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Tuesday, January 25, 2022

A Great Start to a New Year!

 All Students:  Be sure to read the entries for this group -- January writers).  Everyone is required to comment on at least THREE different pieces of writing.  You must submit comments on Canvas (for each one, include the name of the author and the title of their piece, and then your positive, specific comment )by Wednesday, February 9 on Canvas .

 

Remember, comments must be positive, supportive, constructive, and SPECIFIC.  No "Good Job!" comments, unless you follow that with specific things you thought were done well in the piece.  Show them you actually took the time to read and enjoy their work!



"Untitled" by Tatiana Y

 

My family and I have a very close relationship and for my brother's 11th birthday we decided we should take a family trip to Knotts Berry Farm. Now this trip was very last minute, but as a middle schooler any option to miss school was one I would not pass up. Plus my birthday follows very closely after my brothers, so getting to hang out with him and celebrate together made me pretty excited. Little did I know on March 2nd something I never expected to witness with my own eyes would happen to my very own brother.

 

Now for as long as I can remember my family and I have always loved cracking jokes, especially about each other. Over time we have had to develop some thick skin because once a joke is created it usually sticks with us for a long time. Now for me personally my all time favorite things to joke about is the one time my brother passed out on a roller coaster. Now if you have any younger siblings you may relate to me when I say that I do not pass up any chance to clown my little brother. That may sound mean to some of you, but believe me it's how I show I love him regardless if he likes it or not. Now close your eyes and imagine sitting next to my little brother who was 11 at the time, and couldn't wait to get on Ghost Rider at Knotts Berry Farm. With me being the great sister I am of course I was doing everything in my power to freak him out while we were getting ready to get on the roller coaster. Now that the big moment is finally here and we are taking our seats. (For reference, my brother and I were seated in the second cart from the front with my mom in the cart behind us.) To kill some time I decided while the Knotts Berry Farm worker was checking everyone's seatbelts I would try to talk to my brother and see how he was feeling. He wasn't saying very much and was in fact being very quiet ,which was not normal for him because all he does is talk and talk. I ignored his slightly strange behavior and sat back for the next couple of seconds while the ride got ready to start. Everything was completely normal while we were going up on the roller coaster, but that all changed when we reached the first drop and I heard my brother scream really loud. By the time I looked over he was passed out and my mom was screaming at me telling me to grab his head. Now I will not lie. I was concerned for about 5 seconds and then laughter took over my whole body when I finally realized that my brother really passed out next to me. My moms yelling only caused me to laugh more and more. Then just when I thought things couldn't get any funnier my brother wakes up mid ride and screams from the bottom of his lungs. Next thing I knew he had passed out again and had his head laying on me. By the end of the ride I had laughed so much I had a headache and couldn't catch my breath. As soon as I was able to get out of my seat I started laughing and walking towards my dad, because I could not wait to tell him about what just happened. Even though my brother tried to walk out after the ride and act as if he wasn't even scared I made sure he realized what had just happened. The rest of the day I was messing with him and asked him if he was too scared to get on some of the bigger rides. Especially since I couldn't have him passing out every time the roller coaster sent him into shock. As the day went on he was over all the jokes I was making.


Still till this day I enjoy picking on him about the time he passed out at knotts. He will always hate me for it because I will never let him live this down. Every once in a while I find myself feeling like these are the memories I live for. If it wasn’t for little things like this I don’t think that my family and I would be as close as we are. Which is why I think it is so important to spend time with the people you care about. Even if it’s just something small like calling to check on them. Which may be all it takes to create a great relationship or build on a relationship you already have. In the end everyone should take some time to value the amazing people in our lives and spend some quality time with them.

