she was a wide-eyed wanderer
mapping out the constellations
in her classmates' freckles;
she found a galaxy in their faces
twirling with impression of the milky way
and sparkling with the illuminating glow
of far away planets
she saw exploration and discovery in their smiles
and imagined the magic of the moon landing
in the dimples dwindling down their cheeks
she felt the cheers of the world
roaring in her ears as mankind stepped down
and trekked around their grins,
voyaged into their hearts
but in her own reflection
she found vast emptiness and silence
and she soon began to believe
that she was nothing
but a mere collection of dust and debris
swirling effortlessly to the rhythm of her
heartbeat
every mirror and every photograph
showed barren cracks and moon rocks
sitting quietly across her forehead
and down the bridge of her nose;
nothing but the quiet exhales of her breath
puffed through her rough exterior
she felt the heavy weight of the asteroid belt
anchoring her down, ricocheting through her veins
but every time she lay herself down to sleep
her eyes squeezed together with the utmost delicacy
waiting patiently to enter a world of twinkling stardust
and lightning fast comets
her soul floated in the open sky for years
calculating the amount of time it would take
to slide down the rings of Saturn,
formulating a way to ski through the eye of Jupiter,
scheming and plotting how to avenge the tragedy
of Pluto
her thoughts jumped from crater to crater
and she danced in meteor showers for millenniums;
she held her breath as she crossed the stratosphere
and jumped from Venus to Mars
bright-eyed and red-faced
she realized that a universe exists within her;
a storm within the sky
Monday, May 25, 2015
Sunday, April 12, 2015
the love story of ferdinand magellan
she was the ocean
with waves pounding upon the shore
swallowing grains of sand with every inhale
and spitting out tangled webs of seaweed
exhaling nothing but controlled chaos
with waves pounding upon the shore
swallowing grains of sand with every inhale
and spitting out tangled webs of seaweed
exhaling nothing but controlled chaos
he was not the swimmer
visiting for spring break with friends
wading in tidal pools of ecstasy,
but the voyager ready to map out
visions of their future
visiting for spring break with friends
wading in tidal pools of ecstasy,
but the voyager ready to map out
visions of their future
he felt her pounding against his skin
curving against his body
with the utmost delicacy
leaving him cloaked in a silky gossamer
dipped in droplets of desire
curving against his body
with the utmost delicacy
leaving him cloaked in a silky gossamer
dipped in droplets of desire
and when he made her laugh
ripples of sanguine sunshine
twinkled throughout the horizon
and when he made her cry
treacherous storm clouds melted
into lightning bolts of vigorous rage
ripples of sanguine sunshine
twinkled throughout the horizon
and when he made her cry
treacherous storm clouds melted
into lightning bolts of vigorous rage
but he did not escape
when she destroyed sandcastles
of creativity and innocence,
but ran his fingers through her hair
staining his fingertips with adoration
when she destroyed sandcastles
of creativity and innocence,
but ran his fingers through her hair
staining his fingertips with adoration
he spent nights leeched onto the buoy
subtly bouncing into her subconscious
until one day he poked too far
and she spit him up onto the shore
dehydrated and depleted
subtly bouncing into her subconscious
until one day he poked too far
and she spit him up onto the shore
dehydrated and depleted
she felt broken and busted
jagged and jaded
because countries of pandemonium
planted their roots around her body
and continents of conflict grew in her mind
jagged and jaded
because countries of pandemonium
planted their roots around her body
and continents of conflict grew in her mind
lost and dazed
her rage ignited whirlpools of fury
and tsunamis of confusion
because she no longer knew who she was
with parts of her here
and parts of her there
her rage ignited whirlpools of fury
and tsunamis of confusion
because she no longer knew who she was
with parts of her here
and parts of her there
so he set out to touch every coastline
letting her know that her vibrancy
exists in every corner of the world
and he sailed to each port
navigating her pulsating veins
with the galaxies of stars
that reflected in her eyes
letting her know that her vibrancy
exists in every corner of the world
and he sailed to each port
navigating her pulsating veins
with the galaxies of stars
that reflected in her eyes
he discovered sorrowful aftermaths
of deserted shipwrecks and accidents
hidden deep in her heart
but also found glittering trinkets
locked in chests hidden under debris
of deserted shipwrecks and accidents
hidden deep in her heart
but also found glittering trinkets
locked in chests hidden under debris
he traced the spiraling coral
that hardened around her bones
but felt the soft sponges that
absorbed the agony of everyone
who baptized their souls
and cleansed themselves of sin
that hardened around her bones
but felt the soft sponges that
absorbed the agony of everyone
who baptized their souls
and cleansed themselves of sin
she somberly watched
bits of herself evaporate each day
climbing ethereal vines into the sky
but he always filled
the vast void in her languid core
with reminders of life
bits of herself evaporate each day
climbing ethereal vines into the sky
but he always filled
the vast void in her languid core
with reminders of life
she was the natural palette of colors
that he used to paint pictures of
hope and rebirth
that he used to paint pictures of
hope and rebirth
and
together
they were art
4/12/2015
8:16 pm
4/12/2015
8:16 pm
Sunday, December 7, 2014
birthed from the cosmos
There are oftentimes I finish a book where I find myself in a literary limbo.
The characters I created such strong connections with dissipate into the atmosphere, yet the emotions I felt so greatly for them pulse throughout my veins.
The words have burned into my retinas, and the rawness of the story stained my fingertips as I traced the ink on the pages.
Her words sit in my throat and burn every time I swallow. I can feel my thoughts rumbling in my stomach as I sit here twisted up in knots. I cannot focus, and I cannot move. I feel permanently planted in this position, sitting and wondering, questioning and appreciating. I am angry, and I am sad. Her poignant words feel like blades digging into my body, carving me to a different person.
