October Writers! Yes!

Remember to read all of the selections for this month  (October writers)--   comments are for this latest group only (no last year's submissions)

All Students:  Be sure to read the entries for this group  (October writers).  Everyone is required to comment on at least THREE different pieces of writing.  You must post the comment here on the blog (below the post is the "comments" link to click) AND cut and paste your comments, complete with dates and times, on to a Word document and turn it in to me by November 6, on Google Classroom.  You must do both to get credit for comments this month.

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!

"Kindness " by Halie M

     When people think of kindness, most of us often think about maybe sitting next to someone lonely at lunch or helping an elderly woman cross the street. Even though those are perfect examples of showing random acts of kindness, some people view kindness as spending a certain amount of money in order to make someone feel happy. Some may even think that just because they did something nice, they will get something out of it. However, not everyone has the capability of spending tons of money, and the key to kindness is to do something that comes from the heart, which leads me to my more descriptive definition of what the word kindness truly means.
     The original definition of the word kindness is ​the quality of being friendly, generous, and considerate. In my opinion, kindness is the act of doing something considerate, from the heart, and is what leaves an impact on people’s lives no matter how big or small the act ends up being. ​The whole idea of showing kindness does not mean you have to do something major or spend tons of money on something in order to please someone, rather it means to have a good heart and to demonstrate random acts throughout the day. This could be as simple as giving someone a compliment or saying hi to them. Many of us may not think about it, but the simplest things are what could change a person’s attitude for the rest of the day by sharing some positivity. In the article “6 Science-Backed Ways Being Kind Is Good for Your Health” by Maile

Proctor, she states, “Doing nice things for others ​boosts your serotonin​, the neurotransmitter responsible for feelings of satisfaction and well-being. Like exercise, altruism also releases endorphins, a phenomenon known as a ‘helper’s high.’” This comes to show how important spreading kindness is no matter how a person ends up showing it.
     In today’s society, I would say kindness is still around but not as much as it should be due to the fact that people are becoming more self-absorbed. Have you ever encountered a person who was being rude to you? I know I have multiple times and for a brief moment I do not think about kindness, as it fades away in my mind. Usually when someone is being cruel to you, it is human to either show the rudeness back or ignore the person, wanting nothing to do with them. However, people like me need to be reminded that showing kindness is still relevant to those insolent people.      One person that had always showed kindness was a girl named Rachel Joy Scott. “People will never know how far a little kindness can go.” This quote from Scott shows how no matter what random acts of kindness we choose to do, it will still have an impact on someone else’s life. It is also a great demonstration on how kindness can be contagious and start a chain reaction.
In the end, if only everyone were to understand that kindness does not revolve around money or gifts, and if people were a little less self-absorbed, kindness could come from anyone and become an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it could also lessen the amount of hatred in today’s world.

"What Defines Success?" by Andrea H

      Obtaining wealth, gaining fame, living your dream, or acquiring all your desires; Is this
your definition of success? According to the dictionary, success is defined as a favorable or desired outcome or the attainment of wealth, favor, or eminence. If we base our idea of success in this definition alone, one can assume that a person’s success in life is measured by how much they have accomplished or how many goals they’ve reached throughout their lifetime. However, I think that success cannot only be measured on the things we’ve accomplished because most of the time in the process of achieving success, we encounter obstacles that lead to failure but that doesn’t mean success wasn’t achieved. Success is mental freedom, which means feeling fulfilled in knowing that you did your best effort in trying to reach your goals without always expecting to gain the desired result.
     In life, we cannot avoid failure as it will always find its way to hunt our dreams and goals. So when it comes, it’s up to us on whether we take it as a sign to give up or use it to find our inner peace and try again. Winston Churchill, a British prime minister who once led his country to success in World War II said, “Success is stumbling from failure to failure with no loss of enthusiasm”. It doesn’t matter how many times a person falls from trying, what matters is how they’ll pull themselves back up with the determination to do better and succeed. This highlights the true meaning of success because by getting back up on our feet we allow to build up ourselves as a whole to satisfy and finish what we’ve started instead of crumbling down into ashes.
     Throughout my childhood, I used to always picture success as having a huge house with luxurious cars and a stash of cash and every time I failed to achieve my view of success, for

instance, failing to earn a load of cash. I gave up and shrugged it off. However, as I grew up and became mature, I learned how cruel the world was through my recent discoveries and experiences. So I decided to detach myself from the basic standards and ideals of what it takes to be successful. Instead, I found my peace of mind, which eventually led me to appreciate more of the efforts I made whenever I encountered failures in life. After grasping this mindset, I felt more successful with myself as I felt no pressure or stress to achieve this so-called success; since I started to focus more on contentment and my happiness.
     Success has a deeper connotation to it than just wealth and desires. It has a connection with mental freedom and If the world learned to stray away from their vision that success is about attaining wealth and gaining fame, they’ll discover the true and deeper meaning of success. It took me a slap of reality to determine that success is not based on money, but once I detached myself from the definitions and standards that I had learned growing up, I achieved my inner peace and understood success. So remember not to be blinded by materialistic things and discouraged by failure because you’ll never be able to accomplish the real success in life.
  