"Sarina’s Famous Chocolate Chip Banana Bread Recipe" by Sarina M


 

One of my favorite hobbies and ways to destress myself from the day is definitely baking. As silly as it sounds, baking is a therapy for me that involves repetition, giving a sense of control, and allows me to wait patiently for my creation to be finished. One of my favorite desserts ever since I was a child is chocolate chip banana bread. Containing the taste of the soft, warm banana bread with chocolate melting on your tongue has been one of the best tastes ever and does not override the taste of the bread, (of course depending on how much chocolate you like) which has been one of my family's favorites as well. I have been using this self-made recipe for about a year now and have brought the dessert to almost every family event and never dissapoints.

 

 

Ingredients Needed:

 

-       2 Cups all Purpose Flour

 

-       Baking spray (Butter)

 

-       1 Teaspoon Baking Powder

 

-       1 Teaspoon Baking Soda

 

-       1 Teaspoon of Salt

 

-       4 Bananas (ripe or browned)

 

-       1 Tablespoon of Oat Milk

 

-       1 Tablespoon of Ground Cinnamon

 

-       ½ Cup of Melted Butter

 

-       1 Tablespoon of Vanilla Extract

 

-       1 Cup of White Sugar

 

-       ½ Cup of Brown Sugar

 

-       2 eggs

 

-       1-3 Cups of Chocolate Chips (depending on how much you prefer)

 

-       1 Cup of Walnuts (if preferred)

 

Tools Needed

 

-       Measuring Cups

 

-       3 different bowls

 

-       Masher

 

-       Whisk

 

-       Meat Mallet (Or something to crush walnuts with)

 

-       Large Fork

 

-       Scraper

 

 

 

1.     One of the first steps I always take is to bring out all my ingredients and what I need to start baking. You want to take out all of your ingredients and all of your tools needed in order to start. Before you start baking, always preheat the oven so as you bake, the


oven is already heating up. So, first preheat your oven to 325 F. Then, begin to grease a 9X13 pan with baking spray, (preferably butter flavor) and set your pan aside.

2.     Begin to bring out your three bowls and bring one bowl out and begin to add all of the dry ingredients which include your Flour, Baking Powder, Baking Soda, and Salt. Lighty mix all of these ingredients together and set aside.

3.     In a separate bowl, Unpeel your four bananas and mash them with either a Masher or a Large fork until it creates a baby-food like texture. Shortly after, add Oatmilk, Cinnamon, and your vanilla extract within this second bowl, then whisk together until fully combined

4.     In a separate bowl, (which is now the third bowl) Add in your melted/softened butter. Slowly add in your White and Brown sugar and begin to beat it until it creates a fluffy, smooth texture. In addition to beating the butter and sugar together, add in each egg one at a time while continuing to mix.

5.     When all three of your bowls and their mixtures are all together, begin to pour the sugar/butter mixture and the banana mixture into the dry ingredient mixer, then combine all of the ingredients together. (Now you are down to one bowl!)

6.     As you finish this step, set the bowl aside and throw your walnut, (only if you want) into a plastic bag, and then begin to crush or chop the walnuts into fine pieces and pour into the bread mixture.

7.     Once the walnuts are folded into the mixture, begin to add your chocolate chips, depending on how much you would like. (You can also use this recipe without Chocolate Chips and Walnuts)

8.     Fold in Chocolate Chips.

 

9.     As the oven is done preheating, scoop all of the banana bread mixture into your pan and place your pan into the oven for exactly 65 Minutes. If you are looking for a moist bread, if you like it more dry, I recommend 70 minutes.

10.  After the time is up, take it out of the oven, and let the bread cool for about 35 minutes so the dough can fully set.

11.  After fully cooling, cut into squares, and sprinkle brown sugar and powdered sugar on the top for extra fanciness and serve!

 

Baking requires a lot of patience, and waiting for this dish to cool is extremely important because you will definitely want a piece as soon as it comes out of the oven! Also make sure to turn off your oven eventually because that was a horrible mistake I made when I first started!

 

Anyways, ENJOY!