I am crying, and I am smiling. I feel caged and fortified, like someone is holding cement walls around my thoughts and prohibiting my expression from exploding in a frenzy of fireworks. And part of me wants to stay hidden, not yet ready to embark upon the noise of reality. Part of me wants to sit somberly against the hard, cold floor and wallow in my own thoughts, letting them entangle me in my inquisitions and drown me in my admiration. Yet somehow, I have never felt more liberated than I do at this moment. The moment that has lasted an eternity, the moment that stands still in time and lingers passively; the same moment that exists when you watch a raindrop glide down the car window or when you isolate your vision on one snowflake falling gently from the sky. I can feel the earth breathing through my skin, whispering for me to run, to pounce, to climb.
I want to fly, to ride the air like Milkman, and scream to the stars. I want to jump, to leap, and soar. We all fear for oblivion, for the disappearance of our lives, for the crumbling of our names. We all feel the drastic need to engrave our legacy into the stones left over by our ancestors, but Song of Solomon has changed my life.
I want to grow, like the stars in the sky, and I want explode, to collapse, in a nebulous web of chaos and utter beauty. I want my ashes sprinkled across the universe, in ever corner of the world. I want my hopes and aspirations to be reflected in every raindrop that falls from the clouds that hug mountains. I want my misery and agony to sting people in the eye like the sand of the desert. I want my insecurities and flaws to explore the depths of the planet like the dandelion seeds.
I no longer need to feel like I'm a part of nature because I am reminded of my humble beginnings. I was birthed from the cosmos, and I will carry that with my as the wind sweeps my from below.
The characters I created such strong connections with dissipate into the atmosphere, yet the emotions I felt so greatly for them pulse throughout my veins.
The words have burned into my retinas, and the rawness of the story stained my fingertips as I traced the ink on the pages.
Her words sit in my throat and burn every time I swallow. I can feel my thoughts rumbling in my stomach as I sit here twisted up in knots. I cannot focus, and I cannot move. I feel permanently planted in this position, sitting and wondering, questioning and appreciating. I am angry, and I am sad. Her poignant words feel like blades digging into my body, carving me to a different person.
I am crying, and I am smiling. I feel caged and fortified, like someone is holding cement walls around my thoughts and prohibiting my expression from exploding in a frenzy of fireworks. And part of me wants to stay hidden, not yet ready to embark upon the noise of reality. Part of me wants to sit somberly against the hard, cold floor and wallow in my own thoughts, letting them entangle me in my inquisitions and drown me in my admiration. Yet somehow, I have never felt more liberated than I do at this moment. The moment that has lasted an eternity, the moment that stands still in time and lingers passively; the same moment that exists when you watch a raindrop glide down the car window or when you isolate your vision on one snowflake falling gently from the sky. I can feel the earth breathing through my skin, whispering for me to run, to pounce, to climb.
I want to fly, to ride the air like Milkman, and scream to the stars. I want to jump, to leap, and soar. We all fear for oblivion, for the disappearance of our lives, for the crumbling of our names. We all feel the drastic need to engrave our legacy into the stones left over by our ancestors, but Song of Solomon has changed my life.
I want to grow, like the stars in the sky, and I want explode, to collapse, in a nebulous web of chaos and utter beauty. I want my ashes sprinkled across the universe, in ever corner of the world. I want my hopes and aspirations to be reflected in every raindrop that falls from the clouds that hug mountains. I want my misery and agony to sting people in the eye like the sand of the desert. I want my insecurities and flaws to explore the depths of the planet like the dandelion seeds.
I no longer need to feel like I'm a part of nature because I am reminded of my humble beginnings. I was birthed from the cosmos, and I will carry that with my as the wind sweeps my from below.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
It's a two-way street, not a fork in the road.
Social networking is powerful. Twitter, Tumblr, Facebook -- they're all platforms for people to voice their opinions with vigor. Albeit time-consuming, these websites are definitely precious for all groups of people. Within the past few months, Twitter has exploded in social issues. First, #YesAllWomen was trending in response to the school shooting in California. The gist of the situation revolved around a male student being rejected by a girl, leading him to promptly cause a school shooting (one of the 75+ school shootings that have happened since Sandy Hook, I might add). The tragedy sparked many feminists to harp over the inequality issue, as many people starting blaming the girl. "She should've given him a chance" and "Girls always friendzone the guys" became incredibly common sentences that stained the Internet. In response, feminists amplified the absurdity of that logic, explaining that women are not obligated to go out or date anyone they don't want to. Fighting the patriarchal ideologies that have become permanently ingrained into society, feminists made a strong case. However, men continued to plea their own case with their #NotAllMen hashtag, causing a major rift in women's plight for equality.
Before I continue, I would like to clarify something: the definition of feminism is the belief that men and women should have equal rights and opportunities. Feminism is not about degrading or vilifying men whatsoever, but people fail to realize that the whole reason there is a feminist movement is because women have been plagued with double standards, unjust and unfair economical statuses, and so much more as opposed to men. The feminist movement is NOT a way for women to victimize themselves. We are not trying to wiggle our way into some privilege; no, we're trying to fight for equality. Feminists aren't trying to bash on men, but we are the product of a patriarchal society; we've been built around a superiority for men. When men are assertive, they are seen as effective and efficient bosses. Women are seen as bitches and bossy. The phrase "to run like a girl" and to "throw like a girl" exist, downgrading girls' ability as equal counterparts. Humanity has grown around a notion that all women must settle down to a life of domesticity; too often, women are told to marry into money, inferring that they're incapable of being successful in life on their own. There are far too many statistics revealing the huge imbalance of women in politics, as bosses, as CEOs. Women are hypersexualized in ads. What does cleavage have to do with hamburgers? I understand that men are sexualized as well -- male models always fall under 8-pack abs, muscular, and a fine jaw line. However, just because men share a problem with women doesn't mean that society should justify it. Feminists rightfully support the removal of sexualization (of both men and women -- a fine example of equality) from advertising -- from society.