Sources:
-“Success.” ​Merriam-Webster,​ Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/success​.

-DeMers, Jayson. “51 Quotes to Inspire Success in Your Life and Business.” ​Inc.com​, Inc., 3 Nov. 2014, https://www.inc.com/jayson-demers/51-quotes-to-inspire-success-in-your-life-and-business.html. -​Santana, L. (2019). ​How to Achieve Mental Freedom​. [online] World of Psychology. Available at: https://psychcentral.com/blog/how-to-achieve-mental-freedom/ [Accessed 17 Oct. 2019].

"Human Enough to Not Be a Hero" by Tammy P

     I got hurt beyond words — not once but twice.
A tornado of emotions threatened to shake my foundations. A flood of insecurities and doubts attempted to drown my resolve. A series of unfortunate events left me standing in the eye of the hurricane trying to gather the broken pieces and make sense of everything. It all began with that unforgettable day that creeps its way into my nightmares...
     This quiet day in late September 2018 proceeded like any other day. I trudged through my classes in a daze; the events of the first month of school still had me in subconscious shock. I felt physically weak, emotionally drained, and mentally depleted with the sole desire to go home. Then, again, this was how I felt every day for the first few weeks of the first semester. Knowing that I had a full agenda of homework and after school meetings on this average Wednesday, I decided to postpone everything and call it a day.
    I made the mile-long journey from my sixth period classroom in the back of the T-portables to my cerulean blue car named Blu in the student parking lot. Of course, after school traffic presented itself as a nuance as always which is part of the reason why I never leave school early. I quelled my rising tiredness and frustration with the thought of an after school nap as the long line of cars in front of me and behind me began unnecessarily honking at each other.
     After escaping the quagmire of parental and teenage drivers, I drove home. I expected to only be greeted by my younger sister since my parents would be busy at work on a typical Wednesday. As I pulled into the garage, my tiredness reached the point where I wanted to throw my backpack on the marble living room floor and take a nap right on our black leather couch since I did not have the energy to expend on the climb upstairs to my room. However, my plans fell apart when my mom greeted me in our living room.
    The air around me suddenly turned cold and I froze mid-step. My mom would never be home at 3:30 PM on a Wednesday; she would have been too busy managing her small business. I felt the ominous premonition of bad news as though it was palpable in the air. Negative thoughts ran through my mind at mach speed. Is something wrong? Did something happen? What happened? I voiced none of my impertinent questions since I knew my mom had something serious to tell me — something seriously bad. All of these thoughts, questions, and decisions happened instantaneously in my head as I placed my backpack on the living room floor before joining my mom by her side. She took my hands in her hands and asked, “How was your day at school?” Of course, she would ask that question. She asked that question every night at dinner but I knew that this time it was being used to stall the news. I shook my head and softly replied, “I know that you have something to say, Mom. Just give me the news.”
     That was it. That was all it took. My mom broke into tears. She gave the news that no one saw coming because it was kept a secret. A secret that was kept even from loved ones.
     A gasp escaped my lips as I blinked back tears as my mind raced to search for signs. I scoured in vain to retrieve any clues that could have foreshadowed this second loss in the span of a single month. This loss left a void in my extended family. Someone who I grew up with, someone who was a second mom to me, secretly battled cancer for months; we found out too late. My best friend lost her mom that day and I lost a second mother figure. I watched my best friend cry for the first time that day; I watched one of the strongest people I know show their weakness. My heart broke as she tried and failed to hold back her tears even as I tried and

failed to hold back my tears. I dealt with how the pain and loss affected me yet I also empathized with my best friend’s pain and loss. It felt like getting hurt not just once but twice.
    I avoided reliving that day; I avoided thinking about that event in general. Everything happened too fast, too suddenly, and too soon that I did not have time to process everything. I never felt more lost, more unsure, or more insecure. At the same time, so many of my friends were feeling the same way. We were all trying to support each other even as we were all fighting our own battles. Battles that we told no one else about because we thought we were being strong. However, we soon realized that it was all a facade. A cheap act that none of us were buying from each other because we knew each other too well. Through the stories and through the confessions, I became more comfortable with being vulnerable. I stopped pretending that everything was okay because sometimes it is not; that is part of being human. I did not expect what came and did not know what was coming next but I knew that I would not be the only one feeling that way.
The most important people in my life showed me how to be strong even during our most vulnerable times by being honest and being open about our situations and our feelings. Sometimes, we do not always need a hero in our lives. Sometimes, we just need someone to help us feel human, to say that we can feel the way we feel without sugarcoating or diluting our feelings. For the longest time in my life, I felt so lost in a maze of confusion and pain. My remaining loved ones guided me out of that maze. I realized I was strong, strong enough to admit that I was hurting on the inside. I realized that I was human, human enough to not be a hero.

