Author: Lola

PW#7

The name wasn’t forgotten but forgotten was the name.

And if you don’t remember what they look like, did they even exist? Did you forget past that point in time? I think so, I can’t remember what they look like, but I can’t recall why I don’t remember, if there was ever a reason. I think maybe I’m so used to this routine, where I only remember those around me for the most part of my life. If you said the name I’d say I know them, because I do, but I can’t remember why, so don’t ask me what they look like. You’d say she has red hair, I thought she had it brown, or did she? I can’t remember. Even if i saw her yesterday, I can’t remember, and I don’t recall why. I don’t think there ever was a reason.

You’d say Bonnie, I can’t remember that name, I can’t recall what she looks like, but I have a feeling I know her. If you asked what I look like, I don’t think staring at my hands would help, I’d need a mirror, or a camera. Sometimes I feel like I can recall things, when I try nothing comes out. The mirror doesn’t feel like its me, the world doesn’t feel real, and during those times I remember, I remember it feels fake. I remember the earth goes round, gravity keeps me in place, then I almost fall over, because I realize we are not on the ground, what is the ground?

And it happens almost everyday, that my brain might be one to look past the tiny circle of a world we live in, I haven’t met many who do so. When I look at my wrist, I see the veins, and I feel sick. Because you could die, if those arteries broke, and its not a matter of losing your hand, but a matter of the pressure. You can get an aneurysm at any time, so who tells you the body isn’t literally glass. I realize, it could happen at any time, and I feel sick, sick to my stomach. When I think about it, I don’t feel safe with my body, what if I am not being gentle enough? What if it breaks, who will come to stop the bleeding?

Does Earth make sense? And before you answer this question I may ask, think about it for a second, because is this our life, or is it mine? How do you know people are real? Because they respond? You can feel them? Yet I can’t help but wonder, how does that define someone? Is it cut down to that they can feel? But you can’t feel what they do, and that scares me. Because one day you might realize, what defines life. Life isn’t just the animals, it is not just earth, not just your experience, but it could be everything, and most importantly something unnameable. It is called life for a reason, there is no word to describe it other than.

Don’t waste it, because when you die there are two options, you live again or never so. It’s a 50/50 chance I wouldn’t test, because either way you won’t be able to tell them, “You are worth it”.

So, the name was me, I remembered my name. But I know this will all happen again tomorrow, and I will forget, then I will remember, a peaceful loop.

IRJE #6

Letters In Unobtrusive Hands is a short book written by my very dear best friend Tarissa W. which was made specifically for me a short while ago, and I have just finished reading it, I thought to talk about this because I feel not far enough in my current book for a suitable topic. This book focuses on two people who were best friends, in which one struggles with remembering things, (Can be interpreted as Anterograde Amnesia or not) and the other writes letters to this person to guide them through what one could describe as a “Trauma Response”.

“If this is your winning personality, I would hate to see you losing it. It feels good to know that me and my old self agree on something. Tell me a story about us, are you this charming to all your friends or am I on the privileged list?”

This quotation touches my heart, truly because in these words “It feels good to know that me and my old self agree on something” signals that Kinsei (our character that struggles with memory) is intact with himself, it makes him feel happy too, its sort of the feeling that you cant recall or know why something makes you feel lifted, but it just does. The part about losing the winning personality is also heartwarming, it is more or less something that makes sense when you actually read it, where the “winning personality” is actually just the other character being confident with themself, which is often seen as being self-absorbed, but i think this was a nice touch that Kinsei finds a peace at the confidence. Looking into it better, both parts of him agreeing goes to show how it just feels so right, to have that kind of energy, it suits the person, its comfortable. I think everything about this story is a nice touch, even the ending which made me feel very sad, it definitely is a more accurate portrayal with internal struggles, it feels way more real to me than most books I read with this kind of stuff, which often uses stereotypes of mental illnesses instead of looking into the actual phycology and things. While reading this story I also researched along the way to get a better grasp at things, lovely short story, bawling my eyes out at the end if I am going to be honest.

