My Final Blog.....

   All right, so this is going to be my last blog for Mr. Mullins AP SR English class, but maybe I’ll continue to work on this blog every now and then, maybe. Although I think maybe instead of continuing this blog I’ll just start a new blog and make it one where I can write about whatever I want. No, I think I’ll continue this blog. Instead of creating a new blog I’ll just keep this one but I’ll make new posts about whatever it is I want. This way others can still see all the posts I’ve done for Mr. Mullins if they want, because they’re still a part of me even if they are just assignments I did for a grade.

 

   Anyways, I still don’t know how I feel about this year, even if the end is just a couple of weeks away. It’s crazy really. How can the end really be this close? It just leaves me feeling weird. The end of my life basically because this is what my life has been up this point; me getting up, riding the bus, going to class, eating lunch, going to more classes and then riding the bus back home and doing homework. That’s all going to be over now. It’s pretty much over all ready. I just don’t know what’s going to happen and it’s really kind of scary. It’s exciting because I’m finally, finally, going to actually become my own person and take control of my own life. But where does my life go from here? I have no idea. Maybe good things will happen and maybe things will be bad, but I’ll be in charge. I’ll be the one calling the shots, telling myself what to do, not having to listen to anybody else, nobody.  It’ll be great and whatever happens, I’ll be the one who ordains what happens to me. I’m looking forward to it and I hope everyone else is too. Ugh, I just feel like this is madness…..
 

These books be getting very deep O_o (My very academically worded title)

   So lets say you're this weird kid. You're a weirdo and not just any weirdo. You're one of those really nerdish weirdos, the one who spends all day reading comic books, playing videogames and basically having no social life whatsoever because you're so weird and you have no friends. Except for one. You're best friend. Your one and only friend who's an outcast like you and she's a weirdo like you who likes to read comics and play videogames and you two couldn't be closer. But then one day you notice something different about her. All the guys notice something different about her. She's different. Suddenly she's not that homely quiet girl that nobody pays attention to. She's suddenly gorgeous and everybody notices. Everybody.

   You two would always sit on the bus together. Always. But today your older brother takes your best friend by the hand and says 'Hey, why don't you come and sit with me? I've got something I want to tell you.' She reluctanoutly agrees and tells you to save her seat and you say 'Of course.' So she goes to sit with him and you wait for her to come back. But about five minutes later you turn around and your heart drops and shatters into a million pieces. Because your best friend is sitting in your older brothers lap. They're making out and he's got his hand up her shirt and you just can't believe at all what is happening. You don't want to believe. When you all get off the bus she doesn't even bother to look at you. She goes off with your brother and you want to follow but you're afraid of what might happen. You're suddenly lost and confused. You just don't know at all what to feel.

   You're all alone again. You're 'best friend' never ever seems to want to hang out with you anymore. She's always with you're brother. They're always making out and they always act like you're not even there. The only time she ever even talks to you is when your brother is at work. She waits at your house for him to get back and while she waits she talks to you as if nothing at all has changed. It's like old times again. But only for a while. As soon as your brother gets back she completely forgets about you. Whether you guys are reading a comic or playing a videogame it doesn't matter. She drops everything and runs into his arms saying 'I missed you!' and your brother simply shrugs and says 'whatever' before pressing his face to her face and leading her to the bedroom that you and him share. And then again you're all alone. With nothing at all to do but read comic books, smoke weed and let your bathroom sink fill with more and more blood.

   Is this a life? Why is it that you continue? Maybe there's a reason and maybe there's not. Maybe things will get better and maybe they won't. Maybe your mother will finally love you and maybe your father will finally come back and maybe this time he'll love you too. Maybe you'll finally have a sense of purpose, of happiness, a sense of having a life worth living. And maybe you won't. But you won't give up hope. You won't give into the darkness. You won't give into despair or into your never ending pain. You won't. You won't. You won't.

   You won't.

                                                                                  .....

