Tales of Tenth Grade

Lord of the Flies strongly emphasizes the theme idea that all of mankind is inherently savage and that the fine line between good and evil is a permeable one. I decided to write a poem portraying a similar theme with the ideas of good vs. evil and how our roles in life and along that spectrum are never set in stone. So without further ado:  When an angel spreads its wings it makes a promise To be faithful, to be truthful, to be kind The halo upon its holy head  marks patience, virtue- heavenly wed no wrongdoing ever to be uttered The demon, horned, with pitchfork knows his role To be hateful, to be evil, to be cruel He sits atop his throne of glass  Sharp edges cut to painful pasts A sinful smile curled upon his lips The line’s been drawn we say its made of stone An impenetrable fortress to divide us Each soul with an important part Together: a fine work of art To maintain the war between the good and bad When the sun rises an angel sha...

This questionable short story is a product of about three existential crises and an ungodly amount of green tea… I also, rather unfortunately, appear to have lost any semblance of creativity lately, so you must excuse whatever mess of words follows this (but please enjoy nonetheless).   It was designed to withstand the tests of time. Harsh, barren; yet not unforgiving. Life teemed within the tundras sheathed in snow, the shrubbery clothed in white powder, the craggy mountains cloaked in the essence of stars. The land radiated a coldness which belied the life within, for sheltered in its rocky heart it cradled the tentative warmth of life. Naught but the wild, the untamed could thrive here, living by the unhindered glow of coruscating stars.  It was a land of hushed beauty, a land of boundless hopes and wild dreams and untamed mystery. Hesitant hues of sparkling snow and glistening ice scattered across its frigid expanse, setting the land awash in shy...

          This month's blog topic is current events.  But how am I supposed to find a "unique" current event when every news headline has to do with the CO-VID 19?  It seems that we are witnessing a global pandemic , a status just recently granted to the virus by WHO, and everything in our world seems to revolve around the devastation (potential and physical) that can or will be caused by this virus.  The stock market is at its lowest point since 1987 , global and domestic sports events are canceled , schools are shutting down  and cleaned, and travel bans to many European and Asian countries have been put in place.  In the midst of all this panic, I've been thinking a lot about all the epidemic movies I've grown up on, how Coronavirus is different or the same from the Hollywood adaptation of such events.  Without further ado, I present an abstract piece I call "White" (the color, not my last name), which is a reflection on the iso...

So this month's topic is 'something important to you,' and, as many of you may have guessed, the topic I chose to write about is writing . (I know, I know, I'm so unpredictable.) By the way, shout-out to Mia Jardine, whose birthday is today (January 10th), and who is also very important to me. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- To Compose I am infected with an affliction Contaminating mind and heart and soul One curious, withering addiction That both consumed my life, yet made it whole I have discovered the love of my life The one passion that sets my soul alight Spawning incurable joy, acute strife, From many a sleepless yet fruitful night I am yet faded, but always renewed By this romance that clouds my consciousness Sweet lines in verse, is all it takes to woo And steal from me all guise of cognizance My love: jet black ink on paper pure white I would be nothing if I could not write. ...

Yes, this is another short story/creative writing piece. No, I'm not sorry. (Are you tired of them yet?) So, you may be wondering how this relates to something we've done in class. (I was too, initially.) Well, our first unit was on structure so I experimented with the structure of this story, isolating certain lines for emphasis/effect (and whatnot). Hope you enjoy the story! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Motels and Emancipation           Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.           The soft plunk of water droplets sliding in through the crack in the roof plopped noisily into a tin can.           Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.           The drips coincided with the loud analog clock mounted on the wall to his left. He couldn’t help but crack a smile. He was right, time and mother ...

Purple            I was always called "different" as a child.  No one could understand why I was the way I was, so they titled me.  I never liked fairies or sparkles like the other girls, no.  I know it's 2019 and people are more progressive, but I feel as if I grew up in what was last "traditionalist" generation.  Everyone dressed their little girls in pink and their little boys in blue.  That was the way it was.  I grew up in purple, my own special combination of both gender norms.             When we went to Disney for the first time that I remembered, I was around three or four.  We did not go for the princesses, but rather the pirates.  You see, I had an obsession with Pirates of the Caribbean , a trait that has carried through my infancy and into my young adulthood.  I wanted to be  Jack Sparrow.  I didn't ever see myself wearing a dress, but I definitely could ...