PR to “Rhyme Of The Ancient Mariner”

I have always wanted to be an actor, and some of that includes memorizing lines, but when it was time to memorize the poems’ lines’ I found out that I have no time in my schedule for anything. Practicing for the recitation was so tiring because I stayed up late just to make sure I got every line right on every word, I wanted to get that full mark so bad. Memorizing was a hassle, because when I go to practice again I mess up little words like “no higher than the moon” instead of “no bigger than the moon”. Part of my study habits is if I mess up I redo the whole thing, this took many times to get off the first line. “Right up above the mast did stand” was a line i often forgot, over and over. I didn’t think I needed to actually be reciting a whole poem for English, but I am here. sometimes I just passed out while reading the lines. In class when I saw people presenting before me I got super nervous, because it reminded me about the book speech where I couldn’t get anything out of my mouth, and I suddenly forgot everything, the world was doomed and everyone was staring at me like the smallest thing I did wrong was the biggest mistake, and silently judging me in every little thing. It was not like that, I blurred my eyes and pretended to look at people while focusing on reciting, this made it impossible for me to see any details. I felt like I was too quiet, and I should have been more dramatic, but at the same time I was still and couldn’t bring myself to move at all. Another point was my words have always been slurred, its my sort of way I just speak, I felt nervous about if my words would be too slurred, if anyone could understand that or if i got lower marks. My stillness was uncomfortable, I felt too formal but couldn’t move, my voice sounded very monotone but I was scared of laughter and judgement if I did anything to the best of my ability. In the end I sat down and silently screamed in my head for eternal guidance and help.

PR to Jekyll & Hyde

I think that Jekyll and Hyde was an interesting book, however it was very predictable, and within the first chapter, when it was mentioned the doctor looked at Hyde in hatred, it was already evident there would be something wrong. It was confusing for me, about the little girl, when Hyde trampled over her, how did he do so? Obviously he was not in a car, mentioned they both ran/walked into each other, but wouldn’t the girl still have been big enough to not simply walk on? It was confusing for me, that part because he doesn’t try to trample over her, he does it, but he doesn’t try to do it, but how did he do it?

I think it was a confusing story, a lot of which because we don’t know a lot of pieces of the puzzle until later in the story, which we have to kind of go back to in the book to fit in place, it was sort of like the timeline was a little messed up, or maybe it was hard for me to understand. I also did not get how Hyde died, all I saw was Poole and Utterson open the door and Hyde was already dead, so maybe I missed a paragraph but otherwise, how would we know how he died?

A lot of this book raises questions out of me that it doesn’t answer itself, even in the end and that is kind of frustrating. A lot of people say this book represents Borderline-Personality Disorder, but what i understand more out of this is the fact that it was more of a guilt with himself, when you get raised a certain way to despise the other way, and when you begin to even think about the other way it disgusts you. I think it was more of a disgust with himself due to the way that religion was taught back then, how it was disgusting to even feel or think about things like alcohol, a lot of it was Jekyll trying to rid himself of these things, but I think some thoughts were if he died as himself together, he would go to hell for having that side, so he made a potion to split himself, I don’t think Jekyll even considers Hyde a part of him, whatever Hyde does as Hyde IS Hyde, whatever Jekyll does as Jekyll IS Jekyll, and in that sense he probably didn’t consider himself to be him, he thought that when split, if Jekyll and Hyde both die then Jekyll goes to heaven and Hyde goes to hell because they would no longer be the same person, right? It was more or less a hatred towards himself with a sense of guilt and confusion, Jekyll didn’t consider them the same person, simply because they no longer coexisted in the same body within the same time.

This book was more or less confusing unless we just talk about Hyde and Jekyll overall, that is which what i understood. However there is still many questions I could only wish for an answer to. It was a good book, but very predictable in a sense that I cannot explain.