"The Dirt Road" by Breana P

      The car spun out of control, as Henry gripped the steering wheel. His 1990 Chevy Impala
crashed into a nearby tree, and his chest bounced off the steering wheel. Henry sat unconscious for an hour, until his eyes began to open. He sat up straight and felt his head. Henry forgot where he was, until he noticed his cracked windshield and bent hood. He adjusted himself and pushed open his door. Henry stumbled as he got out of his car. He turned and was shocked to still be alive, his car was totaled. Henry looked around to see where he was at, it was pitch black and the only thing he could make out was a dirt road. This is his only option of finding help, so he began walking.
     After about a mile or so Henry came upon a hotel. The red neon lights spelt out ​The Charlotte Hotel​.  He stared at it in awe, and continued walking into it. Though the exterior seemed beautiful, the interior seemed as if no one has stayed at the hotel for years. Chairs and tables were only covered in dust, the carpet was torn, and the paint on the walls were chipping away. Henry gulped as he approached the desk to see if anyone was there. “Excuse me? Is anyone here?” Henry began to ring the bell a few times, yet nothing happened. He decided to head back out until he heard a voice. “May  I help you sir?” Henry spun around and saw a receptionist, he was a young man who was wearing a maroon colored suit with gold buttons

alongside the center. His name tag read Stanley. Henry was taken aback, he could’ve sworn that the lobby was entirely empty. “I’m actually on my way out...” Henry hurriedly walked over to the entrance, but the doors wouldn’t budge. He pushed and kicked the doors, yet nothing happened. Henry saw that Stanley wasn’t there anymore. He looked around trying to find a way out. His eyes met with a pair of green orbs. It was a woman. She was wearing a torn up nightgown, and her hair was tangled. Her face was pale and she pointed behind Henry. Henry moved his head to see what she was looking at and once he turned back around, the woman lunged at Henry. However, she went right through him. He fell back, gasping for air. He immediately bolted to the stairs. He ran and ran up the flights of stairs without realizing he was on the 8th floor. Henry panted as he tried to catch his breath. He tried to think of all the rational explanations for what has occurred to him. None of it made sense. He began walking towards the elevators, he was too exhausted to go back down the flight of stairs. Henry stepped into the elevator, and pressed the button labeled Lobby. The elevator began to move, but it rapidly changed from going down to going up. Henry frantically pressed the Lobby button but the elevator had a mind of its own. It stopped, and he saw that he was on the 13th floor. The hallway was dark, the only source of light was from the elevator which illuminated a bit it. Henry was pressing any button at this point just to get out of the hotel. A sound caught his attention as he peered into the vacant hallway. It was a woman’s scream, and this was enough for Henry, he pressed the Lobby button and the elevator actually worked this time. Henry sprinted towards the entrance and luckily the doors were able to open. He ran a few feet, and when he turned around, the hotel was gone. Henry didn’t have time to reflect on what happened.

     He continued walking, until he saw a police car. Henry ran up to the car, and knocked on the officer’s window. “Excuse me! Excuse me! Officer can you help me?” The officer was still looking straight, not making a move. “Hello? Officer please help me!” Then his radio came on. “Officer Williams there has been an accident off the side of the road. The driver seems to be dead.” The officer readjusted himself. “This is Officer Williams, I’m on my way.” Henry decided to follow the car, he began jogging. As Henry was following the police car, he started realizing that his surroundings looked familiar. He finally caught up to the car, and saw an ambulance with two other police cars. He noticed officers and paramedics surrounding a car. Henry started to slowly walk towards them. As Henry approached the car, he screamed when he saw the dead body. It was him.

"The Fool Dressed in Crimson" by Jolyei G

      ThumpThumpThump.​ My heart begins to beat out of my chest as I realize the magnitude of my
situation. I lay paralyzed on the cold forest ground-partly out of pain, partly out of fear- with only the pale moonlight shining through the trees illuminating my field of vision, atop of the plethora of dead, brindle fall leaves and a pool of warm crimson, as I hear the hustle and bustle of nature coupled with the nearby freeway intersection. I use all the energy left inside of me to ponder, still and silent. Ponder how someone could adore me for one second, then ruin me the next. I still remember the brazen, animalistic look in your once caring, angelic green eyes. I lay and begin to weigh which pain hurts more: physical or mental. My consciousness continues to fade in and out and I panic. This cannot be how it ends. I refuse. I grab a leaf and start to trace my eyes over the intricacies of it. At this point I needed to keep myself focused on anything but what I feel, until help arrived. I thank God that I practiced breathing exercises during AP season last year, but nothing could stop me from thinking back on us, and what we used to be... 