   This is what I would call, I guess, my interpretation of what happens in the book This Is How You Lose Her by Junot Diaz, who is a fantastic author! It's actually kind of hard to explain exactly what the book is because it is a collection of multiple stories, what I wrote above is only one of these stories, but they all in some way interconnect as if it were one larger story with multiple sub-stories. It's really cool and amazingly written and you really get into all of the stories and you truly feel empathy and sympathy for all of the character. I really wanted to just dive into the book and give the characters a hug and be like 'It's all going to be okay. I'm here for you.' That's an amazing quality for a book to be able to do that so I recommend that everyone in the world read this book because it's just so great!

My Poetry Research

   So I wasn't really looking forward to this group project, because it's a project and those tend to not be fun, but I've actually enjoyed being semi-forced to research all of these modern British poets that I had never really read before.  I've always tended to stay away from poetry that was about things like war and politics, but I've found that lots of these war poems are actually pretty good and that I really get into their all them.
   I really like the poets that I've found, especially the poets Siegfried Sassoon, Aleister Crowley, and William Noel Hodgson. Their poems are all really-really good! Their poems are deep and emotional and they speak the truth that comes straight from the heart. Their poetry is powerful because it comes from their personal experiences. Their poetry comes from what they've seen and what they've learned and what they feel. Some of their poem are worded simply, while other use really fancy words and phrases, but they're all written really skillfully and they all have a really good rhythm and beat that pull you along as you get deeper and deeper.
   I think the poem that I've found that I like the most is this one right here by Siegfried Sassoon. Every time I read it I go '...man that's deep........'

Before Action

By all the glories of the day
And the cool evening's benison
By that last sunset touch that lay
Upon the hills when day was done,
By beauty lavishly outpoured
And blessings carelessly received,
By all the days that I have lived
Make me a soldier, Lord.

By all of all man's hopes and fears
And all the wonders poets sing,
The laughter of unclouded years,
And every sad and lovely thing;
By the romantic ages stored
With high endeavour that was his,
By all his mad catastrophes
Make me a man, O Lord.

I, that on my familiar hill
Saw with uncomprehending eyes
A hundred of thy sunsets spill
Their fresh and sanguine sacrifice,
Ere the sun swings his noonday sword
Must say good-bye to all of this; -
By all delights that I shall miss,
Help me to die, O Lord.

Senior Year

   Senior year has been by far the strangest year of school I've ever had. I feel so many conflicting emotions over it, I don't know at all how to describe it.
   In one sense, Senior year has been a really really boring year. I've really hated all of my classes. I'm just so fed up with school. I'm tired of the work which seems really pointless and repetitive at this point and which I have no desire or motivation to do at all. Really I have no idea how I'm passing any of my classes. AP English is literally, and I mean literally in the actual meaning of the word, class that I don't sleep in. I'm really barely trying anymore. I've held up to this point so I think that's somewhat of an achievement seeing as though so many other people seemed to stop caring and trying months ago but now I'm just like "Ugh...Be over all ready!!!"
   On the other hand, Senior year has been really fun. I've gotten to hang out with all of my friends and have a really great time doing whatever. I've gotten to have lots of great experiences like having a booth at the Downtown Latino Festival, win at the STLP Regional Competition and compete at the State level, go to 2 fancy dinners at fancy restaurants for free with my friends because we were invited by some important community leaders who were impressed with the work we had been doing in our LOL club, and lots of other awesome things. I've had a great time this year despite the boredom of classes.
   Senior year also seems to have been one of my easiest years. Except for AP English, all of my classes have been impossibly easy and I haven't had any homework in any of them all year, except for AP English which has a lot of homework (thank you Mr. Mullins), but still overall it's been pretty easy.
   But despite the easiness it's been very stressful. I haven't ever experienced as much stress as I have this year, researching colleges, deciding which ones I wanted to go to, applying, waiting to see if I got accepted, applying for stack upon stack of scholarships, writing essay after essay after essay. It's all been very stressful and I'll be glad when this year is finally over.
   At the same time, I think the end of Senior year will also be a little sad. The people I've spent the past 18 years of my life with will all finally be going their separate ways. Some will go to other states and even other countries, while others will stay here in Kentucky but be going to different colleges miles and miles apart. It's all very sad and I'll be sorry when I won't be able to see so many of my friends again for probably a very long time, if I ever even get to see them again at all, but in the end it won't be to very sad. I'll still be able to see lots of my friends and the ones who I won't be able to see I can at least still talk to on the phone and on Facebook.
   Finally finishing the public education system will be a great achievement and it'll be a fantastic experience. I'm finally going to be able to take control of my own life, to a higher degree then now at least, and I'll be able to start actually making something of myself and figure out where my life is going to take me. I really can't wait!

