from the rooms but occasionally I would hear a
few faint screams from other patients accompanied by a nurse at this ward. While walking from
the corner of my eyes, I saw a glimmer that caught my eyes. A girl in a red dress.
The same dress the girl wore at my graduation party.
The same girl that I used to have sleepovers with.
Yes and the same girl I went camping with.
Holly.
It was like time froze while my mind became bombarded with memories when I was struck with
reality. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. It’s like my entire world just collapsed and it was a matter of
time before I collapse with it. I can’t take it anymore. I have to say it. It’s killing me. Literally. It
seemed like time was ticking painfully slow. I started thrashing in Martha’s grasp and started
shrieking. “I DID IT! YES IT WAS ME! I KILLED MY BEST FRIEND AND FRAMED HER
BOYFRIEND! I couldn't handle how he was tearing her apart. There I said it. Can you finally
leave me alone?!” I just couldn't help it. Killing her in an isolated place such as in a forest was
such a perfect place to not get traced by the people. It felt right at that time. My tears threatened
to spill heavily from my eyes. Eventually, I started to sob, regretting ever taking part in such
mindless action. And just like that Holly disappeared into thin air but throwing a little smirk on
the way. My mind cooled for a quick second with ease when suddenly my mind started blurring
and my body started weakening. I start to hear muttering of a lady yelling “CODE ONE PLEASE
ANY-” I felt my body go numb. It all vanished and I was left alone in a fog daze letting the
quietness roam my ears. I was alone again but it felt odd. I started walking searching for
something. My eyes traveled aimlessly looking for anything. Anything to sooth my
nerve-wracking mind. Eventually I see a delicate figure in a distant and walk towards it
attentively trying to put together who it was. Once I finally figured out whom it was, my body
immediately halted. The figure turns around once hearing the footsteps approaching and starts
to wickedly laugh when she saw me.
“You didn't think I was going to leave without taking you with me right, best friend? After all best
friends that stick together die together”
faster than it usually does. I strolled into the graveyard briskly with my huge bag strapped
hurriedly over my shoulder. Once I finally got to the spot, I just started digging and digging a
hole to find the body. I needed something to prove that Holly was not in the casket but missing.
Sweaty and feeling rushed, I hastily dug in the rainy weather with my shovel. I knew Holly was
missing and that someone purposely framed the death. It just DID NOT make sense! How can
everyone say she’s gone so easily? I was just out camping with her the other day. While my
mind was preoccupied, I had stopped myself from digging any further. It was a matter of time
when lights began flashing around, blinding my eyes as I heard distant siren noises. My mind
started feeling hazy and my ears began to ring as my sense of sound vanished. I started
screaming louder and the ringing in my head started feeling more apparent as the world started
closing down on me. I abruptly wake up in a bland white room to a lady in white shaking me
awake. This nightmare has become a routine lately for the past three months since I’ve been
here. The lady watches me cautiously and whispers, “Hi Honey, do you want to go out into the
hall for some fresh air?” I simply shrug and climb out of the bed anyways. The lady named
Martha, judging by her name tag, smiles and helps me out of bed. I look out the window of the
room and see cars driving by in a distant knowing well enough that I won't be leaving this place
anytime soon. Though one thing I do love about this place is the uniform. I can freely move
around in this white gown. We walk out of my room and I can see from all the darkness
engulfing the halls that everyone is sound asleep. We go through the corridor glancing at all the
rooms we pass by. I mostly hear snores seeping from the rooms but occasionally I would hear a
few faint screams from other patients accompanied by a nurse at this ward. While walking from
the corner of my eyes, I saw a glimmer that caught my eyes. A girl in a red dress.
The same dress the girl wore at my graduation party.
The same girl that I used to have sleepovers with.
Yes and the same girl I went camping with.
Holly.
It was like time froze while my mind became bombarded with memories when I was struck with
reality. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. It’s like my entire world just collapsed and it was a matter of
time before I collapse with it. I can’t take it anymore. I have to say it. It’s killing me. Literally. It
seemed like time was ticking painfully slow. I started thrashing in Martha’s grasp and started
shrieking. “I DID IT! YES IT WAS ME! I KILLED MY BEST FRIEND AND FRAMED HER
BOYFRIEND! I couldn't handle how he was tearing her apart. There I said it. Can you finally
leave me alone?!” I just couldn't help it. Killing her in an isolated place such as in a forest was
such a perfect place to not get traced by the people. It felt right at that time. My tears threatened
to spill heavily from my eyes. Eventually, I started to sob, regretting ever taking part in such
mindless action. And just like that Holly disappeared into thin air but throwing a little smirk on
the way. My mind cooled for a quick second with ease when suddenly my mind started blurring
and my body started weakening. I start to hear muttering of a lady yelling “CODE ONE PLEASE
ANY-” I felt my body go numb. It all vanished and I was left alone in a fog daze letting the
quietness roam my ears. I was alone again but it felt odd. I started walking searching for
something. My eyes traveled aimlessly looking for anything. Anything to sooth my
nerve-wracking mind. Eventually I see a delicate figure in a distant and walk towards it
attentively trying to put together who it was. Once I finally figured out whom it was, my body
immediately halted. The figure turns around once hearing the footsteps approaching and starts
to wickedly laugh when she saw me.
“You didn't think I was going to leave without taking you with me right, best friend? After all best
friends that stick together die together”
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
Happy New Year 2017!!!!
Welcome Back!!!