PW#6

Not all good people get the life they deserve, many die early and the others are tortured through image and reflection. Butterflies have a somewhat poisonous powder on their wings, but moths just like lights, and when they fly towards the “sun”, they get killed off before ever getting there. Not all sheep are white, some are grey and brown and black, but people like white sheep, because that is what a sheep is “supposed” to look like. The most famous clothing brands can make terrible shoes, so maybe buying from a not so well known shoe store is a nice change. Pretty people get picked first, pretty privilege is more important than knowledge. I want to be an actor, i work so hard, only 0.04% make it big. More people die by cows every year than sharks. Beauty is often in found in your fear.

I’ll tie my hair up, I promise I will, I’ll straighten it, you can have it, everything, take take take and don’t give back, throw it away when you are bored, erase me because I don’t belong on the map. People people people, they want what belongs to us, they poke and they jeer, then take what they tortured, write their name on it like sharpie, then use it so everyone believes its theirs, and they throw it away right after. People people people, they say they support, they say they ally and then point a gun to our heads, and pull the damn trigger. People people people, think they can do what they want, because they want it, but we damn as well don’t, yet they will do it anyways because it’s them. People people people, I’ll hold your hand when those brass knuckles hit you in the face, when you move schools and leave your friends behind. People people people, hold my hand when they call me those names and give me those looks. People people people, hold my hand when I tell you it offends me, hold my hand when I told you it hurts, please hold my hand when I’m sleeping in tears, I’m begging you to hold my hand when they lie to my face, I’m crying so you can hold my hand when they erase my existence, you need to hold my hand when I want to hold yours. That’s the reflection, and you were the image. That was the sun, and you fell before it. You were the slaughtered, and that was the flock. You were the shoes but the glue gave up on you. You were the knowledge in this pretty world. You were the work and that was a 0.04 chance. You were no shark, and no cow, you were a moth and she was the butterfly, but where was the poison? what does that make me?

Hold my hand when I tell you they said I am neither.

IRJE#5

“Girl Interrupted” Is a memoir written by the author ‘Susanna Kaysen’ in which it follows no linear storyline, simply experiences in the ward she was in during the 60’s. It starts when Susanna Kaysen starts by accidentally overdosing, committing to irreversible actions and then getting sent to the physic.

 I didn’t write it down in a fucking book! I told you to your face. And I told Daisy to her face – what everybody knew and wouldn’t say, and she killed herself. And I played the fucking villain, just like you wanted.

Although I understand this quote is very short, it is a very important sentence that I would like to analyze. Its important in the sense that its something everyone, especially teenagers experience in their life. “I didn’t write it down in a fucking book! I told you to your face.” Is in the same sense that many hide their true feelings, even from friends because it is something seen as cruel or harsh, when in reality it just the truth, raw and un-forgetful because it was not a lie, it was pure, pure feeling and pure rot of emotions. “And i told daisy to her face – what everybody knew and wouldn’t say” As in how people are never honest of their words, especially if we put this in world context really quick, how many times have you agreed to something because others have, even if you don’t actually agree with it? In the truth that, people prefer to talk behind backs, never to anyone’s face, never honest. “And i played the fucking villain, just like you wanted.” Where in the world, even today, when people express raw and truthful emotions, no matter how we put it, we will be shamed. People are seen as villains if they are honest, but seen as liars if they aren’t. When someone speaks truth, everybody else lives in ignorance, where we all have to live the same to be equal. How society forces people to be harsh, rude, evil if they are speaking facts, nobody else says it, but as soon as you do everything comes tumbling down. People want you to be the villain, so everyone hates you, so they don’t out themselves the way you did, they can be seen as normal or humane. The world is full of lies, but we only end up damaging the chain of them, never breaking it.

PR “Our Town”

“Our Town” is a very out of world and place play (literally), with a very extraordinary narrator, who narrates the play in a interesting manner of where he tells us what the future beholds at random spots in the story. Most would say, that for an interesting character would be one we have followed, like Ms. Webb, or Emily, or the aforementioned Narrator, but i would like to point out how Simon Stimson quite changed a lot, even for appearing very few times and late in the book, Simon Stimson changes quite well.