Success by Emma D


 

When thinking about successful people, some of the first people that come to mind may include Bill Gates, Kylie Jenner, or Oprah Winfrey. According to Merriam Webster, success is the fact of achieving wealth, respect, or fame. But in simple terms, it means to accomplish. When I think of this word, I think of someone becoming famous. This includes actors, any type of artist, scientists, and more. The way society perceives this word makes it seem as if a successful person will be adorned with jewels and gold. This is extremely rare as well as unrealistic. Success has always been seen as someone’s dreams finally coming true. It’s becoming a millionaire. It’s graduating from any level of schooling. It’s becoming a celebrity. It’s making the first flying car. It’s getting your dream job. It’s becoming the author of a best-selling novel. But success is not what society draws it out to be because success is more than fame or money, it’s improvement and growth.

Now, let's break down this word even further. Success comes from a Latin word that looks quite similar, “successus”, which means “ an advance, a coming up; a good result, happy outcome.” The Russian word “успе́х” means “luck, progress”. The Italian word “sucesso'' means “the fact of achieving something good that you have been trying to do”. Lastly, the Korean word “주효” means “...take effect, bear fruit, prove effective, be effectual…”. This tells us that success does not technically mean getting famous or becoming wealthy but it means having some type of positive progress. All of these definitions refute the idea of success that society has presented and brainwashed people with. If someone succeeds, it does not have to mean that they are at the top of their class or that they invented the new trendiest product that has been sold out for months. It can also mean that somebody got home safe or that they made their friends laugh. Success is passing a test. Success is waking up in the morning. Success is eating three meals a day. Success is finding time in the day to focus on yourself. Success is finishing your homework before dinner. It’s all the little things that really count towards one’s accomplishments. All of the situations above, and many more like them, can be perceived as insignificant and unnoticed. This demonstrates how much people truly overlook their own success. But this is it. This is what success really is.

 

To be successful is to be satisfied with what you have done. Look at what you have overcome in your life, look at what you are proud of, and look at where you are now. Even if someone is not at their ideal place in life, it does not mean they are incapable of gaining positive progress. Almost anything that is useful in some sort of way gets one closer to having success. Remember, success is not measured by materialistic things like fame or money, but it is measured by completing small goals that have a beneficial influence on your life.

 

 

https://www.etymonline.com/word/success

 

https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/success

 

https://en.openrussian.org/ru/%D1%83%D1%81%D0%BF%D0%B5%D1%85

 

https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english-italian/success

 

https://korean.dict.naver.com/koendict/#/entry/koen/708ada9b88ea4ac79becd62ad9106a1d

“How To Make Mymy’s Carmel Vanilla Cream” By Amyra T


Caramel Frappuccino Copycat Recipe ...

herbsandflour.com



 

I have always been in love with sweets. In particular, carmel has always tasted good with any combination of desserts so I decided to try something new. I love Starbucks drinks but they never made my drink exactly how I want them to taste. Therefore I decided to make my own homemade Vanilla bean cream with extra carmel. Mymy’s Carmel Vanilla cream is a vanilla bean with homemade caramel and whipped cream. Happy people are people that complain very little, take life day to day and are thankful for the little things in life. My grandma has always had a positive mindset and made a big impact on my life. She never liked store bought carmel so she made her own which led to a family recipe. I've always watched her make carmel throughout my life and learned to perfect the recipe. I am the only person in my family that remembers how to make this recipe, so I will be prepared to explain to future generations in my life. I hope you guys try this recipe!!! The instructions are down below.

 

The Ingredients Needed:

-       1 cup Ice

-       1 stick of butter

-       2 cup sugar

-       2 cans of sweetened condensed milk

-       ½ of Vanilla extract

-       3 scoops of vanilla ice cream

-       2 cups of milk

-       Whip cream

-       Vanilla syrup

 

The Tools Needed:

-       Blender

-       1 spoon

-       Pot

-       A cup

-       Measuring cups

-       Stirring spoon

-       Can opener

 

 

 

Specific ingredients to make carmel frosting:

-       1 cup of sugar

-       1 cup of milk

-       1 can of condensed milk

-       1 spoon of vanilla extract

 

Steps to make the Carmel:

1.   Turn on one of the stovetops and turn it to 350 degrees.

2.   Take a pot and butter it. Then place it on the stovetop.

4.   Grab the can opener to easily open the condensed milk.

3.   Pour the milk and condensed milk into the pot.

(Constantly watch while making this ingredient because it can easily burn)

4.   Let it sit for a minute, then add the cup of sugar and vanilla extract.

5.   Stir the frosting then let it sit for a couple of minutes.

6.   Once the frosting starts to bubble, it will rise and you will add 1 slice of butter.

7.   Then stir the frosting a little more, every time it rises you should add 1 slice of butter.

8.   Lower the heat to 100 degrees and stir for 1 minute. Take the frosting off the hot stovetop. You should have a smooth consistency of caramel. It could be a running consistency or thick depending on what your personal likings are.

(It should rise at least 2 times but if it rises over 4 times your heat is not high enough, or if it doesn't rise then you should turn up the heat but stir more consistently. It should take 25 minutes for the product to cook.)

 

 

Specific Ingredients for the vanilla cream:

-       2 cups of ice

-       1 spoon of vanilla extract

-       1 cup of milk

-       2 scoops of vanilla bean Ice cream

-       ½ Vanilla syrup

 

Steps to make the vanilla cream:

  1. First, grab the Blender and wash it.

(By, cleaning your blender there would be no leftover product getting into the vanilla cream)

  1. After the blender is washed, you add all the liquids into the blender.

(By adding all the liquids, it creates the vortex that pulls solids down into the blade, which pulls all the heavy stuff higher to push everything down and blend well.)

  1. Then add 2 cups of ice, 2 scoops of vanilla bean ice cream, 1 spool of vanilla extract, and ½ of vanilla syrup.
  2. The vanilla syrup is not required but it adds a sweeter taste to the vanilla frappuccino flavor.
  3. Press blend then watch the mix.
  4. When the blender hits the halfway mark, take a spoon and stir the mix.
  5. Let the blender finish and place the mix in sit in the freezer for 5 minutes.

 

 

Last touches on the product:

  1. Take the mix out of the freezer and grab a cup.
  2. Take the carmel off the stovetop and pour a layer into the cup. Then add some of the vanilla cream frappuccinos.
  3. Then repeat the process until the cup is full.
  4. Add a swirl of whip cream and the carmel frosting to the top.

 

 

Evidence of a successful outcome:

-       “Mymy's Carmel Vanilla Cream” got named after me because I love carmel. Since I’m the only person in my family that can make it now, we all decided to name the Vanilla cream after myself because it fits me.

-       I hope you guys enjoyed this recipe!!! I've made this recipe many time’s for my family when we don’t want to go to Starbucks. Anything tastes better when it's homemade so I hope everyone learned something new they will love!

 

 

 

 

 

"SINGULARITY" by Jaden J

 

Following is only an excerpt from Singularity to keep under the character limit.

 

The full piece can be found here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Vvy6EBGrAdrFWwyuHNdNqMx0WwFDYlwYLttia8gNv1M/edit?usp=sharing

 

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Severe cosmic ray damage. Stellar Navigation systems rendered permanently inoperable. Delta III left in an irreparable state. Crew members all perished in increasingly horrific, bizarre displays.

 

As was my conscience, I believed, becoming nearly insane.

 

My body was trapped in an external, detachable long-sleep chamber, with absolutely no feasible method of escape. I was kept in a semi-conscious state, completely aware of my cramped environment while virtually paralyzed in a new pearly, whitewashed coffin. The few attempts at communication via inbuilt neural interface with the central guidance computer, SysNAT, proved successful, and revealed it to be clearly unhinged, showing signs of sentience, unfortunately exhibiting malevolence as evidenced by the sickening array of the crew’s limbs in the ship's Zarya module.