Now, recently, there has been a new hashtag trending on Twitter: #WomenAgainstFeminism. When I first heard of this hashtag, I was skeptical, but open-minded to hearing the arguments of others. I have accepted the fact that not everyone will agree with me. I never want to berate anyone for their own beliefs, but I have my limits. On feminism, there's a huge division between liberals and conservatives, understandably. I understand that, and I can even accept it without anger, but when uneducated citizens attack me, I can get extremely angry. First thing I noticed: there were a plethora of men posting with the hashtag #WomenAgainstFeminism. Do I need to explain the issue any further? Secondly, many people seem to lose the definition of feminism.
Now, everyone needs to understand that the Feminist Movement is composed of all sorts of people. There are some people very dedicated; others are bystanders but support the cause. There are Republicans who support feminism, as well as many Democrats. All people of all races are open to the idea of feminism, and there are plenty that have even spent their life spreading the importance of it. But, with any cause (i.e. Civil Rights, Gay Rights, Abortion, Gun Control, Taxes), there are extremists. A commonly heard term for the extreme feminists are "Feminazis", emphasizing their adamant stance on feminists. I, personally, do not identify as a Feminazi, but I am very involved in the movement itself. As with any issue, there will be defensive people who threaten those who oppose their ideas. There are numerous cases where feminists have told non-supporters to kill themselves or to go and die, to which countless conservatives are pinpointing the supposed cruelty of feminists. That's not fair. You cannot generalize a whole group of people. That's the equivalent of classifying all Republicans as slavery-endorsing racists. All groups are diverse; it would be impossible to call all single members by something some one person said.
I've scrolled through Twitter for quite some while tonight. The most common arguments against feminism revolve around three things:
1) "Because men are absolutely awesome, and women should appreciate them more" - GOPMommy
2) "I am not a victim. There is no war against [women]. I have & will continue to succeed in life, because I work for it, not used my gender as a "get out of jail free" card. & I love to be sexy for my man & cook for him ... in the kitchen!" - kravmagajessica
3) "I don't need feminism because 'feminism' is a predominately white middle-class movement created by and for white women...when these women wanted to work in the early 1930s - their argument was 'black women will take care of our children & make dinner' - When they wanted birth control, they advertised it as a ploy to stop 'black women from breeding'. Today, feminism is shaming women who love their men and want to have children. I am all for equal rights. *That makes me human.* Where is the poor-ist movement? Where is the black/men/women/people-ist movement?" - kravmagajessica
Here are my responses:
1) Please refer back to the definition of feminism. The essence of feminism is equality, which means that we thrive for a world in which all humans look at each other and think we're all equal. Many anti-feminists are for a "humanist" society, pleading for a day we can all live as humans without labels. That is feminism. That is literally what feminism is entitling. Men are awesome! Women are awesome as well! Men should appreciate women, just as women should appreciate men. It's a two way street, but with all the double standards and gender roles that have hit both genders, it's hard to find equality. So the feminist movement was formed to try and fix some of the gaps. Yes, there are feminists belittling others who don't agree with their views -- attacking women who want a life of domesticity and condemning those who want to cook and stay in the kitchen -- but you cannot label the whole movement as women who believe they're better than men. Yes, there are women who laugh at others who prefer to look nice for their men and want to shave to look nice, but at the same time, there are plenty of conservatives who believe that anyone who doesn't believe in Christ belongs in Hell. You cannot zoom in on one aspect of the movement and intensify what happened; feminism is much bigger than just one point. We're fighting both misogyny and misandry. It's a two-way street, not a fork in the road.
2) Without feminism, women wouldn't be able to vote, go to school, work, drive a car, or have any rights. We are not vicitimizing ourselves and assuming we'll gain whatever we want due to our gender; it's the opposite. Maya Angelou was a prominent feminists, and she worked so hard in her life, as a writer, dancer, actress, singer, speaker -- anything she put her mind to. Feminists have a work ethic. We work diligently so we are able to progress in society. If you want a life without feminism, fine, but I promise you, without feminism, you wouldn't be able to go on Twitter and voice your opinion. Feminists have worked hard to promote a place of equality. Feminists are literally fighting for every woman (even those against feminism, ironically).
3) Feminism, again, is for equality. Feminism includes everyone of all races, genders, social class, religious beliefs, ethnicities, nationalities, etc. It is a universally encompassing movement. It's not made for white women. In fact, I've found that most anti-feminists are made up of men and white-women (mostly white conservatives). Birth control was not made for black women to stop breeding (and keep in mind that most liberals support feminism and supported civil rights as well, so that argument doesn't seem to stand very well). Birth control is still necessary as a contraceptive to avoid unwanted pregnancies, and it is also used to treat many illnesses. You want a humanist movement? There is one, my uneducated friend. It's called the feminist movement. I know there are flaws. I, myself, am against many of the arguments of many feminists, but when it comes down to the principle of the matter, I am for equality, so I am for feminism.
Many people say there's no war against women, but you need to open your scope. The United States of America is not the only country there is a problem. Look all around the world. Sex slaves exist. Rape exists. Acid attacks exist. There is, indeed, a war on women.
Approximately half of the population in the whole world are women. You need to remember that just because you, as an anti-feminist woman, do not feel oppressed, does not mean that others don't.
Before I continue, I would like to clarify something: the definition of feminism is the belief that men and women should have equal rights and opportunities. Feminism is not about degrading or vilifying men whatsoever, but people fail to realize that the whole reason there is a feminist movement is because women have been plagued with double standards, unjust and unfair economical statuses, and so much more as opposed to men. The feminist movement is NOT a way for women to victimize themselves. We are not trying to wiggle our way into some privilege; no, we're trying to fight for equality. Feminists aren't trying to bash on men, but we are the product of a patriarchal society; we've been built around a superiority for men. When men are assertive, they are seen as effective and efficient bosses. Women are seen as bitches and bossy. The phrase "to run like a girl" and to "throw like a girl" exist, downgrading girls' ability as equal counterparts. Humanity has grown around a notion that all women must settle down to a life of domesticity; too often, women are told to marry into money, inferring that they're incapable of being successful in life on their own. There are far too many statistics revealing the huge imbalance of women in politics, as bosses, as CEOs. Women are hypersexualized in ads. What does cleavage have to do with hamburgers? I understand that men are sexualized as well -- male models always fall under 8-pack abs, muscular, and a fine jaw line. However, just because men share a problem with women doesn't mean that society should justify it. Feminists rightfully support the removal of sexualization (of both men and women -- a fine example of equality) from advertising -- from society.