The first time we see Simon Stimson is during a choir practice, where they sing “Blessed be the tie that binds” in which he is partly drunk and directs the choir to be “softer” which then leads to a fit of him yelling at them in rage. we later learn that Simon Stimson is a raging alcoholic in the words of Mrs. Soames “To have the organist of the church drunk and drunk year after year.” and Mrs. Webb “Its getting better. i have been in that choir twice as long as you have.” suggesting that Simon Stimson, despite having a despisable alcoholic attitude now, was even worse back then. The next time we see Simon Stimson is when he walks out from the bar, but he doesn’t say or do anything too strange that tells us more than we know already, and so, skipping that scene we arrive at the graveyard in Act III. In act III we learn that Simon Stimson hung himself in an attic, suggesting that his alcoholism was probably a sort of grief or internal depression that soon sent him spiraling into a quick mess. Despite knowing this, in the graveyard Stimson seems to change, from when before he was a anger-induced alcoholic and now he seems to have a almost softer way of heart and more normal interaction with other characters. The first thing Simon Stimson said is “I am always uncomfortable when they’re around” but he does not say it in a disgusting matter, almost in a nonchalant way. when Mrs. Soames says that life was wonderful, Simon Stimson glances at her and gives a quick comment with “Wonderful, was it?” which could reference his life with alcoholism, but it almost felt a little quiet, like he did not mean it in a condescending or judgmental way, it felt like a simple question, to me at least. When Emily arrives as a dead soul, Simon Stimson is not bitter or sour or weird, he asks “How do you do, Emily.” in a firm manner, but never in a bite or bark. it really is a step up from the suffering and yelling, because now, although a little firm in words, he more or less seems content and reasonable. When Emily comes back from reliving a quick part of a day from the past, Simon Stimson talks about how she now knows about what it was like to be alive and human, to live in ignorance and waste time like you had immortality, and that was the happy existence one wants to go back to, ignorance and blindness. he seems almost a slight cruel with it, but he also seems more dreamful then ever, to have died and then realized, he should have taken that opportunity of life and got better, instead of being so ignorant, so blind to the world around him.

PW#5

This is a perfect timing for me to have a personal writing assignment because i got banned off roblox for 7 days because i was doing karaoke with my friends in Voice chat, but my volume was loud so their audio was going through my mic and that got me banned. it was so sad, because it was super fun singing Infront of a bunch of random people but then my voice chat suddenly got cut off and i couldn’t hear anyone, so we switched to a snapchat call instead. soon enough we went into another game, it was kind of a puzzle game and we were freaking out a little because we were all so confused, and then after some hours i left because i went to bed, but we were basically just singing really old taylor swift songs. today i woke up and, unlike yesterday, where i had to wait only 2 days for my voice chat to come back, i actually got banned for a week from roblox :’).

“The Story of Joseph” PR

This book was good, but as of it not being in modern day words and vocabulary, it was hard to understand what some words meant, meaning when i guided myself on the book, it was hard to find the meaning of a sentence with the poetic kind of manners they speak, because not everyone, like me, has the patience to keep checking the paper for instructions on what certain words mean. it is very hard to keep track of, but other then that the book was good, although i always thought joseph was a little idiotic for telling his brothers, who are already slaves, that he had a dream of them being slaves to him.

IRJE#4

“Tiger Rock” is a book from the “Tales Of The Pizzaplex” series written by Scott Cawthon. The series is a collection of horror stories revolvin around the game ‘Five Nights At Freddys’ which was also made by Scott Cawthon. Within “Tiger Rock” there are 2 other stories, “The Monty Within” and “Bleeding Heart”. This quote is from “Bleeding Heart”.

it looked like a folded little star, it was a off-white and pinkish color. it was in the shape of a daisy. The next bloody shape she found on the ground was a rocket ship, then more. little cutouts of stars, a deer, a hawk, a tiger, a guitar, music notes, smiley faces, and more flowers.