I Say a Little More About Poetry

   So far I've been enjoying the poetry unit, because I love poetry. I've read a lot of nice poems like 'A Dream Within a Dream,' 'Still I Rise,' and 'As Soon as Fred Gets Out of Bed.' I've read a lot more poems since this unit began but those are the ones I chose to do my poetry analysis' over. The poems I tend to like the most are those dealing with subjects like the different meanings of love, enjoying life and all it has to offer, and questioning who you are and what is your purpose. I also like silly poems that are both simple and witty and make you smile and make you laugh. I just overall really like poetry. Even when I find that I don't really love or even like a poem, I still appreciate what it's saying and the insight it has to offer, because even though it doesn't really make me feel anything special, I know that it does to others because the quality of a good poem is in the eye of the beholder.
   On another note, I'm getting annoyed at having to write a poetry analysis pretty much every single day. I'm finding it hard to keep up with all of them. I love poetry but I can't come up with an entire page of analysis for every single poem that I read. Poetry has to speak to me and inspire me. I don't want to just make up some crazy nonsense in order to satisfy a teachers requirements, sorry Mr. Mullins, because it lessens the value of the authors hard work and the value of what I personally feel towards the poem. I only want to write what the poem means to me and I can't force myself to get anymore out of it then what it gives me. Again, I blame a flawed educational system for trying to shape everyone into fitting there sad generic mold.

Poetry and Music

   Since we're on the subject of poetry in this class, I'd like to talk about the similarities between a good poem and a good song.
   I've always found music in poetry and poetry in music, because they share many of the same great qualities; A rhythm, a beat, emotion and creativity. I love both of them because of the way they make me feel. Every song on my iPod gives me some kind of emotional feeling and I usually get overpowered by the music and I start singing and tapping along, even in public, so don't think I've gone insane if you see me walking down the halls swinging my hands, bobbing my head and moving my lips in silence. Anyways, within all of my music I tend to notice that at least one, or all, of the lyrics sound to me to be poetry.Take these lines from one of my favorite songs-

   Time is a valuable thing

   Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings
   Watch it count down to the end of the day
   The clock ticks life away
         -In the End, Linkin Park

   Do these lines not evoke a sense of poetry? I don't know about you, but I certainly think so. The rhythm, the rhyme, the metaphor of time, it's all poetry, just placed side by time with the singing of instruments. And I feel that poetry works in just the same way. When I read a poem that I really like, it's because it speaks to me with emotion and passion and music playing in my mind. I feel its rhythm, its beat and the truth lying on the surface and buried deep within.
   My belief is that poetry and music make us Feel and that's what makes them so wonderful.

And So Begins My Rant...

   I really love poetry, so I was looking forward to this unit, but now I'm not so sure that I'll like it. We're going to be learning how to study and analyze poems, and honestly I've always believed this to be a terrible idea. Poetry is not something that you sit together in class and learn about with a teacher. Poetry is something that you feel when you read it and when you write it. I don't like the idea of sitting there, being given a poem to read, and told to analyze it, to look for literary devices and purpose and audience, etc. You can't do this with poetry. If someone is to learn about and appreciate poetry, then they need to come to it on their own. People need to experience the desire to read poetry, they need to be in the right mood and feel the right emotions. They need to love it, not read it because the teacher forces them too.

   I also find this to be true about being assigned books to read in class. I love to read, but I hate when we are given a really good book to read in class and forced to do worksheets and essays and analyze it according to the educational systems standards. It honestly ruins the book for me and I think a lot of people feel this way. When I read a book on my own, I don't stop every five minutes to answer questions on a worksheet or write down important quotes that I may need to use later when I'm writing an essay, but I do analyze it in my mind. I study the author's technique, interpret their meaning, appreciate the way they worded something or how they used a symbol in such a great way, but I don't write it down in a 3-page-five-paragraph essay with a theme statement and claims and blah blah blah. I read books and poetry because I want to love them and study them and appreciate them. They make my life better and I hate how the educational system destroys them for me. Thus ends my rant...