Now, recently, there has been a new hashtag trending on Twitter: #WomenAgainstFeminism. When I first heard of this hashtag, I was skeptical, but open-minded to hearing the arguments of others. I have accepted the fact that not everyone will agree with me. I never want to berate anyone for their own beliefs, but I have my limits. On feminism, there's a huge division between liberals and conservatives, understandably. I understand that, and I can even accept it without anger, but when uneducated citizens attack me, I can get extremely angry. First thing I noticed: there were a plethora of men posting with the hashtag #WomenAgainstFeminism. Do I need to explain the issue any further? Secondly, many people seem to lose the definition of feminism.
Now, everyone needs to understand that the Feminist Movement is composed of all sorts of people. There are some people very dedicated; others are bystanders but support the cause. There are Republicans who support feminism, as well as many Democrats. All people of all races are open to the idea of feminism, and there are plenty that have even spent their life spreading the importance of it. But, with any cause (i.e. Civil Rights, Gay Rights, Abortion, Gun Control, Taxes), there are extremists. A commonly heard term for the extreme feminists are "Feminazis", emphasizing their adamant stance on feminists. I, personally, do not identify as a Feminazi, but I am very involved in the movement itself. As with any issue, there will be defensive people who threaten those who oppose their ideas. There are numerous cases where feminists have told non-supporters to kill themselves or to go and die, to which countless conservatives are pinpointing the supposed cruelty of feminists. That's not fair. You cannot generalize a whole group of people. That's the equivalent of classifying all Republicans as slavery-endorsing racists. All groups are diverse; it would be impossible to call all single members by something some one person said.
I've scrolled through Twitter for quite some while tonight. The most common arguments against feminism revolve around three things:
1) "Because men are absolutely awesome, and women should appreciate them more" - GOPMommy
2) "I am not a victim. There is no war against [women]. I have & will continue to succeed in life, because I work for it, not used my gender as a "get out of jail free" card. & I love to be sexy for my man & cook for him ... in the kitchen!" - kravmagajessica
3) "I don't need feminism because 'feminism' is a predominately white middle-class movement created by and for white women...when these women wanted to work in the early 1930s - their argument was 'black women will take care of our children & make dinner' - When they wanted birth control, they advertised it as a ploy to stop 'black women from breeding'. Today, feminism is shaming women who love their men and want to have children. I am all for equal rights. *That makes me human.* Where is the poor-ist movement? Where is the black/men/women/people-ist movement?" - kravmagajessica
Here are my responses:
1) Please refer back to the definition of feminism. The essence of feminism is equality, which means that we thrive for a world in which all humans look at each other and think we're all equal. Many anti-feminists are for a "humanist" society, pleading for a day we can all live as humans without labels. That is feminism. That is literally what feminism is entitling. Men are awesome! Women are awesome as well! Men should appreciate women, just as women should appreciate men. It's a two way street, but with all the double standards and gender roles that have hit both genders, it's hard to find equality. So the feminist movement was formed to try and fix some of the gaps. Yes, there are feminists belittling others who don't agree with their views -- attacking women who want a life of domesticity and condemning those who want to cook and stay in the kitchen -- but you cannot label the whole movement as women who believe they're better than men. Yes, there are women who laugh at others who prefer to look nice for their men and want to shave to look nice, but at the same time, there are plenty of conservatives who believe that anyone who doesn't believe in Christ belongs in Hell. You cannot zoom in on one aspect of the movement and intensify what happened; feminism is much bigger than just one point. We're fighting both misogyny and misandry. It's a two-way street, not a fork in the road.
2) Without feminism, women wouldn't be able to vote, go to school, work, drive a car, or have any rights. We are not vicitimizing ourselves and assuming we'll gain whatever we want due to our gender; it's the opposite. Maya Angelou was a prominent feminists, and she worked so hard in her life, as a writer, dancer, actress, singer, speaker -- anything she put her mind to. Feminists have a work ethic. We work diligently so we are able to progress in society. If you want a life without feminism, fine, but I promise you, without feminism, you wouldn't be able to go on Twitter and voice your opinion. Feminists have worked hard to promote a place of equality. Feminists are literally fighting for every woman (even those against feminism, ironically).
3) Feminism, again, is for equality. Feminism includes everyone of all races, genders, social class, religious beliefs, ethnicities, nationalities, etc. It is a universally encompassing movement. It's not made for white women. In fact, I've found that most anti-feminists are made up of men and white-women (mostly white conservatives). Birth control was not made for black women to stop breeding (and keep in mind that most liberals support feminism and supported civil rights as well, so that argument doesn't seem to stand very well). Birth control is still necessary as a contraceptive to avoid unwanted pregnancies, and it is also used to treat many illnesses. You want a humanist movement? There is one, my uneducated friend. It's called the feminist movement. I know there are flaws. I, myself, am against many of the arguments of many feminists, but when it comes down to the principle of the matter, I am for equality, so I am for feminism.
Many people say there's no war against women, but you need to open your scope. The United States of America is not the only country there is a problem. Look all around the world. Sex slaves exist. Rape exists. Acid attacks exist. There is, indeed, a war on women.
Approximately half of the population in the whole world are women. You need to remember that just because you, as an anti-feminist woman, do not feel oppressed, does not mean that others don't.
Thursday, July 3, 2014
Tripping down the rabbit hole and landing in North Carolina.