I find this quote interesting because the girl who is talking was the main characters crush. She had an interest in “Skin Art” (tattoos), and so when the boy finds a robot that is made to carve designs to its masters desires, he has an idea. It really shows how sick and twisted and far people would go for love or attention, they crave it so much they think its a need and not a want. The boy orders the robot to tear off his flesh and carve objects out of it.

Enemy of the People (Thoughts)

Enemy of the People is an interesting book, but i have to say it was quite fast paced. The books i usually read are around 200-300 pages, maybe even more, and overall it was kind of boring. The story’s main problem was set around a town issue that could probably have been avoided or altered in several ways. Maybe it is because it’s simply not my type of book, but the thought of such a small political issue (in terms of others) being told as such a big disaster is downright… bad. I mean i have read two sentence horror stories that had a bigger affect and better plotline then this 82 paged book. The old way of speaking was such a hassle to understand and i had to look up the meaning of words over and over again, i also just thought it could have been better structured. I know it is an old book that was also translated from a different language, but i honestly think having a bunch of 14 year old’s read about something they genuinely have a hard time understanding is sort of ridiculous. The open ending was cool and all but the obvious disaster i noticed was when Dr. Stockmann told his kids that he would raise them to be smart and good men, then proceeded to say he would open a school is troublesome, because not only do we know most people in the town hate Dr. Stockmann now, but we also know him, his daughter and friend got fired because of his shenanigans. This raises the question: “how will they make a school if no one has a job to get money to make or even FUND that school???”. I also think the kids should NOT need to follow in Dr.Stockmanns path and do stuff for him, because if he has a problem he should solve it himself, and it’s obvious the boys are nervous about it too. Overall i think this book was unamusing and didn’t make much sense both story wise and just how it is held up. It obviously raises more questions then answers.

PW#4 “Lore”

Lore is a story behind the sights. It can be hidden behind simple things, such as the lore of Human kind. Lore is something I have and always will have a interest in, because there will always be lore in everything, but it’s never specific. You see, lore doesn’t come from “Truth” but the human brain’s personal imagination, in which it is not a belief either, but simply by using all the facts known, create a specific storyline you follow or believe to be true. Lore has and always will be complicated because there is no real truth in it and there never will be.

You see, the thought of Human evolution is lore, but it’s also a religion. From the thought of the first cell, and putting together the pieces to follow up to now and being able to tell that story is the lore of human kind. However, lore can also be religious, just like Christianity, the belief that God had created Adam and Eve, then to follow that story up until today’s date is lore also. Lore can also be in things like TV shows, the story hidden behind the screen. It can also be in video games, which if you know me, I would rant about that with a smile on my face the whole time, talk to me if you want to know about FNaF.

I love looking for Lore, especially in games because even the littlest things can mean something so big. You brighten images and match colors and recognize words that they have said before, such as “Don’t you remember what you saw?” you have to match characters and descriptions together and i think that’s neat. I love talking about theories and lore, it’s generally my favorite thing in the world.

 

 

PW#3 “Autumn”

I fall in the leaves of autumns breeze, with a hat brown and orange tints. Yellow, orange and red make the fire, as I stare into the flames with no heart of yearning. The cackle is warm yet my hands grow cold, I hope one day they can stop moving at all. I look in the mirror and at my form, taking disgust in the way things are seen. Parents’ tell me they’d love me no matter yet I cant help the fear that wells in my brain. With intestines of fabric and veins of glass, my body cant help but fall down today. I’d look across the field if I could, to see myself the way I wanted to be. I’m not dying, I do not want to, I only want to rest. I cannot get up yet, I feel I cant bear to be cold again.