I hope you enjoyed your Winter Break and got much needed relaxation time and sleep. As you are finishing up reading Jane Eyre :) our December writers have been posted. Yes, I know. Finally!
Here is the assignment: Read the eleven pieces. There are quite a few "How to" tutorials this month. Notice the pictures. I taught myself how to insert a picture. Don't laugh. We learn something new everyday. Today, happened to be "Must Learn How To Insert Pictures on Blog." Anyway, leave comments for five submissions. Remember, to say why you are leaving the comment. Don't just say, "Great job! I loved it!" Explain why. The writers enjoy reading your comments. All five comments are due Monday, January 16
Writers,
Keep an eye on your comment page. Respond to at least three comments and leave comments for two other peer writers. Your comments are due Wednesday, January 18.
Have a great week!
Happy Reading!!!
Mrs. Solano
I hope you enjoyed your Winter Break and got much needed relaxation time and sleep. As you are finishing up reading Jane Eyre :) our December writers have been posted. Yes, I know. Finally!
Here is the assignment: Read the eleven pieces. There are quite a few "How to" tutorials this month. Notice the pictures. I taught myself how to insert a picture. Don't laugh. We learn something new everyday. Today, happened to be "Must Learn How To Insert Pictures on Blog." Anyway, leave comments for five submissions. Remember, to say why you are leaving the comment. Don't just say, "Great job! I loved it!" Explain why. The writers enjoy reading your comments. All five comments are due Monday, January 16
Writers,
Keep an eye on your comment page. Respond to at least three comments and leave comments for two other peer writers. Your comments are due Wednesday, January 18.
Have a great week!
Happy Reading!!!
Mrs. Solano
The Sandwich that Could--Narelle
Each day in the back of this shelf felt the same. Every morning I woke up and saw the
same things , the back of the cinnamon toast crunch , the coffee colored pantry walls ,
nothing exciting ever went on ,every single day, the same boring routine. Every once
and awhile someone would come and grab one of my friends to take them to the outside
room everyone fantasized and spoke about. Today didn't feel boring, nor did it feel
routine in the slightest. My friend and I were the last two slices in the package , today
had to be the day we were chosen. I knew the feeling I had was correct when someone
came and took us out of our package and into the light. I remembered being so happy ,
so relieved to be out , to feel as though i could finally breathe , to feel like i had a real
shot at being happy. I was set down on a plate near my best pals , bread slice Ben,
cheesy Chad and butter Brandon. I hadn't seen them in so long and I was so happy to
finally see them but for some reason , something felt , off. They were all crying and their
eyes hung so low , they tried to smile at me , almost as if they were trying to reassure
me, but reassure me of what? I was confused , I didn't know why they were so upset. I
began to scope the whole kitchen looking for clues , something to give me a hint as to
why they were like this. Bread slice Ben waved goodbye as he was picked up , I asked
him why he was saying goodbye , that him and I had just arrived to this paradise. Just
as I was sitting back down in confusion , old mister pepper came out from the shadows
and said “you really have no idea , do you?”. Just as he was about to explain I was
picked up and right in that moment I knew this wasn't paradise , I knew this was not the
place everyone back home fantasized and dreamed about. I was laid down and speared
with butter Brandon , all i could hear was his cries of pain and his constant shouts for
help. I looked over at bread slice Ben and could not help but cry , my friend was no
longer alive , there he lie face down inside of a hot pan. Cheesy Chad was ripped apart
and put inside of the pan , on top of Bread slice Ben. I stared blankly as these terrible
things happened to my friends right before my eyes, wishing there was something i could
do. It was pointless , I had to accept this horrid fate. I was picked up and raised over
the pan , I closed my eyes , braised myself for the upcoming pain and shouted , “Grilled
Cheese!!”.
same things , the back of the cinnamon toast crunch , the coffee colored pantry walls ,
nothing exciting ever went on ,every single day, the same boring routine. Every once
and awhile someone would come and grab one of my friends to take them to the outside
room everyone fantasized and spoke about. Today didn't feel boring, nor did it feel
routine in the slightest. My friend and I were the last two slices in the package , today
had to be the day we were chosen. I knew the feeling I had was correct when someone
came and took us out of our package and into the light. I remembered being so happy ,
so relieved to be out , to feel as though i could finally breathe , to feel like i had a real
shot at being happy. I was set down on a plate near my best pals , bread slice Ben,
cheesy Chad and butter Brandon. I hadn't seen them in so long and I was so happy to
finally see them but for some reason , something felt , off. They were all crying and their
eyes hung so low , they tried to smile at me , almost as if they were trying to reassure
me, but reassure me of what? I was confused , I didn't know why they were so upset. I
began to scope the whole kitchen looking for clues , something to give me a hint as to
why they were like this. Bread slice Ben waved goodbye as he was picked up , I asked
him why he was saying goodbye , that him and I had just arrived to this paradise. Just
as I was sitting back down in confusion , old mister pepper came out from the shadows
and said “you really have no idea , do you?”. Just as he was about to explain I was
picked up and right in that moment I knew this wasn't paradise , I knew this was not the
place everyone back home fantasized and dreamed about. I was laid down and speared
with butter Brandon , all i could hear was his cries of pain and his constant shouts for
help. I looked over at bread slice Ben and could not help but cry , my friend was no
longer alive , there he lie face down inside of a hot pan. Cheesy Chad was ripped apart
and put inside of the pan , on top of Bread slice Ben. I stared blankly as these terrible
things happened to my friends right before my eyes, wishing there was something i could
do. It was pointless , I had to accept this horrid fate. I was picked up and raised over
the pan , I closed my eyes , braised myself for the upcoming pain and shouted , “Grilled
Cheese!!”.