There's not much to do in suburbia in the summer, especially in the night. Although it's the eve of the nation's blessed Independence Day, and many people are out festively watching celebratory fireworks, I had a different idea in mind -- so a friend and I got into a car and drove around. We found a jogging trail and followed it until we reached the edge of a river. Tranquility at its finest, but the overbearing darkness didn't make for such a calm experience. My eyesight was gone, so the rest of my senses were tripled in power, and adrenaline was pumping throughout my body with vigor. Ultimately though, it was a nice half hour watching the moon's reflection dissipate in the ripples of the river. The chorus of crickets outside nicely complemented the flickering of the fireflies. It finally started feeling like summer tonight. After a while, we hopped back into the car and drove around a bit more. We blasted music and sang at the top of our lungs, and then decided to go home. However, as we reached the driveway of my house, we realized we weren't quite ready to retire for the night. It was 11:00 PM -- where to go? We took a quick drive around my neighborhood to brainstorm, and then we found ourselves happily at the swimming pool in my neighborhood. Was this allowed? Technically, no; the pool officially closes at 9 PM, but it's not like we were swimming or anything. We were quiet and serene, so I punched in the code to enter, flipped off my sandals and dipped my toes in the warm water.
Over the years I've lived in my current neighborhood, I've learned a trick or too. One thing I love about my swimming pool are the lights; once the sun sets and the darkness lurks in the sky, I can easily flip a switch and turn the pool a magnificent aquamarine color. The lights under the water, on the sides, lit up with an incredible flame, and I could feel the goosebumps climb up the crevices of my spine.
It was one of those moments you hear about in over-cliched teen romance movies. But it was real. It was one of those moments that you want to envelope into your pocket and save for a time of angst and melancholy sorrow. The wondrous rumble of the chlorine water paired perfectly with the frog croaks and cricket chirps. Even better, the sky was filled with constellations and galactic stars. I could see the patches of silver clouds peeking, seeping, through the blanket of stars, and I felt so real. Everything felt so real. For a while now, I've felt a bit lost -- I tripped down the rabbit hole. Only unlike Alice, I was alone and desperate for a way out. Lately, I've started to feel like, particle by particle, I've started to disappear into the atmosphere; I could feel the fibers of my soul starting to separate and dissipate into the universe, but tonight, everything changed. I felt myself solidify into my being, into my core, into my essence. I felt the memories rush inside me like the blood that keeps me alive. I felt nostalgia, euphoria, and a certain kind of sadness. But nothing quite mattered at that moment because I have never felt that alive.
Maybe there were just enough stars in the sky tonight. Maybe the color of the pool was just the right shade of blue. Maybe the crickets chirped at just the right frequency. Either way, the events pieced together to form a night of adolescent excellence. So I traced the surface of the water with my fingertips and shared my fingerprints with the bubbles waltzing throughout the water. I made more than a memory; I made a moment. It was surreal, and part of me doesn't want to go to sleep tonight in fear that I will wake up tomorrow thinking such a magical moment could only be logically categorized as a dream.
Being it the summer before senior year, there are plenty of events in store. There are college essay planning excel spreadsheets. There is summer homework. I have internships, online classes, prepping for big tests, and so forth. Recently, I've taken a break. I sat down with my family at dinner and discussed some events going on -- Tim Howard being the hallmark of America, the stomach-twisting story of the child left in the summer heated car, the (ridiculous) new power given to employees over contraception choices, and of course, Hurricane Arthur. The breeze has been really nice today, but my prayers go out to those in North Carolina that are in a state of emergency. They were given a week of calm weather only to be greeted by a torrential downpour.
I am North Carolina.
Senior year is Hurricane Arthur.
Tonight was my calm before the storm.
Over the years I've lived in my current neighborhood, I've learned a trick or too. One thing I love about my swimming pool are the lights; once the sun sets and the darkness lurks in the sky, I can easily flip a switch and turn the pool a magnificent aquamarine color. The lights under the water, on the sides, lit up with an incredible flame, and I could feel the goosebumps climb up the crevices of my spine.
It was one of those moments you hear about in over-cliched teen romance movies. But it was real. It was one of those moments that you want to envelope into your pocket and save for a time of angst and melancholy sorrow. The wondrous rumble of the chlorine water paired perfectly with the frog croaks and cricket chirps. Even better, the sky was filled with constellations and galactic stars. I could see the patches of silver clouds peeking, seeping, through the blanket of stars, and I felt so real. Everything felt so real. For a while now, I've felt a bit lost -- I tripped down the rabbit hole. Only unlike Alice, I was alone and desperate for a way out. Lately, I've started to feel like, particle by particle, I've started to disappear into the atmosphere; I could feel the fibers of my soul starting to separate and dissipate into the universe, but tonight, everything changed. I felt myself solidify into my being, into my core, into my essence. I felt the memories rush inside me like the blood that keeps me alive. I felt nostalgia, euphoria, and a certain kind of sadness. But nothing quite mattered at that moment because I have never felt that alive.
Maybe there were just enough stars in the sky tonight. Maybe the color of the pool was just the right shade of blue. Maybe the crickets chirped at just the right frequency. Either way, the events pieced together to form a night of adolescent excellence. So I traced the surface of the water with my fingertips and shared my fingerprints with the bubbles waltzing throughout the water. I made more than a memory; I made a moment. It was surreal, and part of me doesn't want to go to sleep tonight in fear that I will wake up tomorrow thinking such a magical moment could only be logically categorized as a dream.
Being it the summer before senior year, there are plenty of events in store. There are college essay planning excel spreadsheets. There is summer homework. I have internships, online classes, prepping for big tests, and so forth. Recently, I've taken a break. I sat down with my family at dinner and discussed some events going on -- Tim Howard being the hallmark of America, the stomach-twisting story of the child left in the summer heated car, the (ridiculous) new power given to employees over contraception choices, and of course, Hurricane Arthur. The breeze has been really nice today, but my prayers go out to those in North Carolina that are in a state of emergency. They were given a week of calm weather only to be greeted by a torrential downpour.
I am North Carolina.
Senior year is Hurricane Arthur.
Tonight was my calm before the storm.