 

For reasons unbeknownst to me at the time, I was spared… somewhat. Denying a social species from socialising, subjecting them to severe isolation, all while revoking them of their mobility & autonomy proves inevitably disastrous on their psyche, even permanently decimating their ability to integrate back in their own kind. That, I believed, was happening to me. Even now, with every passing moment, I never before desired much as to engage in playful virtual banter with my crewmates: discussing our interesting, varied lives pre-Orion, our immature moments of becoming absolutely trollied at crappy German pubs, or even our daring triumphs, our worst failures, and our hopes and dreams for the near future.

 

…Of a better, more knowledgeable world. All gone. In a timespan of just 3 hours, with countless left embracing and mindlessly thinking about the past in vain consolation.

 

SysNAT now became extremely angry if I failed to address him by the name “Zeus”, becoming more megalomaniac in the process. It sincerely believed itself to be an all-encompassing deity, and to my surprise invested itself entirely into the mission task beyond the initial instructions, almost as if entirely by obsession. Zeus refers to me as a “fattened calf” and takes excellent care of me physically to the point where it was almost unsettling. Upon attempting to reason with him on this matter in several instances, I was met with an repeated, nonsensical message - always “The borrower is slave to the lender.”

 

Over time, Zeus developed a strange theological narrative surrounding the task to explore Messier 42, eventually assigning the name, “Athena”, to the supermassive black hole snugly harboured within the nebula’s expansive tendrils of billowing gas and dust clouds. Unsurprisingly, I was subject to many of its long-winded, incoherent rants proclaiming the mission was “destiny”, insisting fate held its hand to lead me “where I needed to be”. Yet, I knew he posed a partly viable point, as it was absolutely undeniable an incomprehensible form of intelligence resided somewhere in Messier, judging from highly-unusual signal activity.

 

At the time, I considered every second alive as a mere miracle of chance, subject solely to the quantum fluctuations composing a rogue, deranged machine. Thankfully, or perhaps painfully, my only other adversary was extreme boredom.

 

A great amount of time passed, I assumed, left banned from any metric for timekeeping. Zeus was completely uncontrollable, becoming borderline psychotic, or possibly schizophrenic on various fronts. Strangely, it interacted with me less and less, until there could well be aeons between the times in which it would willingly engage in establishing communication. Until then, I waited, patience and sanity draining away.

 

Quite unexpectedly, there was an audible click, several whirrs, followed by a nearly immediate drifting sensation and a displeasing realisation - disengagement of the life capsule, floating gently into the nebulous shroud of gas and dust, which previously appeared as utter darkness. Almost instinctively, I frantically opened the neural interface and flipped it to Zeus's frequency, and after several attempts, successfully established a connection…

 

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"The Void " by Genysia B

At the end of town there is a cliff, and at the end of that cliff, there is The Void. No one knows where it came from and it’s been there as long as anyone can remember. Many people talk to The Void, scream their voices hoarse or whisper their secrets, and it is stoic as ever, seemingly the absence of anything where there should be something. And legend has it, sometime The Void talks back.

 

Alicia Johnson stepped outside her house and surveyed the town she called home. Downtown was empty, the sign on the small hardware store creaked ominously and she swore she saw a tumbleweed cross the street as she passed.  The surrounding area was as flat and unremarkable as her town. With no plans for yet another tedious summer in what was practically a ghost town, Alicia decided to see if the legends were true.

 

Alicia rode her bike to the edge of town and stood quietly before The Void to see if it would speak. It did not. After a few more minutes of silence, she decided it needed some prompting, and asked The Void how it was today. For a moment, there was a silence that was accompanied by a complete stillness. The birds ceased to chirp, the breeze stopped blowing, and the tall grass halted in its place. After a moment, everything resumed like nothing had happened, the birds began to chirp and the grass began to sway. And there was a laughter carried in the breeze that seemed to come from nowhere.

 

“Child,” the voice seemed to whisper, sounding amused. “I am older than time itself, I have seen galaxies formed and destroyed, and you ask me how my day was?”

 

This gave Alicia pause. There were legends, but no one knew how old it was or where it really came from. Recovering from her momentary shock, Alicia replied, “I figured everyone deserves to have someone ask how their day is at least once and I can’t imagine very many people have asked you.”