Ender’s Game Book Review--Brant
Ender ’s Game is a novel by Orson Scott Card and published by TOR books. In a
world formerly devastated by the Formic Wars, an invasion by the alien “Formics,”
humanity united to form the International Fleet. Under the rule of the Hegemon, the
combined government of the world, the best and brightest children were often sent off to
military school to be trained to become military geniuses. Ender Wiggin, the main
protagonist, is a genius among geniuses. He is a Third, one of the few third childs in an
overcrowded Earth, and was only born with a waiver from the government. From the
beginning of the novel, you are put into Ender’s mind as he gets his neural moniter
taken off. For several years, the government tested children both at school and at home
by inserting neural monitor onto the back of their necks to monitor their thoughts and
feelings. After the monitor is removed, Ender is immediately, confronted by a gang of
bullies. The gang’s leader, Stilton, confronted Ender about being removed from the
government’s program, and a fight commenced. Ender, out of an act of desperation,
kicked Stilton hard on the breastbone, dropping him. However, Ender didn't stop there,
kicking Stilton repeatedly to set an example to the other gang members about
confronting him. At home, Ender receives an invitation to go to Battle School after his
performance with the bullies. As a result, He is launched up to the Battle School, an
orbiting satellite around Earth. There, Ender must adjust to his new classes and training
in the Battle Room, a zero-G environment to simulate fighting Formics. Ender’s main
challenge comes mainly from the military as they try to test Ender to the limit. As the
military continues to isolate Ender from his friends and stacks the odds against him to
try to prepare him for war, the question becomes, will Ender be pushed too far?
Ender’s Game is a coming of age story for a boy genius who doesn’t feel that he
belongs anywhere. Under the adventurous surface of the story, Card paints a picture
about fear, friendship, control, and solitude. Ender struggles through increasing odds in
his battles to the point of impossibility. Even though Ender can use his strategic mind to
find victory in every challenge, he struggles with the morality of his actions. He
comments that the only way he beats an enemy is to truly understand them enough to
defeat them. At that moment, he loves his enemy, right before he destroys them.
Ender’s greatest challenge is coping with his conflicting emotions that even though he
can beat any enemy thrown at him, he feels like a killer and more in common with his
ruthless brother, Peter. These emotions make Ender a more believable character to the
readers, that even though Ender is a six year old genius, he still struggles with morality
and finding a place to fit in. Card’s style of writing the story from Ender’s mind allows the
reader to personally experience the thoughts and emotions Ender processes as he tries
to strategically win battles against his enemies. Card also plays on the morality of
absolute power and government, as the constant barrage of challenges and unfair tests
to Ender called into question how absolute power can create success, but at the cost of
many unseen consequences. The themes of games, ruthlessness, and humanity in the
novel is shown in Ender’s progress through Battle School, making friends and enemies
all while competing in the Battle Room. Overall, Card creates an intriguing story about
Ender’s struggle through tests and battles against increasing odds by the military and
himself. If you are a fan of science fiction, Ender’s Game will provide an emotional and
intellectual driven story while also leaving topics like politics up for discussion.
world formerly devastated by the Formic Wars, an invasion by the alien “Formics,”
humanity united to form the International Fleet. Under the rule of the Hegemon, the
combined government of the world, the best and brightest children were often sent off to
military school to be trained to become military geniuses. Ender Wiggin, the main
protagonist, is a genius among geniuses. He is a Third, one of the few third childs in an
overcrowded Earth, and was only born with a waiver from the government. From the
beginning of the novel, you are put into Ender’s mind as he gets his neural moniter
taken off. For several years, the government tested children both at school and at home
by inserting neural monitor onto the back of their necks to monitor their thoughts and
feelings. After the monitor is removed, Ender is immediately, confronted by a gang of
bullies. The gang’s leader, Stilton, confronted Ender about being removed from the
government’s program, and a fight commenced. Ender, out of an act of desperation,
kicked Stilton hard on the breastbone, dropping him. However, Ender didn't stop there,
kicking Stilton repeatedly to set an example to the other gang members about
confronting him. At home, Ender receives an invitation to go to Battle School after his
performance with the bullies. As a result, He is launched up to the Battle School, an
orbiting satellite around Earth. There, Ender must adjust to his new classes and training
in the Battle Room, a zero-G environment to simulate fighting Formics. Ender’s main
challenge comes mainly from the military as they try to test Ender to the limit. As the
military continues to isolate Ender from his friends and stacks the odds against him to
try to prepare him for war, the question becomes, will Ender be pushed too far?
Ender’s Game is a coming of age story for a boy genius who doesn’t feel that he
belongs anywhere. Under the adventurous surface of the story, Card paints a picture
about fear, friendship, control, and solitude. Ender struggles through increasing odds in
his battles to the point of impossibility. Even though Ender can use his strategic mind to
find victory in every challenge, he struggles with the morality of his actions. He
comments that the only way he beats an enemy is to truly understand them enough to
defeat them. At that moment, he loves his enemy, right before he destroys them.