Thursday, June 26, 2014
#selfie #yas #bae
I am a millennial. I am a part of Generation Y, and to some, I also classify to be categorized with Generation Z (a much worse generalization, supposedly). Time Magazine defines me as an adolescent grouped with the "me, me, me" generation, as it vilify and condemns us for our apparent narcissism and egomaniac attitude. In the ninth grade, one of my teachers warned my peers and I of the despicable deterioration of our generation; she felt compelled to pick apart our mannerisms, our fads, and our slang to tell us that we're self-centered and stupid. Why? Because our generation is immersed in a pool of technology? Because our generation feeds on Instagram, Snapchat, Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter? Because our generation grew a culture of hashtags and filters, selfies and subtweets? I was offended then, and I am offended now.
I understand the rapid growth of technology and the sudden importance of media nowadays. In fact, I often find myself infuriated with the presence of media in society; I don't approve of how the news plaster criminal faces all day long and never once mention and honor the victims of a wretched crime. I absolutely loathe how tabloids and beauty magazines often label certain people as "plus-sized" models when they look healthy and normal. There are many faults with society nowadays, but it is hypocritical and utterly ludicrous to blame my generation. We may be the future rulers of the world, and we may be the ones coming into power, into responsibility quite soon, but we are not the only ones at fault. We were raised by a different generation; the generation before us were the ones that put us into the economic situation we're in.
Yes, there's a ridiculous growth in teen pregnancy rates recently. But you know what else has raised? Average annual debt of recently graduated students. It is said that the average amount of debt a millennial has approximates around $45,000. Unfortunately, average annual income only totals up to around $39,500, leaving it nearly impossible to clear the debts that are racking up. Tuition is now 2.3% more expensive for my generation that the previous one; 2.3 doesn't sound like a very large number, does it? Think of it like this: over the last 28 years, tuition expenses have increased 538%. The anxiety levels of my generation have peaked to parallel the anxiety levels of psychiatric patients in the 1950s. Almost 60% of the girls growing up now feel like they have an eating disorder. 16.3% of Generation Y are completely unemployed, and in every 10 millennials, there are only 6 that are actually employed; 3 of them are only partial employed. While these numbers may not speak volumes at such a small scale, let me put this into perspective for you: There are 86 million people a part of the millennial generation; that is a gaping 7% larger than the baby boomer population, which in turn means that there are just that many more people living without a job. Too often, I find a story of a man or woman, Bachelor's Degree at their disposal, but no job. With a lack of proper income flow, there are 21.6 million millennials that have lived with their parents after college. Even the safest of careers are crumbling at the weight of the economy. A law degree is drastically declining in importance. Terrifying. Truly.
We may be fluent in #selfie, #yas, #that'sbae, but we've never been given a chance to speak our voice. Time after time, we're shot down. Time after time, we're turned away -- told we're too inexperienced, told we lack the skill necessary to master a specific task, told we're too immature. How are we supposed to prove ourselves when we don't even get an opportunity?
I understand that there are plenty of wild children in the world. There are too many people that find themselves obsessing over the number of likes they got on their Instagram picture, and countless people update their Snapchat stories and Facebook statuses as if they're the next bestseller novel, but so what? Why does it matter so much to the baby boom generation that we're indulging in some guilty pleasures? These are the fads that come along with the technology boom. Every generation is constantly complaining about the next one; even now, my peers and I judge those children born in the 2000s for their degrading behavior and loss of innocence. All in all though, each generation will have its own flaws, and each generation will have its pros. We all just need a taste of perspective and open-mindedness.
Times are changing. America has its first black President. American states are finally starting to allow same-sex marriage. Marijuana is becoming legal in some states; we're progressing as a nation, but the blatant tension between baby boomers and millennials are creating an inevitable rift. Such a dichotomous division is dangerous, for society, for humanity. The baby boomers lived through war, started the fiscal downfall, and engrossed themselves in the Civil Rights Movement, the Women's Movement, everything -- us millennials are dealing with the aftermath, so cut us some slack. We're all living on the same planet; we're all a part of the same ultimate community, so why not act like one? We're too busy arguing over our differences that we don't realize we have similarities.
We all have our own stories, so maybe the best solution is to listen to each other and aim for reform rather than retaliation.
I understand the rapid growth of technology and the sudden importance of media nowadays. In fact, I often find myself infuriated with the presence of media in society; I don't approve of how the news plaster criminal faces all day long and never once mention and honor the victims of a wretched crime. I absolutely loathe how tabloids and beauty magazines often label certain people as "plus-sized" models when they look healthy and normal. There are many faults with society nowadays, but it is hypocritical and utterly ludicrous to blame my generation. We may be the future rulers of the world, and we may be the ones coming into power, into responsibility quite soon, but we are not the only ones at fault. We were raised by a different generation; the generation before us were the ones that put us into the economic situation we're in.
Yes, there's a ridiculous growth in teen pregnancy rates recently. But you know what else has raised? Average annual debt of recently graduated students. It is said that the average amount of debt a millennial has approximates around $45,000. Unfortunately, average annual income only totals up to around $39,500, leaving it nearly impossible to clear the debts that are racking up. Tuition is now 2.3% more expensive for my generation that the previous one; 2.3 doesn't sound like a very large number, does it? Think of it like this: over the last 28 years, tuition expenses have increased 538%. The anxiety levels of my generation have peaked to parallel the anxiety levels of psychiatric patients in the 1950s. Almost 60% of the girls growing up now feel like they have an eating disorder. 16.3% of Generation Y are completely unemployed, and in every 10 millennials, there are only 6 that are actually employed; 3 of them are only partial employed. While these numbers may not speak volumes at such a small scale, let me put this into perspective for you: There are 86 million people a part of the millennial generation; that is a gaping 7% larger than the baby boomer population, which in turn means that there are just that many more people living without a job. Too often, I find a story of a man or woman, Bachelor's Degree at their disposal, but no job. With a lack of proper income flow, there are 21.6 million millennials that have lived with their parents after college. Even the safest of careers are crumbling at the weight of the economy. A law degree is drastically declining in importance. Terrifying. Truly.
We may be fluent in #selfie, #yas, #that'sbae, but we've never been given a chance to speak our voice. Time after time, we're shot down. Time after time, we're turned away -- told we're too inexperienced, told we lack the skill necessary to master a specific task, told we're too immature. How are we supposed to prove ourselves when we don't even get an opportunity?