I remember catching ladybugs and watching out my window as a child, I’d be warned of cougars and bears, yet I’d still go out nonetheless. On a mountain top sat our house, we would run down the steep side with snow in our hands, careful not to slip and no fear to trip over ourselves. The sunny day when my dad would take me to Costa Rica to visit my family, I sat on the airplane next to him that time, now I sit at the dining table by myself. I draw and paint, style the clothes and design my hobbies. I sip my tea, the steam is hot next to my eyes, I should blink when tears start falling uncomfortably, but I’m too focused, on the future and never the present.

I do not care what people think, yet I cannot help but cry. I’m told too sensitive and emotional, why am I so emotional? My heart is not made of stone nor flesh like most of the human kind. Very few, like me, have a heart made of leaves. My heart is made of leaves, easy to tear and too delicate to mend back together. I am too delicate so I put them first, never myself. I am too delicate so I pace in my room, thinking about decisions to make next, conversations to begin and exactly how they would play out. I’m too delicate so I don’t eat food with my family. I am too delicate so I only take photos of myself on special events and never on any other day. I’m too delicate so I care what people think. I know time and time again only I can mend my own heart that I, myself tore. I busy my schedule on purpose so I don’t need to pay attention to it, I only mend my heart a little before bed, weaving carefully through the leaves.

I spend the night weaving, and by morning I’m taken to the doctor, I am prescribed medicine for my inability to sleep. Soon it becomes a habit, soon even when I try I cant sleep, soon I need stronger doses, soon I need a strong medication. One day I force myself to not think too much about it, think too much about the medicine I take every morning and every night. I think too much about not talking during meetings, I think too much about asking questions I shouldn’t. I think too much about not going to the doctor again because what if they tell me something i don’t want to know? I think its better to not get a diagnosis, other people can guess it for you. Then one day other people guess things about you, one day those guesses are taken for granted of being true when they are not, one day people don’t need to guess anything about you because it will get to them, but that’s okay, I feel like lying all the time.

sometimes I wonder if I had been smarter, if I had been faster if things would have gone differently, have gone good. No, I have to be pretty, I have to be better, I have to be the best. But I sit here thinking I am not, to deceive myself into believing it, soon enough I stopped crying. Soon enough I got so tired from the buildup of work and the restless nights with no sleep spent trying to mend a heart. I got tired, and I ran out of string. I got tired and I stopped working to earn the money to buy that string. I got tired and now I sit at this empty dining table, chairs too high and legs pushed against the top of the wood. No lights in the house, only blue of a fish tank where such little beings of life swim. I draw, hunched over and stare at the blank piece of paper, sometimes I wonder if I’m as blank as it yet. But i don’t feel sad or upset anymore, for some reason I’m happy. I’m happy and content with this life. I’m happy and content where i am.

IRJE#3 “Enigma”

“Enigma” is a book about two people who are complete opposites to the point where they are alike, the two try to become friends yet over and over again they cannot seem to get along. The two people are so confused by the other because they don’t understand anything about their ways to the point where they keep attracting each other in a means to find out the “truth”. At some point in the end when one is beginning to understand just the outer surface of the other, death comes knocking at their door (the other in question). it shows how even if you begin to understand one layer of a person there will always be another beneath it. i forget who wrote the book i read this a long time ago and didn’t understand half of it but i like to think about this quote often.

But, in the end it could not have been enough. He found himself wondering, could they really had been friends in another universe? Would he have survived in a different world? Admittedly, the boy was an enigma, a confusing entity but so valuable, like the ancient diamonds in museums, guarded by a vault, surrounded by a web of falsehood. In this case, the boy was in no vault, there was no treasure, and no web, because he himself was the embodiment of a lie.

I think this quote is interesting because it really shows how complex human beings can be in a way, like how even people you thought you could begin to understand just have layers and layers of complexity beneath them. it also shows how despite your confusion and dislike for people they can still be valuable in your life, how you never really notice something until its really gone? “embodiment of a lie” shows how no matter what you do, in some way or form you are lying to yourself and others, how you are nothing but a lie. i also think this quote is sweet because its like missing someone who meant something to you, even if you deny it. how either way the memory stays in your mind to linger.