Ender’s greatest challenge is coping with his conflicting emotions that even though he
can beat any enemy thrown at him, he feels like a killer and more in common with his
ruthless brother, Peter. These emotions make Ender a more believable character to the
readers, that even though Ender is a six year old genius, he still struggles with morality
and finding a place to fit in. Card’s style of writing the story from Ender’s mind allows the
reader to personally experience the thoughts and emotions Ender processes as he tries
to strategically win battles against his enemies. Card also plays on the morality of
absolute power and government, as the constant barrage of challenges and unfair tests
to Ender called into question how absolute power can create success, but at the cost of
many unseen consequences. The themes of games, ruthlessness, and humanity in the
novel is shown in Ender’s progress through Battle School, making friends and enemies
all while competing in the Battle Room. Overall, Card creates an intriguing story about
Ender’s struggle through tests and battles against increasing odds by the military and
himself. If you are a fan of science fiction, Ender’s Game will provide an emotional and
intellectual driven story while also leaving topics like politics up for discussion.
Limbo--Hannah
It begins with a pounding. I bring my hands to my hair and pull at the roots. It’s happening again.
Why? Why now? Why me? Why not? The radio goes static beside me and my eyes burn, but I
barely notice. I’m too focused on the beating in my skull. Not again. Never again . A lways. I open
my eyes only to feel the stinging in my hands, similar to my eyes, only with the addition of
crimson drops. This is it… the end. I find my way down the stairs. I take a turn to the kitchen
spotting the front door at the end of the hall. “Hey Ridiculous, you come down for a late night
snack too.” I turn my head in the direction of the sound. “Oh Rid, are you feeling alright?”
Insanity looks me in the eyes. “Oh no..” San moves closer as I flinch away, “No, no stay there. I
just want you to sit down.” I stare down at the wood beneath my feet. “I can’t it's here,” I clutch
my fists tighter. “What's here?” Insanity smiles. “The Inevitable. I feel it.”I’m too late.” San leads
me to the table and I collapse into the wooden chair. It’s too late. “I'm too late.” You’re always
too late. “Rid, give me your hand.” Insanity takes my hand. Slowly my fingers are unfurled one
by one. Late? Late. I can’t be late! Sure. you tel l yourself that. “So,” San pulls out what looks like
a cloud from the corner of my eye, but I know is a cotton ball, out of the kit. “The Inevitable is
back huh?” I grunt in response and let out a hiss as the alcohol touches my raw skin. It's
coming. Its com ing. It's coming! “Do you know why?” Insanity leans in and finishes wrapping my
hand s. Do I? Do you? “How should I?” I stand up slowly, my voice raising along with my body.
“It’s you. You should know!” My head snaps to the mirror in the dimly lit hall and I move towards
it. “It’s you! You’ve caused this all of it!” I’m inches away, staring at the sickly thing in front of me.
“It’s you!” I pull back my fist and I’m inches away from shattering it “Let me go!” It smirks at me.
Pale skin, dark eye s. It mocks me. I do. “Let me go.” I slump back into the chair that San lead
me to. “I can’t” Insanity mocks. I lock onto the dark eyes of Insanity. I’m lost. Of course you are.
You will never be found.
Lightning cracks and the thunder soon follows. The pale white room is illuminated for a split
second, but is soon once again enveloped in darkness. I’ve grown used to it. I look at the small
plastic cup of water. I shakily take it in my hands and drink it, trying not to make a mess. I clear
my throat and glance at the five pills on the s mall table. Y ou won’t win. I can hear it smile. I
place them one by one under the mattress with the others. Flight is no longer an option. I hear
delirious laughter from behind my ears. Good morning sunshine.
Why? Why now? Why me? Why not? The radio goes static beside me and my eyes burn, but I
barely notice. I’m too focused on the beating in my skull. Not again. Never again . A lways. I open
my eyes only to feel the stinging in my hands, similar to my eyes, only with the addition of
crimson drops. This is it… the end. I find my way down the stairs. I take a turn to the kitchen
spotting the front door at the end of the hall. “Hey Ridiculous, you come down for a late night
snack too.” I turn my head in the direction of the sound. “Oh Rid, are you feeling alright?”
Insanity looks me in the eyes. “Oh no..” San moves closer as I flinch away, “No, no stay there. I
just want you to sit down.” I stare down at the wood beneath my feet. “I can’t it's here,” I clutch
my fists tighter. “What's here?” Insanity smiles. “The Inevitable. I feel it.”I’m too late.” San leads
me to the table and I collapse into the wooden chair. It’s too late. “I'm too late.” You’re always
too late. “Rid, give me your hand.” Insanity takes my hand. Slowly my fingers are unfurled one
by one. Late? Late. I can’t be late! Sure. you tel l yourself that. “So,” San pulls out what looks like
a cloud from the corner of my eye, but I know is a cotton ball, out of the kit. “The Inevitable is
back huh?” I grunt in response and let out a hiss as the alcohol touches my raw skin. It's
coming. Its com ing. It's coming! “Do you know why?” Insanity leans in and finishes wrapping my
hand s. Do I? Do you? “How should I?” I stand up slowly, my voice raising along with my body.
“It’s you. You should know!” My head snaps to the mirror in the dimly lit hall and I move towards
it. “It’s you! You’ve caused this all of it!” I’m inches away, staring at the sickly thing in front of me.
“It’s you!” I pull back my fist and I’m inches away from shattering it “Let me go!” It smirks at me.
Pale skin, dark eye s. It mocks me. I do. “Let me go.” I slump back into the chair that San lead
me to. “I can’t” Insanity mocks. I lock onto the dark eyes of Insanity. I’m lost. Of course you are.
You will never be found.
