I look outside my window and I see a collection of trees; no not trees, a collection of memories. I see everything I love and everything I ever want to be. Sure, they’re just trees to some, but to me, they are like family. They bring back the feeling of summer, the crisp air of autumn, the excitement of the first snowfall, and the fresh reminders of spring. Trees grow with you, they sway as you do. They hold all my secrets and wishes, my hopes and my dreams. They remind me of home. The tree that is my deepest secret keeper and dearest friend is the leafy beech. This tree grew up with me, we grew up together. My dad planted it before I was born and as I grew, so did it. It’s the memories of building forts under its coveted shade with my sister and the laughs that are carried away by the wind. It’s feeling the branches creak as I climb to the sky with my soccer cleats still on after practice. The beech tree is the pretty one.
We’ve all heard the classic saying “One person’s trash is another person’s treasure,” but what makes something trash or treasure? What makes someone categorize it as trash? Is it because it's “useless” or maybe it’s because it's worn out? Does it not fit anymore or because the newness wore off? It’s not your style or it was a bad gift. It’s old and worn and a different color than it was when it was new. Spring cleaning is here, it's been collecting dust and it's time for a refresh. What about treasure? Maybe because it's shiny or the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen? It’s something new to you. It’s a perfect fit or the best color? It may look loved or fresh out of the box, a new adventure.
I know we have had a bad start to the 2020 sentry There has been wildfires, hurricanes, and Covid 19 spreading around the whole earth We have also filled the oceans with trash and filling the air with smoke And sometimes we wished we didn’t do that stuff And we also wish that things will get better So we got to hope that things will get better We need to hope that things will change And we got to hope that this won’t happen again But we don’t know if are hopes will happen We don’t know if things will get better So we gotta work together and make different We got to change things So are hopes can happen So we can change the mistakes that have happened Some people might have already given up But to the ones who haven’t given up Please don’t or your letting down the people who have been supporting you your whole life Who have been with you when things were hard So please don’t lose hope
Everyone should be treated equal It doesn’t matter if your a girl, boy, non-binary, or even trans gender It shouldn’t matter It doesn’t matter if your straight or part of the LGBTQ+ It shouldn’t matter It doesn’t matter if your skin is white or black It shouldn’t matter It doesn’t matter if your rich or poor It shouldn’t matter These things shouldn’t matter when you look at someone Everyone should be treated equal Everyone should be loved and supported Everyone should feel like they matter just like everyone else...
China is laughing at the United States, some "united" states we are, Now how the blocky tables turn, round and round like ambulance wheels. The bane of democracy is simply democracy itself, Are we too free in liberty? Illusions, they swarm in naivety,
I see rioters, first walking into barred cages, then breaking their own bones with their own bones, and plunging daggers into their own hearts, Have we become so free, that those in communist prisons, Have the justification to ridicule us? Justified indeed, to mock our plight.
This nation teeters at the edge of a knife, stray little more and it will fail, To the destruction of only ourselves, and to the entertainment of all else. We are not infallible, we also have our flaws. But-
Nevertheless we are a democracy, and we still have laws.
“Home is where the heart is.” I’ve been told this more times than I can count, but what does it mean? Sure, where I live is my home. I sleep here, eat here, I do everything here. But my heart lies somewhere else. It lies in the beaches off the east coast, in the tallest building in the biggest city, and within the mossy forests. I find my home to be all over the world. Whether it be within my imagination or somewhere that’s walking distance from me, it is where my heart lies. Maybe someday my heart will find the one place that I will truly call home, but as for now, home for me is everywhere, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.
I think that the events that occured at congress were terrible. To think that we might have been a symbol of democracy and peace is laughable right now. Not only have protesters stromed the capitol, something that hasn't been done sine 1814 when it was burned by the british (and what a comparison is that), peaceful protesters of racial injustice that were already protesting were pelted with rubber bullets and gassed with tear gas.
There is no better way to describe what I'm thinking about as disgust. There is simply no other way to describe it. These people are disrupting the very flow of democracy and are being absolutely crazy in the way that they are demmanding things of our government. This isn't the America that I though that we were when I went to the capitol 6 years ago. I beleived that our government was like no other, and I guess that is true, just not in the right way.
Lately, it feels like time has left me behind. A finals week apparently doesn't feel like finals without the exchange of small gifts and warm words between stressed teenagers, and Christmas doesn't feel Christmas-y without the being a tad more than fashionably late to an obligatory family get together at Mà's house where we smile and get presents that will be returned the next week.
This winter break, like the majority of the year, has been different. Not necessarily good different or bad different but like many things, a healthy mixture of both. I can't hate 2020, and I won't hate 2020. Because, though bitter, quarantine gave me YWP. It gave me a better sense of self, and it gave me many realizations that, though many led to more journeys than actual ends, was more satisfying than anything I had found before.
Blue. When someone says blue, most people think of a blue sky or blue water. When asked to zoom in and describe the color blue, it gets hard. Blue is like the sky or the water, some say it represents freedom, intuition, or a feeling of calm. Although it may sound odd, blue can mean something different to everybody. Blue makes some people feel relaxed or soothed. For others, it makes them think of their trips to the beach in the summer. It might remind them of the painting ‘The Starry Night’ by Van Gough. Others may be more clinical, they think of blue as a primary color, the color that can be used to make every other color. They can see color as light, wavelengths, and the science of the eye. Others are even more rigid, knowing that technically there is no real color, it’s just a product of society to make sense of the world. Whatever it may be, it changes for every person. How do we even know that we all see the same color blue?