     I glanced at you, from a healthy distance of course. My interest in you particularly peaked when I saw you at Goodwill with your good friend. I still remember the happiness in your eyes-what initially attracted me- and I could see you glowing from within. I was terrified to approach you, dear God I wish I trusted my gut. I stopped you before English and began to ramble and ramble,

but you stopped me, grabbed my phone, and put your number in, no questions asked. We texted all day, all night, all the time. It was my addiction, my infatuation, whatever you want to call it. You were magnetic, from your humor, your curiosity about the world, and your loving spirit. We hung out everyday. No matter how trivial the activity was, we could not bear to be apart. The months and months of joy and life we brought each other came to a sudden stop, and I still have no clue why. You checked out mentally. You were void of your humanity. You demanded for me to leave you alone.   But I was foolish. I refused to live with the idea of abandoning you and everything we built. I leeched onto something dying, no scratch that, dead, and tried to revive it with one sided effort. I should have acknowledged your sudden switch in demeanor, and in the way you treated me, but I was foolish, I thought it was love. Love would not have led to this. You finally had enough of my endless efforts.    You finally had enough of me. You grabbed me, restrained me by the very hands and feet you once adored, slammed me on the dirty and barren forest floor as if I were nothing more than weightless cargo, and began to tear away at everything you once coddled. I am ashamed to say you words hurt more than the dagger. The words that contradicted everything you once told me, caused me more pain than you physically ending my life. I wish I would have left well enough alone a year ago, but I was a fool for you. 

      Am I mad for wanting to text you once more? I hate you. I despise you. I loathe you. In my most vulnerable state, dying, I still wish to hear your delicate voice. It is hard to understand what I am feeling in what i know are my last moments. I could ponder about what my life once was, the family, friends, and legacy I am leaving behind, but I cannot help but to feel you were my entire life. I think you still are my entire life. And that terrifies me. I could blame my illogical and

strange thinking on my loss of blood and lack of oxygen flow, but i know for a fact that does not change a single thing. My heart pace is slowed, slowing at the moment along with the growing pool of crimson, and what felt like hours of pondering, was only 7 minutes, according to the watch you gave me for my birthday, shining dimly in the forest light, taunting me. I take one last deep breath and feel my eyelids feel as if there were sandbags on them. My body lays numb and tired on the lonely forest floor and I am thwarted into a hazy dream state, where I could hear the vicious sirens, but could not stop myself from feeling so drained. I lay, in the warm pool of crimson with my eyes shut, feeling cold, defeated, and foolish. ​This is it.

"Loss" by Elianna W

      The word loss according to the dictionary is, “the fact of losing something or someone.”
Some people may think of it as just losing materialistic things like their keys and they do not think anything about it. Or people who play sports lose games and are probably used to it. Sometimes people can lose important things such as a pet, a sentimental item, a house, or even a loved one. That kind of loss affects someone the greatest. It causes grief, depression, and the feeling of loneliness.
     Loss of a loved one does all of that to someone, and even more. It puts a huge, empty feeling in the heart that can never be all the way repaired again. The person is always on the mind, and one cannot do anything about it. They just have to sit alone, and process it in their own way. There is a mix of weird emotions that where the person has no idea what the right way to feel. Of course they feel sadness, but sometimes in some moments, they may feel alright about it. But then they feel guilty about feeling alright. It is a big cycle and it starts all over again. The worst part is, is that if the person wants to talk to their late loved one, they cant. All they have is the memories that were left behind. They even appreciate all of the bad and ugly moments of the relationship. They miss everything about that person, even the negative things. Even more so, all of the amazing moments of the relationship.

     Despite all of those things, loss can be a good experience for someone to go through. For example, a person can learn to fight through the pain and remain strong, which is probably what the late person wanted for them. They can learn new ways to love and appreciate other people too. They learn that they need to not take their loved ones for granted and always tell them they love them. The focus on other relationships can be good for the heart. They will have many other family members and friends supporting them. Loss can grow and ruin a person in many ways. Every single day, it is hard for them to live their life without the person, however it can draw together better relationships of others, and grow the mind and soul in a way that it cannot grow with other experiences. That is the true meaning of loss.

"Happiness and Its Role in Our Life" by Nevaeh S

     Happiness is the opposite of sadness. 

     Sadness is the absence of happiness. 

     That was what I thought until recently. I thought just because I wasn't sad, I was happy. I had gotten so caught up in trying to balance everything in my life all while still trying to maintain being “happy”. In the end I actually wasn’t content with my life or the way I was choosing to live my life.

      I realize now that this partially stemmed from society’s expectations of achieving happiness and being content with everyday. This is majorly influenced by social media and the use of influencers who share their happy life from one media platform to the next, which subconsciously embeds itself into our brain and affects our own lifestyle. And although social media has set some unrealistic standards for society, it has also undeniably been used for a number of great things for us today like awareness of certain issues, one of the issues being mental health. As mental health becomes more talked about in society, the idea of happiness is starting to be questioned. 