Some Poetry for You

   Since Litmag was brought up today in class, I decided to share one of the poems I have submitted to it. I actually wrote this last year, but I wasn't able to submit it because I had written it after Litmag had already been published. I don't know why or how it came to me, but I've always felt that's the best kind of writing. When you have really no reason for writing, no assignment no due date, and you simply write it because it came to you. I think that's the essence of a great piece of writing because you are not writing it for any ones approval or recognition. You simply write it because it's what you feel you need to say. It's pure and it's real and it's you.

The Courage Hidden in a Leaf   

Summertime,

It hung there waving,

Green lost among green,

Indifferent to the world around it,

Simply enjoying the occasional breeze.

Then fall came,

It hung there frightened,

Brown and orange, sick and dying,

All around, his brothers falling,

But he’ll not go,

He’ll not be taken.

Winter fell,

A cold, harsh white,

Unforgiving, truly cruel,

A single leaf, on a withered tree,

Frozen over, battle lost,

A simple breeze and down he goes.

Spring arose,

For winters end,

The harsh white gone in a burst of color,

Plants re-grow and flowers bloom,

And on a tiny twig,

A hero is reborn.  

Bad Handwriting

   So I think my one and only true and biggest problem in English class has always been my incredibly terrible hand writing. It doesn't just apply to English class, but I think it's the worst in English because we have to write so frequently and in large amounts. I still have no idea how I have managed to make it to the 12th grade and be thought of as 'smart' when I have such unintelligible hand writing. Obviously my teachers have always had incredibly great perception skills. That or they have no idea what there looking at so to save themselves the trouble of deciphering it they just give me a good grade. I just don't know. Despite this I have never really bothered to improve my hand writing skills. It takes to much effort and time for me to try to write everything legible. The way I normally write is fast and fluid. My letters flow kind of like cursive letters but there regular letters and I can read it fine about 98% of the time. Besides, in today's world, and seeing as though I plan on going into some sort of programming career, I will be doing most of my writing on computers. I don't really see many things I will be having to write by hand except for maybe filling out a survey or something. With most job applications and other important documents I'll have to make, I'll more than likely have the option to type them up so that works for me. Overall, improving my hand writing skills is pretty low on my list of things to accomplish in life.

So much Stress!!!

   So it's been a semester of lots of hard and grueling work and now this semester is seeming even harder and more grueling. I have pretty much had no social life since we started reading Beloved. It's a good book and I really wish that we didn't have to do all these reading journals, which I am up to my neck in. I've always hated having to do activities like this while reading a good book. It takes the enjoyment out of it because your constantly having to tear yourself away from the book to write down your thoughts and whatnot. It's really annoying and it's cutting into my ME time! I hope Mullins doesn't give us so much work with whatever our next book is going to be. I know everyone in class would really appreciate it. Actually as I type this I realize I've forgotten all about getting my 2nd book for the inquiry project! I've been to busy with Beloved and on top of that I have work form other classes too! These last few couple of weeks have been very stressful and I hope the rest of the semester goes smoother. I'd like to possibly relax and have some fun during my last few weeks of my public education.

First Impression of Beloved

   I have mixed feelings about Beloved. I don't really like the author's writing style because it is difficult to understand and one must read a section slowly and multiple times in order to fully grasp, or at least semi-grasp, it's meaning. After reading through a section I would have to go back and try to analyze what it was that I had just read and how it tied into the overall story. It's also really sad and a little morbid. This family has been through so much and I feel lots of pity for them. But that's what makes me kind of like it. Beloved has a pretty nice story despite its complexity. The characters are interesting and their dark and sullen past is what makes reading about them intriguing. The supernatural element is also a nice touch adding some exciting fantasy that makes me want to keep reading to find out exactly what is going on. Going back to the interesting characters, I like how a major part of the book seems to revolve around the characters remembering and rediscovering their pasts, which they try so hard to forget. It makes it interesting to find out a characters past bit by bit and slowly piece their story together and how their pasts seem to correlate with the other character's pasts. I am ever so slowly forming a story out of the book, it's kind of like a jigsaw puzzle where we are given a mesh of pieces and we must slowly put them where they belong. So over all, I think I am liking, but not loving, Beloved.