IRJE #2 Lying in the Breeze

“Lying in the Breeze” is about a criminal and a detective who fall in love over time yet neither realize it until its almost too late. One is a charmer and quite the talker, a detective of many cards, both brain and brawn. The other is a poet, calm and collected, a criminal who is able to talk their way out of even the harshest of situations.

He always did love freefalls.

This quote is a very simple one but i think it really captures the feeling of finding something so worth life its more than life itself. This scene was when they first met, and this was from the criminals POV after he saw the detective for the first time, it was more or less feeling a kind of sense of relief, as the criminal thought the infamous detective was going to be a somewhat older person, strict and tense in their gaze. This also was a sense of curiosity because the detective was nothing like the boy imagined, and the way the criminal says he always did love freefalls in interesting because it shows how the idea of a “thrilling” chase or something new does not stress but makes him feel more happy. It’s how only moments later, as the criminal mentions he never let’s himself get selfish, he let’s himself do so only for this one moment, and the whole “freefall” thing gives me the sense he felt like he could let himself go for once, like he didn’t have to worry about consequences for this time, like he felt safe under the arms of the other.

Personal Response #1 “Master and Man”

“Master and Man” by Leo Tolstoy was an interesting book to say the least, the way it reaches within the characters thoughts with just the description of their voice is kind of astonishing, actually. The story actually makes me think about how, against popular opinion, new flourished flowers get trampled on easily, that’s why every leaf and petal of any plant has brown spots, or tears, maybe its wilting too. It goes to show nothing is perfect and if we take that in a sense, you can see Nikita through a new lens, and in truth nothing is perfect, as how Nikita use to be drunkard, but now he’s healing and has become a better person. In a sense you can think of Vasili too, though selfish, at the end of the book he becomes a new flourished flower, only to die or get trampled on easily.

This book made me feel weird, there were a lot of ups and downs, how I felt upset at Vasili for being so mean and cruel but then to feel sorrow at the end after realizing he died when he had a change of soul. Nikita I felt bad most of the time, but when the barn scene came and he was kind of shooshing the dog away I felt a little bit angry at Nikita and bad for the dog, but maybe that’s because i’m just a dog person. At the end I felt kind of upset at Nikita for letting his wife get away with cheating and accepting her apology but then he died and I was a little happy because I realized, at least now everyone is at peace and their souls are free now. I had a lot of weird emotions, but ultimately I was happy with the end.

IRJE #1: Playground

playground; by Aron Beauregard is a novel consisting of 50 chapters. it revolves around a man in his forties named Rock and explores the concepts of violence, mental health, and guilt. Through the testing of a new playground, 8 kids are forced to go through trials of pain. The playground is built with weapons like saw’s and fiber-glass.

Rock considered what came next for Donnie as his eyes twinkled with tears. He didn’t want to see Donnie’s life end that day, but if his childhood was any indication of his future, then the boy would be better off heading outside with the rest of the children. If Caroline was granted full custody of the boy, as it appeared she’d been, then how much worse was the alternative?

I find this quote interesting because though Rock is a somewhat assistant to the murderer, he still feel’s guilt and remorse when he looks at this kid, which is kind of surprising because despite putting Donnie into a literal torture chamber, he doesn’t want him to die. I think that’s interesting because rock himself went through heavy trauma and when you look into it, its somewhat of a “he reminds me of myself” kind of situation. Its where rock see’s himself as the little boy that gets us somewhere, that he feels guilty for sending Donnie out there to die because he see’s it as sending himself out there. also there was a mention on Donnie’s lack of emotion and how that affected Rock about his own lack of emotion, because when you read this paragraph (more so the chapters before it too), you see that Rock feels like he really doesn’t want to send Donnie out there because he’s already really suffering through his childhood, like Rock did himself when he was a kid too, that he feels so bad for witnessing the downfall of Donnie being a kid. And Rock thought of the fact Donnie was already basically dead, a living shell with no emotion whatsoever and despite wanting to save him, Rock realizes that there is no saving him, and then he has to let go of Donnie, not just Donnie but somewhat himself too.