     What is happiness and what can we do to achieve it? 

     The dictionary definition just claims that happiness means to be pleased or content. Being content with life is good but it is actually proven that if we try to achieve happiness everyday and try to be joyful all the time, that can actually cause us harm. People who strive after happiness like it is an amazing quest will ultimately either be let down by the overwhelming task of always trying to be positive or underwhelmed at the idea that its not as magical as it had seemed. Joy is a good emotion and optimism is a great attitude for facing issues, however when we choose to ignore our real emotions and try to replace them with “happiness” then we are negatively affecting our lives because we think it's a box we can check off or use as a shield for our true feelings instead. When we are pushed to feel joy constantly then we risk the true value of what joy is.
     Even the idea of just being happy 24/7, are we really experiencing happiness? Learning to accept the fact that sadness and anger and other emotions will enter your life can help one grow emotionally and help us understand the complex feelings within ourselves. After experiencing other emotions and then finally experiencing a bit of joy from something small, then we are able to appreciate those moments and emotions we go through. The path to understand what the feeling of joy is to us is a rollercoaster. It has many high and exciting moments but also low and scary moments and as the roller coaster climbs up the hill to joy, the excitement is immeasurable once you reach that peak, even if the feeling only lasts for a moment. 

     We see now the role of mental health in society and the rising awareness of problems presenting themselves in our lives but it is up to us on how we ultimately choose as happiness and why we try so hard for a fleeting emotion.

• ●  https://www.dictionary.com/browse/sad
  
• ●  https://everydaypower.com/do-not-need-to-be-happy-all-the-time/
  
• ●  https://www.google.com/amp/s/amp.smh.com.au/lifestyle/health-and-wellness/pushing-happiness
  -as-the-holy-grail-is-creating-generation-anxiety-20190205-p50vwr.html
  

"Reality Check" by Salamah S

     I was walking through the long bronze gates as I could see plenty of various people; Martin Luther King Jr, Nelson Mandela, even Mahatma Gandhi was there. As I lift my foot to begin my approach towards the people, a tug pulled me back. Ugh it won’t let go, it is yelling something I can’t understand . Sounds like it’s saying...BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! As I jumped out of my bed to snooze the alarm on my iPhone to look at the clock. Shoot! It’s late! I look at the date to make sure today is really the day. Yep, May 24, 2011. I can hear the noise of the faucet rush down into the drain as my older sister moistens her toothbrush and the showerhead turning on as my little brother is getting ready to clean himself. Man I’m tired.  My mom strolls passed to my room to see that I’m still in bed,”Get up! We’re gonna miss our flight”. I quickly get out of my bed, wash up, get dressed and kiss my bed goodbye. “Man I’m gonna miss that thing” I say to myself. I rush downstairs and jump straight into the car and within 5 minutes, I fall asleep. I wake up just in time to see the large LAX symbol as we are about to enter the tunnel. This wasn’t my first time here by any means but it was always exciting to witness. I get down, grab my carry on, and walk towards the check in area. We check in and sooner rather than later I was on the airplane.

16 hours later ... 

We landed. The United Arab Emirates. It was 5:30 am yet it was still so hot. As we await our 24 hour layover flight, we explore the beautiful city of Dubai from the Burj Khalifa to the Burj al Arab. But our time was limited and back to the airport we go. Back onto the airplane and onto our next stop.

3 hours later ... 

We landed. The Kingdom of Jordan. It was about 10 am but it wasn’t hot. However we still weren’t done traveling. We go to the Jordan/Palestinian border so we can cross it. Normally you would fly into the airport in Palestine, but Israel does not allow Palestinian citizens to land there.
10 hours later ...
We crossed the border and now I’m in Palestine. Time to knock out. 

2 weeks later ... 

It’s a cool summer night as the breeze ran down my neck, the booming noise of the speakers can be heard all throughout the village. My cousins and I decided to see who was getting married this time. As we walk past the scent of the fresh falafel and joyous laughter of the men playing cards, we arrive at our destination. The singer is

Maher Halabi, well known all across the Middle East. The sound of the dance floor as the families celebrate the festivities marriage brings joy to all. Just when we least expected it, everything went downhill. The rumblings of the pebbles and gasps of the people only meant one thing, they were here. Four IDF (Israeli Defense Force) army trucks pull up to the venue with only one intention: to harm. The joyous laughter suddenly turned into frightening shrieks as smoke filled the air and flashes of white surrounded us. Shivers run down my spine as you hear, “Get the women and children out of here!” In the blink of an eye, I was being carried off by a man whose face was too blurry to see. I woke up the next morning thinking it was all a dream; yet indeed was not. Fast forward 7 years and I’ve realized what was going on.   Although I’ve faced one trauma, millions of Palestinians have faced hundreds.
     Having a reality check at such a young age however definitely benefited me. Early on in my life I was able to identify what our world is. To go from a naive kid at age 9 to a 9 year old who realized that the world isn’t what I thought it was, toughened me up. Learning to be grateful and humble for your lifestyle, because somewhere out in the world, somebody has it way worse than you. Learning to be the best version of myself not only to better myself but others around me. Learning to understand the struggles of others and being able to help them with that whether it’s a friend or even a refugee. Human success does not unite us, it’s our struggles that do. If we all help each other realize that obstacles are merely stepping stones to a better future, then the world MLK, Mandela, and Gandhi all wished for, would come alive.