Lightning cracks and the thunder soon follows. The pale white room is illuminated for a split
second, but is soon once again enveloped in darkness. I’ve grown used to it. I look at the small
plastic cup of water. I shakily take it in my hands and drink it, trying not to make a mess. I clear
my throat and glance at the five pills on the s mall table. Y ou won’t win. I can hear it smile. I
place them one by one under the mattress with the others. Flight is no longer an option. I hear
delirious laughter from behind my ears. Good morning sunshine.
How To………… Procrastinate--Austin
Alright so in this How To I’ll teach you the essential art of procrastination and the
situations it should be utilized in. So I suppose there has to be steps to procrastination, so I
assume the first step would be . . . I haven’t really planned this out have I? Well let me leave so
I can figure out the steps . . .
Oh, I forgot I had to do this, I was busy getting snacks and some water. And after that I
turned on my TV and watched some HBO for a while, Then I got pretty tired and took a nap for
an half hour or so. Well I suppose now is as good a time as any for finishing this. So the first
step would be . . . AH, it would be to take your mind off of whatever task you don’t want to do.
Hmm I guess you would need a distraction to do that. What’s a good distraction? Let me check
my Snapchat while I wait for some ideas to come to me.
Did you know that Trump’s already standing up to China? Pretty interesting read, with
Trump talking to Taiwan president Tsai Ing-wen and then Trump badmouthing China in his
tweets. How will this affect our trade with China and any diplomatic agreements we have with
them? Well I guess that’s not important now; I should focus on finishing this “How to”. I’m sure
you guys don’t want to hear about world news, you want to learn how to professionally
procrastinate! So, what step am I on . . . ah yeah, step two, right? Hm let’s see, I have about
one other step so on to the second step. Step two is to then be oblivious to any reference to the
task you are supposed to do. So if someone tells you to start, act like you didn’t hear them. Or if
you did start and someone wants to know your progress then just - oh sorry, my phone is
ringing I’ll have to take this.
Guys, dinner was the best; we had four-layer lasagna with meat sauce and cheese and -
wait a minute, you don’t care, I’m supposed to be teaching you how to procrastinate. Actually
hold on, let me see if I even used that dash correctly. Uh huh . . .uh huuh . . . uh huuuuuuuuuh,
yup I did. Aren’t you guys proud of me?! NO? Well I’m not sure what you fellows really want
then. Fine, I’ll finish the “How to”. Did I finish the second step? Hmm, it seems only halfway
complete but I’ll just leave it at that, always time to finish tomorrow. So step three, wait a minute,
is there even a third step necessary? Let’s just say there is, so step three would be, “Get others
to finish your task for you.” Of course the easiest way to do this is in group projects. You can
slack off and others will do it for you since they need a good grade on the project. But this is for
amateurs. Real professional procrastinators should be able to get random people to finish their
work for them, even if the person never had any previous involvement in their work. SO I’m
going to leave this up to my sister to finish up, peace out guys.
. . . My sister didn’t want to finish this so, I guess I’m back. Actually I’m going to
procrastinate on this, maybe tomorrow guys.
situations it should be utilized in. So I suppose there has to be steps to procrastination, so I
assume the first step would be . . . I haven’t really planned this out have I? Well let me leave so
I can figure out the steps . . .
Oh, I forgot I had to do this, I was busy getting snacks and some water. And after that I
turned on my TV and watched some HBO for a while, Then I got pretty tired and took a nap for
an half hour or so. Well I suppose now is as good a time as any for finishing this. So the first
step would be . . . AH, it would be to take your mind off of whatever task you don’t want to do.
Hmm I guess you would need a distraction to do that. What’s a good distraction? Let me check
my Snapchat while I wait for some ideas to come to me.
Did you know that Trump’s already standing up to China? Pretty interesting read, with
Trump talking to Taiwan president Tsai Ing-wen and then Trump badmouthing China in his
tweets. How will this affect our trade with China and any diplomatic agreements we have with
them? Well I guess that’s not important now; I should focus on finishing this “How to”. I’m sure
you guys don’t want to hear about world news, you want to learn how to professionally
procrastinate! So, what step am I on . . . ah yeah, step two, right? Hm let’s see, I have about
one other step so on to the second step. Step two is to then be oblivious to any reference to the
task you are supposed to do. So if someone tells you to start, act like you didn’t hear them. Or if
you did start and someone wants to know your progress then just - oh sorry, my phone is
ringing I’ll have to take this.
Guys, dinner was the best; we had four-layer lasagna with meat sauce and cheese and -
wait a minute, you don’t care, I’m supposed to be teaching you how to procrastinate. Actually
hold on, let me see if I even used that dash correctly. Uh huh . . .uh huuh . . . uh huuuuuuuuuh,
yup I did. Aren’t you guys proud of me?! NO? Well I’m not sure what you fellows really want
then. Fine, I’ll finish the “How to”. Did I finish the second step? Hmm, it seems only halfway
complete but I’ll just leave it at that, always time to finish tomorrow. So step three, wait a minute,
is there even a third step necessary? Let’s just say there is, so step three would be, “Get others
to finish your task for you.” Of course the easiest way to do this is in group projects. You can
slack off and others will do it for you since they need a good grade on the project. But this is for
amateurs. Real professional procrastinators should be able to get random people to finish their
work for them, even if the person never had any previous involvement in their work. SO I’m
going to leave this up to my sister to finish up, peace out guys.
. . . My sister didn’t want to finish this so, I guess I’m back. Actually I’m going to
procrastinate on this, maybe tomorrow guys.
Visit Me More Often.--Somijah
To my guardian angel,
I hope you see this..