I understand that there are plenty of wild children in the world. There are too many people that find themselves obsessing over the number of likes they got on their Instagram picture, and countless people update their Snapchat stories and Facebook statuses as if they're the next bestseller novel, but so what? Why does it matter so much to the baby boom generation that we're indulging in some guilty pleasures? These are the fads that come along with the technology boom. Every generation is constantly complaining about the next one; even now, my peers and I judge those children born in the 2000s for their degrading behavior and loss of innocence. All in all though, each generation will have its own flaws, and each generation will have its pros. We all just need a taste of perspective and open-mindedness.
Times are changing. America has its first black President. American states are finally starting to allow same-sex marriage. Marijuana is becoming legal in some states; we're progressing as a nation, but the blatant tension between baby boomers and millennials are creating an inevitable rift. Such a dichotomous division is dangerous, for society, for humanity. The baby boomers lived through war, started the fiscal downfall, and engrossed themselves in the Civil Rights Movement, the Women's Movement, everything -- us millennials are dealing with the aftermath, so cut us some slack. We're all living on the same planet; we're all a part of the same ultimate community, so why not act like one? We're too busy arguing over our differences that we don't realize we have similarities.
We all have our own stories, so maybe the best solution is to listen to each other and aim for reform rather than retaliation.
Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Don't walk towards the murderer, you idiot. Call the police already!
I don't spend days upon days marathon watching Netflix shows because I have nothing better to do. I don't mindlessly watch season after season because I'm bored. I watch television because it amplifies my emotions. It's my form of soul-searching, and I have no shame whatsoever.
The best television shows skillfully craft together protagonists and antagonists with such subtly that you don't even realize the contrasts that exist between them. They can magically pair together people that automatically sync together in their actions. The most talented ones can rip my heart out and leave me sobbing at 3 AM with one little plot twist. Now, I'm not saying I enjoy the pain that comes from killing off my favourite characters or the agony that occurs from the falling out between two characters, but it evokes emotion. And boy, am I an emotional person.
I definitely have a problem with getting emotionally attached to the characters in television shows, but can you blame me? How do you not feel some love for the people you've been with for seven seasons? You've learned their quirks, their mannerisms, their sayings. I've even found myself familiar with their slang. It's inevitable. I always get really invested in the lives of television characters, and while they are fictional and not at all like real life, I indulge in my little guilty pleasure. I live vicariously through them. I've slept with the President. I've traveled through time, saving the world from ferocious and conniving aliens. I've killed demons, gotten kicked out of Stanford only to become an international spy, and worked for the Santa Barbara Police Department as their prime psychic detective. Through the characters' passions, interests, and life experiences, I've discovered myself. Living in the suburbs doesn't give me much opportunity to pursue my own life experiences; I've scoured the Internet reading about adolescents that have climbed mountains and para-sailed over volcanoes, but at the same time, I've come to accept that my life just isn't all that interesting. It has interesting moments, that's for sure. I've gone to amazing concerts, spent a whole summer with the most brilliant people I've yet to meet, and I've traveled all around the historically significant villages of China. I've definitely cashed in quite a lot of money at the bank of memories, but I don't live a life of adrenaline and hype. Luckily for me, I have the privilege of watching television (on the computer... that counts, right?). I've spent endless nights watching Netflix til 3 AM, to which I promptly tell myself I need to sleep. I never listen to my own advice though.
However, through my self-rebellion, I've learned more and more about myself. I've realized that I am, despite what I tell myself every day, that I am a hopeless romantic. I'd be a sucker if I found myself a fiance like Evan R. Lawson on Royal Pains. I've realized that I oftentimes feel like I'm different from other girls, like Robin on How I Met Your Mother. Yet, at the same time, I've realized that I'm a kid at heart, like John Dorian from Scrubs. I've realized that it's okay to not fall into peer pressure, like Poussey from Orange Is the New Black, and I love that I've realized that feminism is necessary and of grave importance thanks to Oliva Pope from Scandal. I've realized that I do indeed have major problems with my family. Television has broken the wall that I have built around my vulnerabilities and delved straight into the war with my insecurities and fears. It has dug the repressed memories and neglected problems I've buried under piles and piles of concrete.
I know Hollywood is far from accurately depicting real life; there's always a happy ending, and the high schoolers in TV shows are all, in actuality, 20+ years old. That's okay; that's capitalism and marketing at its finest -- hazard of the trade. But television does the same wondrous and magical thing that books do; it teaches you. From the mistakes made on shows, you learn how to apply them to your life. Even in horror movies, you learn to never go towards the creaky noises and to always call the police immediately.
As I keep watching TV shows, I find myself seeing myself in all the characters, good or bad, and that's because I'm not a product of directors and writers. I make mistakes, and I screw up more times than I'd like to admit. In TV shows, there's usually an obviously "good" character and a notoriously known "bad/evil" character. In life, it's not always that easy, so sometimes it's easier to watch someone else go through the runs of their, albeit made-up, life. And through their story and perspectives, you start to see yourself reacting the same way they would. You begin to understand the mindset and ideologies of the villain. Most importantly, I've begun to really grasp the fact that I am human, which means that I am far from perfect. And that's okay.
Being an adolescent is tough; there are nights when a blanket of angst and aggravation veils upon the atmosphere. There are times when I am devoured by my over thinking. There are way too many days when I feel hopeless, lost without any motivation or determination. The littlest of things seem like Mt. Everest to overcome. Television has broadened my perspective. Do I owe my maturity to Netflix? Maybe, maybe so. But that's beside the point; the point is that everyone feels a little different when they're growing up. Everyone feels a bit like an outcast, and that's perfectly acceptable. Ironic, though. Ironic that we are all somehow united in our feelings of difference. So, sometimes it's nice to use fictional characters as a safety net. It's okay to bond with made up stories and relate to their made up adversity.