"What is Love?" by Breanne H

     9What is love? From a young age, the only love I knew was from my parents, my siblings, my aunts and uncles, my family. As I got older, movies and TV shows started to mold my idea of romance, giving me impractical expectations of how a relationship should be. Now, having been through the worst and the best, my definition of love has changed. I used to believe that when someone says “I love you” it didn’t matter how they acted, it was what they said that matters. They love me, so they won’t do anything to hurt me, I thought, but I was wrong. Within this one relationship, I realized everything I didn’t want, everything I didn’t need. The meaning of love isn’t just how you feel or what you say, it’s how you express it. Communication, trust, loyalty, staying by your partner’s side through the worst times and celebrating the best, making each other better, this is what true love is. If your partner can’t give you their time, their unconditional love, was it real? 

     Sophomore year I had my first relationship. It was one of the most stressful things in my life, but since I wasn’t experienced, I thought it was normal. When we first started out, it seemed somewhat normal, texting everyday and facetiming when we could. After a few weeks, everything went downhill. My friends were texting and calling me, sending me screenshots of my partner cheating on me. I go to confront my ex, and all she said was “I love you, I would never do any of those things to you, it’s not true”. We had been through some drama already and I know her family situation wasn’t the best at the time, so I gave her the benefit of the doubt. At this point, the relationship was already toxic, but it got worse. There were months where I wouldn’t hear from her because her phone was “taken” and be blatantly lied to throughout the entire relationship.   Although these were clear red flags, I still hadn’t learned my lesson until I found out she was messing with another girl again. That was when I cut everything off. I said my goodbyes and left it at that. I spent days thinking to myself everything that I should have noticed from the beginning that would have kept me from staying in the relationship, but I was too

blinded by what she said that I didn’t. After this whole experience, I started to have trust issues and shielded my heart from being too involved again. However, that didn’t happen. 

     My next relationship taught me the true meaning of love. We were long distance which was more challenging than a typical couple, but we made it work. We started off as friends, getting to know each other and talking as if I had known her my entire life. She was the person I could tell anything to and we would just sit and chat for hours about anything. After six months straight of talking on facetime, my feelings had grown into something more. It took me a while to express how I felt because I was scared of being rejected. So, instead of telling her directly, I asked her if she had a crush, a question she was hesitant to answer. Then she turned it on me and asked the same question for which I was hesitant to answer. It took three days of playing twenty-one questions for both of us to finally admit our feelings to each other. I remember the day so vividly, my heart was racing, palms were sweating, and I was hiding under my blanket with a big smile on my face when we both came clean. This was something I had never felt in my past relationship, and it felt great. As our love for each other grew, I started to recognize how a relationship really should be and how it feels when a person means “I love you” and does their best to show it everyday. We have had our ups and downs with each other, but we never gave up. We always talked it through and continued to grow individually and as a couple.  We’ve seen the worst and best moments of each other, made time for us to talk even when we were busy, and always had the best interests at heart for one another. She is the reason my definition of love has changed. 

     Although I am not in that relationship anymore, I learned a lot. I realized my worth and know I didn’t deserve what I got from my first dating experience. When their actions don’t match their words, it’s clear they really don’t care, let alone love. Love is something that is a combination of learning from experience, while still holding on to your personal beliefs as to

what a relationship should be. With each person you are with, it is a whole new journey different from the last, allowing for growth as an individual. I am still young, learning from my mistakes and as I continue to mature, my definition of love will evolve, having more depth each time I come face to face with it.

"Fountain Pen Diplomacy " by Jerry F

     Streaks of emerald green flow smoothly down a piece of rough tan-white papyrus, curving into something much like the resemblance of two olives branches. Cuddled in between the branches, firm streaks of sapphire blue form circle within circle within circle. Within these circles, the same glistening emerald green trails again, painting a myriad of irregular shapes with a collection of small and big blobs scattered across the interior of the large circle. 

     It took many years for me to fully understand the meaning behind this emblem: it was the logo of the United Nations. 

......................... 

     During the scorching summer of 2010, I very reluctantly packed my bags, left everything behind, and moved to a foreign land: Shanghai, China. This would be the first time I would live permanently in another country. 