It’s your birthday soon and I find myself thinking of you more and more, wondering why I haven’t
seen you.. Why you haven’t come to visit me. If I would've known your last visit was your last, I
would've continued to sleep just a little longer because all I want is to know you since I never
received the chance to do so properly. I am upset with myself for taking our time for granted,
not asking the right questions for you to answer to fill my void of you but now all I have is this
one visitation and the memories from others. Along with your birthday, the holidays approach
and it’s just another reminder that you are not here to celebrate these events with and the family
continues to hide their grief through smiles and they don’t give you the recognition you deserve
and talk about you. Truthfully, I find it selfish when they do this, not including you in the holiday
festivities as if you left us purposely to hurt us but of course those weren’t your intentions.
Therefore, I am left here unknowledgable about you, your likes, your dislikes, what made you
smile, what made you laugh, what made you sad, how you felt when you looked at me. I want to
know anything and everything about you, after all I am your daughter. And with that being said, I
am 17 years old and I already know I will live a life not truly knowing my father through my very
own memories but through others. Every night is a routine where I look to your picture on my
nightstand and hope to see you in my sleep and every morning is a disappointment because
you weren’t there. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you. And that forces me to
wonder if you think of me as much as I think of you. I hope I’m not forgotten in your world
because you definitely will never be forgotten in mine. I find it ironic that I have strived to always
remember you, when I never even knew you. All I ask is that you visit me more often because it
seems you are the only one who can provide the answers to my questions and maybe even fill
my void. I hope to see you tonight... as I do every night. Please remember to visit me more
often.
Happy Birthday..
Rest In Peace, Omar Reed
I hope you see this..
It’s your birthday soon and I find myself thinking of you more and more, wondering why I haven’t
seen you.. Why you haven’t come to visit me. If I would've known your last visit was your last, I
would've continued to sleep just a little longer because all I want is to know you since I never
received the chance to do so properly. I am upset with myself for taking our time for granted,
not asking the right questions for you to answer to fill my void of you but now all I have is this
one visitation and the memories from others. Along with your birthday, the holidays approach
and it’s just another reminder that you are not here to celebrate these events with and the family
continues to hide their grief through smiles and they don’t give you the recognition you deserve
and talk about you. Truthfully, I find it selfish when they do this, not including you in the holiday
festivities as if you left us purposely to hurt us but of course those weren’t your intentions.
Therefore, I am left here unknowledgable about you, your likes, your dislikes, what made you
smile, what made you laugh, what made you sad, how you felt when you looked at me. I want to
know anything and everything about you, after all I am your daughter. And with that being said, I
am 17 years old and I already know I will live a life not truly knowing my father through my very
own memories but through others. Every night is a routine where I look to your picture on my
nightstand and hope to see you in my sleep and every morning is a disappointment because
you weren’t there. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you. And that forces me to
wonder if you think of me as much as I think of you. I hope I’m not forgotten in your world
because you definitely will never be forgotten in mine. I find it ironic that I have strived to always
remember you, when I never even knew you. All I ask is that you visit me more often because it
seems you are the only one who can provide the answers to my questions and maybe even fill
my void. I hope to see you tonight... as I do every night. Please remember to visit me more
often.
Happy Birthday..
Rest In Peace, Omar Reed
What is “Right” --Ashley
"I have lots of things to prove to myself. One is that I can live my life fearlessly."
-Oprah Winfrey
Recently I’ve decided my opinion is the most important one. It sound simple enough,but
it's taken me up to this point to realize it. Not to say that my parents were close minded, but I do
believe they had an idea about the type of daughter they would have. All of which are not me, to
be small, unassuming, and domestic is the complete opposite of who I am. At sixteen it is
expected of me to clean, it is expected to do my brother’s and father’s laundry, it is expected that
I cook all in preparation for this domestic lifestyle I am assumed to have later on. Since I can
remember I’ve always had to constantly defend my idea of what I want to do with my future and
who I hope to become. At a certain point I realized that it's useless and exhausting to explain
yourself to people who aren’t willing to hear you and have set in their ways for so long. So I
realized that anything I do with my best efforts and best intentions is "right ".The beginning of
my senior year, I promised my self I would do everything thing I could be more successful. Not
only for the grade, but the way I feel about myself knowing I’m doing my best to reach my full
potential. Eventually I saw that I can't rely on other people to support my choices if I feel like
they're right for me. As well as comes to the terms with the fact that my family not exactly agree
with what I want for myself. Being first-generation American comes with a list of cultural
obstacles I have to explain to my parents. While I’m appreciative of everything they’ve done, I
come to realize no one’s plan for yourself is more perfect than your own. Amid all the chaos, I
have learned some extremely important lessons about myself and others, particularly my parents.
In the sense that people will always have their preference of what they want you to do, not that
respecting others opinions aren't important however knowing your own goals in the long role
may be overall more fulfilling.