What do I like about life, you ask? Well, it is life itself. Knowing how complicated the universe is makes me appreciate life. The Bermuda Triangle is one of the most complicated mysteries ever and it intrigues me to find out what it hides beneath the waves. I wonder what would happen if a submarine was sent into it, and would it be able to enter. I am also interested in how the dinosaurs went extinct. All of these strange mysteries are ones that I intend to find out the truth about.
Another mystery that I am interested in is the Titanic. It was a huge ship that sank. Most people say that it sunk for no reason at all. I think it could have had something to do with the Bermuda triangle. It could also have possibly sank from hitting an iceberg.
Yes, everyone is so quick to point out that life is different now, what we used to do rather than what we do now. It seems that most things are past tense, things we miss, what we wish we could do, and what has changed. But this time is still essential. “That it will never come again is what makes life so sweet” (Emily Dickinson). That is what makes time so valuable, the fact that it is never relived, repeated. We are living in a historical time, people will look back on today, yesterday, and tomorrow and study this for years to come. They will ask us questions like, what was it like? And were you scared? They will teach this in history classes and science classes. We are a part of history. Whether we like it or not, this is something to remember. I’m not saying everything going on right now is the best, but we need to continue to pick the best things out.
I usully get to scool around the first bel and find my seet in American Clas. I stay ther for an hour and a haf. Aftr that most of my clases hav to do with math. Then I go to Math of Sports and lern statistics but al about sports teams, playrs, and games. Aftr that is fisics with fricton, velocity, aceleration, grafs, and mor. Finaly, I end my day with Algebra II. In the fal my favorit part of scool is playing socr aftr scool.
Many times, I have taken a look out of my living room window. Just a simple glance. And what I keep seeing, keep watching, is the snow. The white spots of winter, of cold, that dot the sky. I will watch them in awe and go to sleep that night with happy thoughts, marvelous thoughts. But then the next morning, as I jump off my bed and race to the glass, watching my breath fog up in front of me, I see no white, I see no crystals of ice. Instead, I see dull grass, with leaves of brown scattered around. It isn't that the world around me is dull, it is simply that I love the white, I love the cold, the coziness of a blanket wrapped around me, the tastiness of the cocoa on my tongue. But I see no snow. I see no ice. And it is now December, the month of snow, of cheers, of songs,
Remote learning or at school learning? I have done both, even a hybrid. Covid-19 has caused some interesting adaptations to normal life. But in my opinion, being at school is better and I’ll tell you why. There are many factors, who you're at school with, how much work you have, and how important the work is.
First, who you’re at school with people you don't get along with, don't know, or don't like that can be super annoying and boring. So you would probably prefer staying at home if you are in class with people you don't like. On the other hand though, if you’re at school with your friends and people you like you will have a much better time at school then at home. So It is really dependent on the people in your class, especially for our generation, most of us are very social.
Although it may be cliché, during this time of year is when most, including myself, reflect on what they are grateful for. Yes, what I’m grateful for may sound like the generic commercials and blanket statements made by some just to avoid the real reflection, but so what. I’m saying that I am grateful for my family because it's true. I’m not picking the first thing that pops into my head, or the easiest answer to explain, I am choosing the truth. But I am not one to hastily answer and move on, I am one to think, ponder, review, and scrutinize every piece of information. I will give it to you straight. I am thankful for my family because of their love, positivity, and determination. I am grateful for the way my parents push me to be my best and the way my sister gives me laughs along the way. I am grateful for my family’s support, encouragement, and excitement they bring to everything I do. I am thankful that there is never a dull moment with my family.
I admit, I’m not a political person. I never watch CNN or Fox News, and I’m not ashamed to say, I didn’t know the difference between Democrat and Republican until fourth grade.
But I know right from wrong, good from bad, compassion from cruelty, peace from chaos, unity from division. My parents taught me those. I thought all parents taught their children those.
Then why, when I go on the media, do I only see ugly words distorted from anger. Manipulation spinning threads around and around. Chaos, not creative chaos, destructive chaos, meant to mince you down, shred you until there’s nothing left for the vultures. Ire and rage, hate and disdain, mockery and ridicule.
“Trump got Covid!” a comment snarls, “I hope he goes to hell!” “Biden’s stupid!” another comment growls, “Go back to whatever basement you crawled out of!”
My fabric would capture me. It would be filled with love, intertwined with adventure and euphoria. The braids and weaves of hope. I would capture the feeling of the sun gently rocking you awake in the morning. The feeling of grass tickling in between your toes and the light sound of sprinkles on a tin roof. I would make a shirt- no a sweatshirt- out of my fabric. It would be both stylish and functional. The feeling of a big hug when you need it most. It would have the feeling of home. The smell of my mom’s legendary zucchini bread and the sounds of family banter. My sweatshirt would symbolize the important things to me, it would be a reminder of my friends and family, a pick me up on an eh day, and a sense of calm. It would be composed of my mom’s love and laced with my dad’s humor. It would have dashes of sister arguments- I mean disagreements- and bundles of determination. It would also have those important qualities to remind me to stay true to myself.
How I would spend my last day on Earth would be pretty simple. I would really want to go to places that are meaningful to me just to get one more good look at them and to relive their memories before we leave. I would take pictures of those places and other things that are important to me. I would take pictures of Earth’s beautiful landscapes, majestic animals, and serene views. I would want to remember my house, the neighborhood, my neighbors, everything. I would want to remember even the smallest things the way freshly cut grass smells, the memories of swimming in the lake, and even the hot air balloons we see in the fall. I would want to remember what my school looked like, where all of my friend’s houses were, and even what the woods around my house was like. The hardest part would be leaving all of the beautiful places you will never get to visit. All of those “bucket-list” destinations that were never fulfilled.