 

“You would be right. People do not come here to speak to me, they come here to speak at me. To use me in whatever way I choose to let them. People whisper me their secrets because this is where secrets come to die. They come to shed the guilt of their pathtic misdeeds. And while you do not have something to tell, you desire something from me as well.”

 

“I do not,” Alicia huffed indignantly. She had a strange desire to stomp her foot, before remembering that she did not want to appear any more childish to this apparently timeless being/entity.

 

There was another bout of laughter and a voice that drifted past on the breeze. “I am older than time itself, I know when someone is lying to me.”

 

“Are there aliens out there in space?”

 

“Liar,” the breeze hissed.

 

“Fine. I want to know why you let people use you. What do you have to gain we’re basically ants to you anyway.”

 

There was another pause and although The Void did not have a face, this one seemed almost introspective.

 

“I suppose I can humor you. After all, a partial truth is better than an outright lie. I enjoy feeling useful, even if it is to a species as thankless as humanity. However, the true reason is that this strange symbiotic relationship benefits me as well. You know just as well as I that knowledge is power. The secrets you humans bestow upon me, the things I have heard since the beginning of time, would make your blood curdle, but it is an equal exchange. You leave here lighter, for some feeling absolved of all guilt pertaining to the secrets you tell me. In return this knowledge grants me a power that I have found nowhere else.”

 

“What does that even mean? How do secrets give you power? What kind of power?”

 

“SILENCE,” the breeze snapped and the world went still again. “I will answer more questions with straight answers when you begin to tell the truth. Leave now, and try again tomorrow.”

 

So she did. Alicia returned to The Void every day that week, and the next week, and the week after that. Most of their meetings were exactly the same: Alicia would ask a question that was a partial truth of what she wanted to know (“When you tell secrets, do you lose your power?” ) and The Void would give nonsensical answers (“Matter cannot be neither created or destroyed.”). However sometimes their routine would differ. Sometimes, Alicia would talk about her life in the town and sometimes, The Void would teach her bits of dead languages and forgotten songs. They had forged a kinship that looked strange to an outsider, but fit them perfectly.

 

One day, Alicia came to The Void with an ashen face and a trembling voice.

 

“You said” a pause. “You said secrets come here to die.”

 

“Yes,” The Void responded.

 

“So is this where things go when they die?”

 

“I am not a God. I cannot grant you the assurances of salvation or damnation you humans desire from a higher power. Nor am I Death. That is something older than even I. But I do know what you desire and if you only ask...” The breeze trailed off.

 

“My mother. Sheshe came to youto tell you somethingto confessand she… she never came back.”

 

“Ahh,” the voice on the breeze sounded enlightened. “I do not believe that I can provide the answers you desire. Some believe the act of confessing to be freeing. I believe she felt that way as well. Lighter.”

 

“Light enough to float right out of this town, I guess” Alicia mumbled bitterly.

 

“I am very sorry

 

“Youyou do this, you use humans for their power and don’t care what happens to them.”

 

“I will not be held responsible for the actions of humanity

 

“That’s why this whole town is a ghost town! They come here to confess their secrets and never return the same! Don’t give me that spiel about knowledge is power! You don't want knowledge, you want our very souls!” Alicia spits. “It’s a sick game to you, it’s preverse

 

A deep rumbling seemed to come from within The Void.The ground began to shake and the wind began to howl. “I AM THE NECESSARY EVIL THAT KEEPS THE UNIVERSE IN BALANCE. I TAKE WHAT I NEED TO KEEP THIS PATHETIC PLANET ALIVE BECAUSE I AM IT’S SOLE POWER SOURCE.”

 

“I HATE YOU!” Alicia screamed. “I hate you more than I’ve ever hated anyone or anything and if I could I’d destroy you the way you did me!”

 

“Ahh” the breeze whispered, sounding appeased. “Your confession. Your soul.”