-Oprah Winfrey
Recently I’ve decided my opinion is the most important one. It sound simple enough,but
it's taken me up to this point to realize it. Not to say that my parents were close minded, but I do
believe they had an idea about the type of daughter they would have. All of which are not me, to
be small, unassuming, and domestic is the complete opposite of who I am. At sixteen it is
expected of me to clean, it is expected to do my brother’s and father’s laundry, it is expected that
I cook all in preparation for this domestic lifestyle I am assumed to have later on. Since I can
remember I’ve always had to constantly defend my idea of what I want to do with my future and
who I hope to become. At a certain point I realized that it's useless and exhausting to explain
yourself to people who aren’t willing to hear you and have set in their ways for so long. So I
realized that anything I do with my best efforts and best intentions is "right ".The beginning of
my senior year, I promised my self I would do everything thing I could be more successful. Not
only for the grade, but the way I feel about myself knowing I’m doing my best to reach my full
potential. Eventually I saw that I can't rely on other people to support my choices if I feel like
they're right for me. As well as comes to the terms with the fact that my family not exactly agree
with what I want for myself. Being first-generation American comes with a list of cultural
obstacles I have to explain to my parents. While I’m appreciative of everything they’ve done, I
come to realize no one’s plan for yourself is more perfect than your own. Amid all the chaos, I
have learned some extremely important lessons about myself and others, particularly my parents.
In the sense that people will always have their preference of what they want you to do, not that
respecting others opinions aren't important however knowing your own goals in the long role
may be overall more fulfilling.
How to make Chilaquiles--Matthew
Chilaquiles is a fried tortilla
dish with a spicy sauce that usually have sides of eggs and beans. Chilaquiles
is a popular dish for Mexicans that has been passed down for generations and it
is usually eaten for breakfast and it is cheap to make. Many families have
different ways to make Chilaquiles due to personal preferences, for example,
some families like to have avocado on their Chilaquiles once they are done
cooking it and others like to cook the eggs with the tortilla and the sauce.
Since, some of you guys do not know what Chilaquiles is, I am just going to
teach you how to make the basics and maybe, if you like the dish, you can
change up the recipe a bit. The tools you are going to need is a blender to
blend the sauce you are going to make, a knife to cut the onion into pieces and
to cut the garlic in half, a big pot to boil tomatoes and chilies, and a frying
pan to make Chilaquiles.
Ingredients:
1.
Canola oil
2.
Corn tortillas
3.
Onion
4.
sour cream (optional)
5.
Chilies
6.
Salt
7.
Queso Fresco (optional)
8.
Garlic
Steps to making Chilaquiles:
1.
Cut 20 tortillas into small bite squares
a.
Make sure
you cut them to the point where you can eat them comfortably
2.
Fry the cut tortillas on canola oil until they
are covered in oil and they are crispy
a.
Make sure
the tortillas are fried enough so they will not get soggy when you add the
sauce you make.
3.
Drain the tortillas and set them aside so we can
use it for later once we make the sauce.
4.
Boil 5 green chilies and 2 tomatoes until it is
soft and a fork is easily able to go through
a.
Boiling the chilies and tomatoes is just to give
the sauce extra flavor
5.
Blend the tomatoes and chilies with 1/3 of a
spoon of salt, half a garlic, two boiled tomatoes, and the chilies to make the
sauce.
6.
On the
pan cook one diced onion to give the Chilaquiles more flavor.
7.
Once the onion is cooked add tortillas chips and
chili sauce until it simmers.
8.
Serve everything on a plate then add shredded
queso fresco (optional), and sour cream (optional) on top.
The Queso Fresco and the sour cream is optional because that
is only if you like cheese or sour cream. I personally do not use sour cream on
my Chilaquiles because it takes away the spiciness from the sauce that is made
but if I can’t handle the spiciness (which is extremely rare because I love
spicy food) then I would add sour cream. If you would like to add extra
ingredients to the Chilaquiles, I would recommend adding cilantro, avocado,
chicken or jalapeños, and if you would like to have some sides for, I would
recommend eating Chilaquiles with beans and eggs.
How it should look depending on what added ingredients you
used:
How To Serve a Tennis Ball--Nick
For me, tennis started out as an excuse. Coming out of middle school, the last thing I
wanted to go through for two more years was P.E. To get out of this, I began tennis lessons
during the summer and made the team immediately. Since then, it’s become my main form of
exercise and a part of my high school experience. Using what I’ve learned since freshman year,
hopefully these steps will be able to teach you how to serve if you ever try tennis for yourself.
1. First, grip the ball with two or three fingers in your non-dominant hand. In the
other hand, grip the tennis racquet, with your index finger separated from the
other three fingers for support.
2. Rock your weight slightly backwards as you begin to throw the ball slightly in front
of you and just above the height of your arm holding the racquet straight up. At
the same time, begin to bring the racquet up behind your head (the ball toss
should be mainly with just the shoulder, not with the wrist or elbow).
3. As the ball is about to reach its apex, start to bend your knees and bring your
weight forward.
4. Once the ball comes down from its apex, jump slightly and swing the racquet up
over the shoulder to strike the ball, all while rotating your hips and shoulders and
keeping your eye on the ball.
5. Follow through with the racquet (it should end up close to your opposite-side hip),
and lead with your toes as you land to cushion the impact of hitting the ground.
Hopefully, from following these tips, you should be able to get the ball in the box on the
other side of the net with some speed and consistency. Thank you for reading my post, and
check out Anthony Mamaril’s steps on how to hit other shots in tennis!
wanted to go through for two more years was P.E. To get out of this, I began tennis lessons
during the summer and made the team immediately. Since then, it’s become my main form of
exercise and a part of my high school experience. Using what I’ve learned since freshman year,
hopefully these steps will be able to teach you how to serve if you ever try tennis for yourself.
1. First, grip the ball with two or three fingers in your non-dominant hand. In the
other hand, grip the tennis racquet, with your index finger separated from the
other three fingers for support.