     When we arrived, I immediately took notice of the differences of this uniquely unfavorable environment I just landed in. As I got off the plane, within 5 minutes, I felt a faint itchiness on my less, arms, neck; before long, I could count two dozen mosquito bites. Outside, there were no clear, blue skies like there were in Dublin (CA), just gloomy, pale gray clouds sitting miserably over us. In fact, I could barely even see the sky; my vision, blurred by the starkness of these giant concrete structures, could see nothing but thick walls of gray and glass. There were no beautiful green lawns that rippled in the wind like there were at home, nor any “roofs” of houses. Worse yet, we didn’t even have a car; we had to wait for taxis and buses. Going to the “Costco” in China, or Carrefour, was a whole day’s job. We had to leave in the morning, hop on the bus, get off, walk, shop, eat lunch, shop more, hop back on the bus during rush hour with our dozen bags of groceries, then walk all the way back home with those groceries in hand. We couldn’t just jump in the car, go to Costco, and leave in two hours. That was a joke. 

     However, over time, I got used to the new environment, and I began to appreciate the little changes in my life. Everyday, I’d go to school without needing my parents to send me. The students all spoke English, and most of my teachers were actually white, much to my surprise. In general, people were much nicer than they were at home, and everyone treated each other like family. Ironically, I felt much more “free” living in China than I did at home. Back in Dublin, I couldn’t leave 100 meters from home by myself without worrying about potentially getting kidnapped or getting sent home by the police, but, in Shanghai, I could ride the subway a whole hour away with my friends feeling completely safe. In addition, I didn’t have to drive to Target to buy myself things; I could just walk to the local store and buy things for myself. After all, life wasn’t as bad as I thought it would’ve been. 

     Some of my biggest passions were also developed in Shanghai, including my love for learning about the world’s history and countries, and my love for fountain pens. Since living in Shanghai, I’ve had an uncontrollable “utensil-mania”; I frequented the ​wen-ju​ (stationary) stores in China almost everyday after school, hoping to pick out a cool pen. I loved to see the cool designs and intricate details of the pens, especially how the inner gears of springs and barrels worked together to produce beautifuls trails of ink; at home, every so often, I would take my fountain pens out of my pencil case and carefully bring them over to the sink to give them a good rinsing and polishing. My classmates always asked me why I treated my “simple writing tools” with so much care. They don’t see what I see. To me, these pens were ​chef d’oeuvres, r​ oyal masterpieces of art waiting to be appreciated. 

     Back in America, my addiction continued as my love for history intensified. I spent hours upon hours researching the history of the fountain pen, the best brands, etc. At school, when I pulled out my fountain pens, students always marvelled at the sight of such an alien product, asking, “Is that a pen?!” Even some teachers who borrowed my pens asked, “How do I even use this thing?” It shocked me. I thought everyone knew what a fountain pen was. In China, my cousins used them; even my friend who came from France said students in France used fountain pens. 

.........................
     
     Years later, looking down at my pen in hand, I am reminded of the challenges that our society still faces. In the beginning, I dreaded the idea of moving to China, and I stuck with a closed mind; however, after having gotten accustomed to the new environment, I came to appreciate the little changes in the environment that made Shanghai the city that I loved. That same ignorance that I had regarding China can be symbolized by the use of a simple pen, that there are still many people who are sheltered from the knowledge of the world, potentially skewing their view of other countries, ultimately creating misunderstandings. In a United, International Community, it is so important for us to know just a little about our neighbors, their traditions, lifestyles, cultures, etc. So, from my experience of living in a developing country, I learned how important it is to be globally aware, to keep an open mind, and to never judge a book by its cover.

"Book Review: Koko Wa Ima Kara Rinri Desu​ " by Alex D

(Just a heads up, the book is fairly dark. So it does need a mature audience for it. Mainly because it goes through such ideas like rape and like mass suicide.Ok well “mass” suicide. You
just have to read it to see what I mean.So just be weary of that.Also if you somehow become interested in the book, there is no physical copies available anywhere in the U.S. that are in english currently. So the only place you can read it online on some sketchy websites.So just be careful of that too. ) 