PW#1 Weekend memories

My father has went to Costa Rica, lately I’ve been waking up late. my showers take longer and I’m so much slower. fortunately on the weekend, I got to spend my time with my friend Devin, it was her birthday and we went to butterfly gardens. I got to spend time with my favorite bird, Chili. Chili is a grey feathered parrot whom makes radio-like noises. I took plenty of pictures on my phone of the garden, including some of the bird on peoples arms. they had a flamingo, pretty and pink and tall, of course we could not touch it. after butterfly gardens we went to Mayfair mall and spent money, I got a frog hat and red sunglasses, which is on the lock screen of my phone. we got to eat out and drive while blasting music, it was very fun until I felt the pillow under my head, reminding me its school tomorrow, I will have to wake up like every week day; at 6AM, tired and done. then I will have to push through the classes and have homework, soon enough I am sure I will have no memories of being a kid, just a teenager, waking up everyday for the same heartbreaking routine, doing nothing but trying to survive through the school. I cant really remember the last time I ran through the summer grass.

To Smile

On May 20, 2009, a child was born, and her name was Lola. Born inside of a Christian family, Lola follows the religion Christianity. Although born in a religious family, following of the bible and God, she has never thought anyone to be lower if they follow a different religion—or no religion at all. She likes to draw, a lot, and her best friends consist of three simple people: Helaina, Radmir, and Elyana (who is in her core class). Even though Lola has her best friends, she focuses on school most—at least she tries, for Lola cares about her family too, yes? She’s a little slower than her classmates—she’s very much slower than her classmates. Yet Lola works very hard to keep up, though her stress and anxiety can get in the way, its important to know she needs breaks sometimes, and gets very embarrassed when she is stressed, hence the silence. But it is good to know even through the stress, she tries, and even if not appreciated, at least she did.

Lola loves reading, and as she cuddles and pets her dog, in her dimly lit bedroom consisting of 2 lamps and a broken ceiling light that (somehow) even when repaired still doesn’t work, she smiles. And she smiles that bright eyed smile, the type that makes it seem like sunlight seeps through the cracks of your curtains, even when its not there, even on a rainy day where no said sun is visible. She smiles, she smiles that type of smile that makes you smile, because it looks funny, and that makes you smile more because now you’re laughing. She smiles a smile that crinkles her eyes and downturns her lips even though the happiness is visible. She smiles, because she has looked at her dog and felt happy, that very dog that takes up her entire one-person bed that is higher than her waist and every night she barely gets a drop of sleep due to not moving her dog, for she feels happy when (even though she has school tomorrow) her dog gets to sleep. Lola is happy because her dog is happy, she is simply feeling nice, simply feeling good. And she will get up, and she will throw herself onto her fluffy puppy, who wears brown fur with curls as tight as the locks on Lola’s head, and she will smile, and laugh. She will smile a smile that serves purpose more than a simple grin, she will fluff the fur on her dogs’ head, and kiss her forehead, for she smiles a smile of content and appreciation.

Lola sits, typing on her computer as she thinks of words to include, and she feels fine, completely fine. And she feels bored, completely bored. And then Ms. Bayes walks into the lobby and talks about… random things, and for some reason, she also has plums in her bag. Lola listens in, and waves goodbye, it’s a little funny, because why does she have plums in her purse? But as Lola writes this sheet, she yawns because she simply sits on the word ‘because’…because she can’t think. Lola looks up, in front of her and thinks that maybe, even though her password was changed, can she simply have enough time to upload this? Maybe she will, and certainly with six sentences already she picks up her phone to text her dad, whom is currently in LA, “I love you”. Lola doesn’t mind, having time to herself, but she certainly misses her dad when she scrolls up the text to see a picture of her father, carrying her giraffe which he bought for her the day she was born, Lola doesn’t mind, because its her dad, she loves her dad, and she sighs as she thinks to close the last sentence, then makes her decision.