2. Rock your weight slightly backwards as you begin to throw the ball slightly in front
of you and just above the height of your arm holding the racquet straight up. At
the same time, begin to bring the racquet up behind your head (the ball toss
should be mainly with just the shoulder, not with the wrist or elbow).
3. As the ball is about to reach its apex, start to bend your knees and bring your
weight forward.
4. Once the ball comes down from its apex, jump slightly and swing the racquet up
over the shoulder to strike the ball, all while rotating your hips and shoulders and
keeping your eye on the ball.
5. Follow through with the racquet (it should end up close to your opposite-side hip),
and lead with your toes as you land to cushion the impact of hitting the ground.
Hopefully, from following these tips, you should be able to get the ball in the box on the
other side of the net with some speed and consistency. Thank you for reading my post, and
check out Anthony Mamaril’s steps on how to hit other shots in tennis!
How to Hit a Tennis Ball--Anthony
Throughout my years in high school, as a member of the
Etiwanda boys varsity tennis team, I've always felt that tennis was
underestimated as a sport, and often I would hear from fellow athletes and
peers that "tennis isn't a sport." Well, all I can say to the haters
is that you are missing out on a sport that can keep you in shape and can be
played your entire life! If you head over to McDermott park in Heritage on any
given Saturday, you can find children as young as 4 and guys as old as 65
having a good time on the court. It is a sport that is easy to get into and is
fun with friends. So let's get started.
Here's what you need:
·
A working tennis racquet with intact
strings. (Can be found cheap at Walmart and Costco)
·
Tennis shoes (running/athletic shoes
can be used as well but tennis shoes are recommended because their soles are
specifically designed for moving on the court),
·
Tennis balls (They are sold in cans
of 3 at Target or you can buy bulk at Costco)
·
Hitting partner (or ball machine if
you have no friends)
·
A positive attitude (You don't want
a broken racquet that can give you splinters. I know this from experience)
There are two primary ways to hit a tennis ball: the
forehand and the backhand.
Note: Because there are a variety of ways to execute these
techniques, I will share how I was taught by my coach (I'm right handed so if
you are left handed, substitute "right" with "left" and
vice versa.)
How to hit the forehand groundstroke:
Steps:
1.
The forehand requires that you grab
the racquet at the bottom of the handle when the racquet is face down with your
dominant hand.
2.
When the tennis ball is coming your
direction, starting from an open stance position, step forward with your left
leg so that is in front of your right leg and bend your knees.
3.
Extend your left arm out so that your hand is
visibly on the oncoming tennis ball. This helps keep your eyes on the ball.
At the same time, extend the racquet behind you. In this twisted position, your
body is "powering" up to hit the shot.
4.
As the ball approaches, you then
"release" the tension by turning your shoulders and hips towards the
ball as you bring the racquet forward.
5.
As the ball approaches, you then
"release" the tension by turning your shoulders and hips towards the
ball as you bring the racquet forward. Rather than hit the ball flat on, you
want to "brush up" on the ball. Think of a windshield wiper
motion. This applies "topspin" on the ball which allows the ball
to dip downward onto the court rather than fly out and hit the fence.
6.
After you make contact, continue to
swing up across your body until the racquet finishes behind your left shoulder.
If you did this correctly, you can almost kiss the inside of your elbow and
your elbow should be pointing forward
Tip: The amount of power and spin on the ball as well as
where the ball lands in the court depends on the execution and timing of your
technique. You have to develop your execution through practice.
Here is former world #1, Roger Federer's forehand technique.
How to hit the backhand groundstroke:
Note: On the pro tours, players either use one hand or
two hands on the racquet handle when executing the backhand. My coach
taught me the double handed backhand so that is what I will teach you.
Tip: Similar to the forehand technique, you will be required
to use your legs, hip, and shoulder in tandem with each other to be able strike
the tennis ball with power.
Steps:
1.
With the face of the racquet facing
sideways, grab the bottom of the handle with your right hand as if "shaking
someone's hand". With your left hand, grab the handle in the space
above your right hand but grab the handle from the side rather than from on top
so that you can see your left hand fingernails when looking down.
2.
First, step forward with your right
foot and turn your hip and shoulder so that your right shoulder blade is facing
the tennis ball. Notice that this time, you don't have an extra hand to help
you keep your eyes on the ball.
3.
Extend both your arms behind you
while holding the racquet. When the ball is in front of you, swing your
shoulders and hip forward while bringing the racquet forward.
4.
Remember to "brush up" on
the ball then swing across your body with the racquet finishing behind your
shoulders.
Here is current world #2, Novak Djokovic's backhand:
Tennis is a sport that can get pretty competitive but can
also be played casually and still be enjoyed. It takes a long time to master these
techniques so don't expect to get the hang of it right away. You know what they
say, "Practice makes perfect." I have been playing tennis for almost
four years and every day I still practice and adjust my technique. In fact,
many professional tennis players, began playing tennis around the age of 4 and
had to vigorously train to develop their skills and master these techniques. If
you are interested in learning more tennis skills, read Nick's blog on how to
serve a tennis ball.
Picture Credits
·
https://www.google.com/search?q=forehand+tennis+swing&espv=2&biw=1366&bih=662&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiDkPuRpsXQAhXKjFQKHQ_kDWQQ_AUIBygC#imgrc=4Sos9fe35w_cZM%3A
(Federer forehand)
·
http://www.feeltennis.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/forehand-hip-rotation.jpg
(Federer forehand)
·
http://www.procomparetennis.net/media/sequence_images/640/ajel1298760638.jpg
(Djokovic bachhand)
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