The end of The Road

   So I kind of liked the ending of the book but at the same time I didn't. The parts I liked was the symbolism and meaning put into those last few pages. It shows how the boy has changed from who he was a the beginning of the book. He's become more of his own person, with his own interpretations of the world and his own will to survive. I also like how the boy and the man seem to switch roles at the end. All along the man has been completely taking care of the boy who he sees as a god-like creature whom he must protect with his life, but at the end of the book, with the man's disease finally taking hold, the boy assumes the role of care giver, if only for a short time. The boy then holds vigil and tries to protect him when he hears someone, the veteran, approaching. Later the boy reveals that he'd rather talk to his father than talk to God, so it seems that now it is the boy who reveres his father as a god like creature, one who took car of him and showed him how to keep the will to live. I also notice that after the father's death, the book doesn't reveal to the boy as 'the boy' anymore, but instead as 'He', where once the man was referred to as 'He.' This is another way in which McCarthy hints at their role reversal.

   What I didn't like about the ending is mostly my own personal feelings. I just thought it was a little to coincidental that so soon after his father's death, the boy would find 'good people' to be his new family. I just find it hard to accept. I feel it was supposed to be symbolic of a hopeful future, but I still think it was to much. I would have preferred the boy going out on his own, seeing how he had grown up so much during the journey's course. It still would've been hopeful because of his good nature. The reader would feel hope for the future thinking that there is one good person who is making it in this devastated world and  is still managing to keep such altruistic morals and if there is one, then there must surely be others out there.

The World is Dead- Found Poetry

   So here is my found poetry that I wrote in class:

The World is Dead

A little boy

Flickering

In the cold bleak depths

Of a dead black void

Sightless white eyes

With nothing to see

There is no light

There is no morning

A dimension without light

A dimension of night

A blacktop of a world

A darkness dripping darkness

Little boy face the truth

The world is dead

   I really liked this activity, because I love poetry. I got into my poetical state of mind and after skimming my words from the quotes I had collected I knew that I would write a poem about darkness and hopelessness because pretty much every word I found involved either one or both of those so I knew my poem would easily come to me. That's usually how I get when ever I do writing of any sort. I stop and think about what it is that I am going to write then, slowly the vision comes to me and I begin to write what I feel. This is why I am not good at writing research papers or times writings; I'm not given the time or the opportunity to be as creative or emotionally invested as I would like to be. I much rather prefer writing poems and short stories. I really hope we do more activities like this in class. 

The Road so far

   So far I am liking The Road pretty well. At times it can be a little slow paced but within the slowness is a very nicely crafted story. Every sentence and every word seems to have some kind of deep profound meaning and nothing is just there to fill space. I really like McCormac's writing style because of its fluidity and poetic feel. Not every sentence, but lots of them, seem like poetry with their feeling and emotion. I especially love the passage-

   What would you do if I died?
   If you died I would want to die too.
   So you could be with me?
   Yes. So I could be with you.
              -(Pg. 11)
  
   These few lines, to me, have so much passion and emotion and most of all they have so much reality. It sounds like lines from a beautiful poem. It makes me feel more than anything else I have ever read in any book. The words are simple but they speak with great depth and such emotion that anyone who reads this must be able to relate in some way and need to pause to think about who they love and who they would die for.  That's what I did when I read this and I will always remember this simple conversation because it captures exactly how I feel when I think about the people I love.

   I like post apocalyptic tales like The Book of Eli and A Crack in the Sky where we read about what might be a possible future for the human race. I think they are really cool and interesting because it shows humans striving to rise above their limits and find a way to keep themselves alive. These things are fun to read about because I don't really have the opportunity to experience these apocalyptic worlds first hand. All other post apocalyptic books I have read have had hope at the heart of them, but The Road is pretty cool because it turns away from that and simply has bleak and bleary, with little to no hope of salvation in it. It is real somber and kind of depressing but again, it gives a sense of experiencing what I may never have the opportunity to actually experience so it is a cool thing to read.