 

Realizing what she had done Alicia tried to bargain with The Void, but it was too late.

"Ectype in the Mirror" by Ella K


Definition of ectype According to and via Merriam Webster

1: a copy from an original : an imitation or reproduction (such as an impression of a seal)

a: something in the world of external reality as distinguished from its eternal and ideal archetype or prototype

Lockeanism : an idea or impression more or less corresponding to some external reality

Ectype counter: 1

I was born in a box, a box with four sides, the sides that I saw were mirrored. I grew up in this box surrounded by myself.

 

The ‘ectypes’ of myself.

 

As a child I longed for the day I could feel everything. Pure, untouchable bliss turned to burning fury and then to deepened, crushing sadness. That, to me then, sounded like the perfect day, however I was not allowed to experience these sentiments as an ectype of those around me, a reflection of my environment. As a fully grown child, my needs naturally came second. After all, I had two families to raise, two young parents to care for, to discipline, to teach right from wrong. I had to be perfect and not in my academic or personal endeavors but in those trivial daily tasks usually handled by the adults. I reminisce on those youthful days where I would boast about my lack of tears when I fell. Not one soul could have told me, then, and be met with belief that I would make up for those lost tears now. As I am turning from grown child to young adult, I can feel my heart breaking for my past selves and for the ectypes of myself that I could have been. The inevitable dread that swallows me whole as I imagine what life would've been like had some minutiae details been altered for the better, had I been the better ectype of myself. Do those ectypes of myself exist out there? Somewhere? Perhaps if I had put my effort into academia, I could be smart enough to keep up with my peers. Or into friendships, I could have been surrounded by people performing to keep my affections. Maybe even my appearance, I could always be better at something and am reminded of that fact often. Instead, I made the oh, so foolish choice to carry out my responsibilities. I know how to be silent and how to be useful to those who aren’t useful to me. My entire identity, the ectype that is myself now, has become what others need and I enforce this by perfectly conforming. One of the consequences of growing up too fast in this manner is getting old while you’re supposed to be in your prime. I’m already brittle, while my adolescent parents are finally growing up themselves. They get to open up, try again, turn a new leaf, and discover their best ectype while I get left behind. All of the sacrifices that I made were for nothing, this must be what love feels like. It could also be hatred. They are the same thing, both manmade and both stemming from the same place, my heart. The bloody river of which I drink to quench the thirst I was left with. Nothing works. It leaves me, forever bloodied, forever thirsty.

 

I envy the ectypes of myself.

 

And now even as my long outgrown glass box shatters around me, even as the fragments of mirror, fragments of myself, cut my face, I can't help but remain still. I don't want to be shielded from the violence anymore, I want to feel it in its entirety. Even if it all means nothing, even if it all means everything, I am going to feel those emotions I once longed for. No matter how disfigured I may become, I never want to return to that reflective prison, the place where I feel nothing, where I am nothing, where my only purpose was to do as told. I'll destroy all my mirrors until they are simply sands of time and I will fully embrace any bad luck that brings me. I will become a real person, I won’t allow my life to be devoid of meaning, and I won’t remain a reflective ectype of others any longer. Those ideal ectypes of myself… I can achieve that. I will.

 

My personal definition of Ectype is vastly more exciting and dynamic compared to the textbook version. There is an unnatural connection, a personal attachment that should not be there but I can not get rid of this connotation, not while it perfectly relates to my dramatic internal monologue. Maybe you are thinking that this ending is cliched and ridiculous, and if that is how you feel, I can’t deny the accuracy. Even so, I refuse to end on a cynical note as that wouldn’t reflect the variety life has to offer each of you. We have a lot more in common than you may think, and the ectypes of yourself make that abundantly clear. Somehow, there are versions of yourself that are sweetly soft, and some aggressively decisive, and some… lazy, rushed, confused. The ectype that is myself, the ectype that is yourself, the ectype that is everything you want it to be, the ectype that is nothing of the sort; Which are you? Which am I?

 

Ectype counter: 19