Now onto my third year of having Netflix, I've come to predict many events in shows. So far, I've been able to accurately call ever major event in Bates Motel. Even when I was little and had "family movie night", I was able to figure out all the plot twists before their big unveiling. Directors can't seem to fool me. But that doesn't mean all the joy is sucked out of them. I still anticipate the big shock, and it's very obvious that plot twists are common in every television show -- some more cliche than others. Directors, writers, and anyone and everyone that works with the production of a show have power. You do too. We all do. We are the directors of our own show. We get paid in life experience. We have season finales too. We have dramatic buildups. We have tragedy. We have bliss. So watch some television. Learn from the characters; learn what you like and what you don't. Learn what kinds of people you'd envision a future with. Learn what types of people to avoid at all costs. Learn what kind of scenery makes you wake up in a good mood every day. Learn all about yourself, and explore the sea of your personality, and produce one hell of a show.
1, 2, 3... Action!
The best television shows skillfully craft together protagonists and antagonists with such subtly that you don't even realize the contrasts that exist between them. They can magically pair together people that automatically sync together in their actions. The most talented ones can rip my heart out and leave me sobbing at 3 AM with one little plot twist. Now, I'm not saying I enjoy the pain that comes from killing off my favourite characters or the agony that occurs from the falling out between two characters, but it evokes emotion. And boy, am I an emotional person.
I definitely have a problem with getting emotionally attached to the characters in television shows, but can you blame me? How do you not feel some love for the people you've been with for seven seasons? You've learned their quirks, their mannerisms, their sayings. I've even found myself familiar with their slang. It's inevitable. I always get really invested in the lives of television characters, and while they are fictional and not at all like real life, I indulge in my little guilty pleasure. I live vicariously through them. I've slept with the President. I've traveled through time, saving the world from ferocious and conniving aliens. I've killed demons, gotten kicked out of Stanford only to become an international spy, and worked for the Santa Barbara Police Department as their prime psychic detective. Through the characters' passions, interests, and life experiences, I've discovered myself. Living in the suburbs doesn't give me much opportunity to pursue my own life experiences; I've scoured the Internet reading about adolescents that have climbed mountains and para-sailed over volcanoes, but at the same time, I've come to accept that my life just isn't all that interesting. It has interesting moments, that's for sure. I've gone to amazing concerts, spent a whole summer with the most brilliant people I've yet to meet, and I've traveled all around the historically significant villages of China. I've definitely cashed in quite a lot of money at the bank of memories, but I don't live a life of adrenaline and hype. Luckily for me, I have the privilege of watching television (on the computer... that counts, right?). I've spent endless nights watching Netflix til 3 AM, to which I promptly tell myself I need to sleep. I never listen to my own advice though.
However, through my self-rebellion, I've learned more and more about myself. I've realized that I am, despite what I tell myself every day, that I am a hopeless romantic. I'd be a sucker if I found myself a fiance like Evan R. Lawson on Royal Pains. I've realized that I oftentimes feel like I'm different from other girls, like Robin on How I Met Your Mother. Yet, at the same time, I've realized that I'm a kid at heart, like John Dorian from Scrubs. I've realized that it's okay to not fall into peer pressure, like Poussey from Orange Is the New Black, and I love that I've realized that feminism is necessary and of grave importance thanks to Oliva Pope from Scandal. I've realized that I do indeed have major problems with my family. Television has broken the wall that I have built around my vulnerabilities and delved straight into the war with my insecurities and fears. It has dug the repressed memories and neglected problems I've buried under piles and piles of concrete.
I know Hollywood is far from accurately depicting real life; there's always a happy ending, and the high schoolers in TV shows are all, in actuality, 20+ years old. That's okay; that's capitalism and marketing at its finest -- hazard of the trade. But television does the same wondrous and magical thing that books do; it teaches you. From the mistakes made on shows, you learn how to apply them to your life. Even in horror movies, you learn to never go towards the creaky noises and to always call the police immediately.
As I keep watching TV shows, I find myself seeing myself in all the characters, good or bad, and that's because I'm not a product of directors and writers. I make mistakes, and I screw up more times than I'd like to admit. In TV shows, there's usually an obviously "good" character and a notoriously known "bad/evil" character. In life, it's not always that easy, so sometimes it's easier to watch someone else go through the runs of their, albeit made-up, life. And through their story and perspectives, you start to see yourself reacting the same way they would. You begin to understand the mindset and ideologies of the villain. Most importantly, I've begun to really grasp the fact that I am human, which means that I am far from perfect. And that's okay.
Being an adolescent is tough; there are nights when a blanket of angst and aggravation veils upon the atmosphere. There are times when I am devoured by my over thinking. There are way too many days when I feel hopeless, lost without any motivation or determination. The littlest of things seem like Mt. Everest to overcome. Television has broadened my perspective. Do I owe my maturity to Netflix? Maybe, maybe so. But that's beside the point; the point is that everyone feels a little different when they're growing up. Everyone feels a bit like an outcast, and that's perfectly acceptable. Ironic, though. Ironic that we are all somehow united in our feelings of difference. So, sometimes it's nice to use fictional characters as a safety net. It's okay to bond with made up stories and relate to their made up adversity.
Now onto my third year of having Netflix, I've come to predict many events in shows. So far, I've been able to accurately call ever major event in Bates Motel. Even when I was little and had "family movie night", I was able to figure out all the plot twists before their big unveiling. Directors can't seem to fool me. But that doesn't mean all the joy is sucked out of them. I still anticipate the big shock, and it's very obvious that plot twists are common in every television show -- some more cliche than others. Directors, writers, and anyone and everyone that works with the production of a show have power. You do too. We all do. We are the directors of our own show. We get paid in life experience. We have season finales too. We have dramatic buildups. We have tragedy. We have bliss. So watch some television. Learn from the characters; learn what you like and what you don't. Learn what kinds of people you'd envision a future with. Learn what types of people to avoid at all costs. Learn what kind of scenery makes you wake up in a good mood every day. Learn all about yourself, and explore the sea of your personality, and produce one hell of a show.
1, 2, 3... Action!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)