It should have been home to none. The land had nothing to offer, nothing to give. It is here the days blend into weeks, blur into months, bleed into years until time ceases to have meaning, ceases to exist. Naught but the fever trees and marulas and aptly named whistling thorns may grow, albeit sparsely, their scrawny sun- darkened limbs hesitantly reaching to greet the eternal dawn. It is in this place the sand has long ago molded into a solid mass, and unforgiving and harsh it yields to none. Cracks run across its expanse, crumbling bits of sand into motes to be spun around by the fury of the wind.  Inhospitable. Here the days give rise to nothing but half-hearted winds and temperatures so sweltering they render the already harsh land all but uninhabitable. The nights offer little reprieve, the cloak of darkness masking all former signs of warmth a little too well, drawing the land into a frigid embrace. Water is even scarcer than the starved trees here, a ...

      BANG! An innocent turkey has just been killed. That turkey was just standing around doing nothing when it got shot(just like every year). There's a turkey on our plates once a year. A few days after getting shot, it's going to be in our stomachs. Every year there are mashed potatoes and gravy with that unfortunate turkey. Stuffing is present, sometimes boxed stuffing or sometimes homemade stuffing stuffed inside that turkey. The turkey is surrounded by hot steaming vegetables. as well. From one plate to another, pieces of turkey is resting on it and then rapidly consumed into our stomach. One house by house. One town by town. One state by state. Thanksgiving is all about food in most homes. Every year, the men of the house can't wait to weigh 200 something pounds one day and 300 something pounds the very next day.        We all greet the family with the same expression. "Happy Thanksgiving." We all then ask, "How long until the turkey is finishe...

JPM100 P2. I am sure that that assortment of letters and numbers means absolutely nothing to you, and they shouldn't. It's completely foreign to you, and that's fine. However, it isn't foreign to me. This phrase, JPM100 P2 represents something that means a lot to me. It provides me with entertainment and with a challenge and with joy. This phrase represents something that you probably wouldn't be thinking of; it is a guitar model. This phrase represents the Ibanez John Petrucci Signature model, and it is the guitar that I have. The guitar isn't actually mine, it's my dad's. He purchased it in 1997 and he used to use it a lot. But he doesn't have as much time on his hands now, so I use it a lot, and it is really fun. Let me just get something straight first of all; I'm not really that good. If you asked me to play 99% of songs or riffs that existed, there is a pretty good chance that I couldn't. It could be because I don't have th...

230 years ago, our Constitution was formally put into effect establishing the modern-day apparatus of the U.S. government. 230 years ago, the apparatus of our government became controlled by two factions accompanied by coteries of American people. 230 years ago, our government and people became manacled by perpetual division. That perpetual division has yet to be thinned into compromise and unity in almost every political, social, moral, and ethnic aspect of American life. Each generation comes and goes and only allows the aforementioned division to prolong in our lives. Ask yourselves, will our generation be the one to initiate change or keep perpetuating the division that only multiplies with more and more revulsion, contempt, and animosity among the people of America. Our founding fathers did not create this division via the Constitution, we the people made what it is today; a platform of division that carries revulsion, animosity, and contempt between sides. Our nation has b...

You wake up on an ordinary July morning in 2012. The breeze brushes your hair back as your eyes slowly open. You take in the warm sunlight, shining through your window. Before doing anything, you run into the living room to see iCarly playing on your large TV. Your mom serves you a small bowl of Cheerios with a welcoming "Good morning".  As soon as your favorite show ends, your mom hands over your pair of light-up sketchers, bedazzled with glitter and rainbows. You both walk out of the house and walk to your local park. Your ponytail sways from side to side as you watch each car drive past, nothing ran through your mind, not a care in the world. That was a different time. This is now... You awake. This time it's a school morning. your phone sounds it's alarm. You wake instantly by the blaring, repetitive noises. In your dark room, you shelter yourself under the covers wishing for just a little more time to sleep. After fighting yourself out of bed, you wash the tire...