     Koko Wa Ima Kara Rinri Desu​ or in english ​From Now on We Begin Ethics,​ written by Shiori Amase, is a light novel released in Japan earlier this year.The ongoing novel covers a multitude of conflicts that can be seen throughout the life of any individual. With the conflicts held in the classroom of the main character, ethics teacher Mr. Takayanagi.With the supporting and shifting roles being held by the students of said classroom.With each story arc there is essentially a revolving door of characters with issues that  Mr.Takayanagi tries to fix through the use of ethics and morale.Through this, Amase is able to deliver a master class of work through her use of diction and the believability of the characters.
     Amase’s use of diction is so strong that she is able to give such large feeling of immersion and she is also able to guide the reader through subtle questioning of the readers own ethics. For example, the novel starts off with the idea of “Is a young women actually able to give consent?”. With the issue presenting itself through the rape of the a student in the classroom.This is brought up since the student is seen as a deliquent who has no sense of self respect.Which leads to how Amase is able to portray the emotions of the student so strongly. Amase is able to give the reader a complete change in perspective of the student through her backstory.Her style of writing is able to give such large feelings of empathy and immersion into the story to the point of it feeling as if the reader is present in the story and is going through the same hardships as the characters.Once   Mr.Takayanagi confronts the women being raped, the reader is able to feel every ounce of tension.The reader can see and feel all the guilt, lust and regret in the moment. As the issue continues to develop, so does your ideas of ethics and morality. Which leads to the second point of interest.The use of ethics and morality.Amase is essentially a genius in guiding the reader’s beliefs in both subjects in a way that is non biased and fair to any and all parties involved in the conflict. Amase is able to have the reader question their beliefs and potentially form new ones just by the simple flow of storytelling.It's subtle in the fact but it hits incredibly hard when the conflict reaches its climax.Through this Amase is able to leave the reader with a feeling of completion and resolve over the finished conflict.
     Amase, in such a short amount of time, is able to give such deep and meaningful characters that everyone is able to relate to.For example, Mr.Takayanagi is an overworked man that doesn’t get paid enough.The man is constantly stressed out of his mind since he's trying his best to help every student but each student has such specific needs that it's just overwhelming.Essentially he is overworked and extremely stressed but he is always able to cover it up with a cigarette smoke and a smile.Most people are able to relate to this since most

people are overworked and stressed out but care for others more than themselves so they do all that they can to hide it so no one worries about them.Mr.Takayanagi doesn’t care for himself, he cares for the well being of his students and does anything he can to help them.Another example can be seen with a student who is involved with gangs.They are involved since they wish to be cool and are later forced to do drugs and deliver them.The student just want to fit in and look cool to their older siblings.
     So to stop being so analytical and wordy i'm just going to be speak normally for my evaluation of the book.It is really good. I hate stuff that doesn’t involve some sort of action.Like superhero stuff and shonen anime is the stuff I like the most since there is always something exciting happening and nothing bores me more then some kid trying to find love.Like yes this is relatable but its so played out that it just isn’t fun to read that subject anymore.So when I saw Koko Wa Ima Kara Rinri Desu ​I just thought that it was gonna be a waste of time.But I was so so ​so ​wrong.It drew me in instantly. The first sentence had me hooked. It’s just crazy. It’s a book literally anyone can enjoy and cry over and the best part that it is ongoing.(Even though the time of writing this the Amase is on a hiatus)I don't know what else to say. It’s just really good. Like the entire time I had my jaw dropped since there are so many exciting stuff going on.But to get off my soapbox read Koko Wa Ima Kara Rinri Desu since it’s a book that’ll make you a better person.

"Le Cirque de Nuit " by Rebecca C.

     The Ringmaster appeared in the middle of the circus ring “Bienvenue et Bonsoir, my name is Damien Roux, ringmaster if this circus of night ” he said, Roux was dressed extravagantly, he wore an all-black suit, with an oxblood red cravat held with a pearl pin, his long coat almost touched the ground, it’s buttons sparkled mesmerizingly from the ring, winking and beckoning any that dare come closer; in his right gloved hand he held a silver walking stick and on his fingers sat large gemmed rings, his silk tophat covered his face, making him a harsh shadow against the candlelight. “We do hope you enjoyed yourselves this evening, you see mesdames et messieurs, we are in need of a new performer and thought it might be fun for the candidates to prove themselves in front of you tonight” while he said this a group of people shuffled out in to the ring, they were wearing wool, tan, tartan hunting outfits; their faces obscured by white porcelain animal masks instead of black, “We do hope you enjoy, begin!” barked Roux, performers in white masks began to fight. Most in the crowd laughed, finding the morbidity of the act humorous, only until the performers begna falling over, their masks shattering or falling off their faces did people in the audience begin to shriek and stand and Damien Roux, laugh.
     The act was most certainly not a staged affair and these performers were no mere strangers, they were friends and acquaintances. I heard Jack let out a sob when he saw his

friend Jasper lie crumpled on the floor, streaks of blood coming from his nose and mouth like red silk. The audience began to stand up and rush the tent opening, only to be stopped by the waiters and circus hands in the masks. They through members of the audience to the ground, stepping harshly on legs and arms until the sounds of cracking and soul trembling wails could be heard. In all the commotion I had lost Jack and was calling out for him in the sea of jumbled, panicked bodies; then I saw him, he was through down hard by someone in a fox mask and the sound of ribs breaking filled my ears. I didn’t know what to do, I knew he wouldn't be able to run, his green eyes had already vanished under his eyelids. I let out a shaky breath and looked around the tent walls and saw an opening, a tiny one but it was there. I raced past the demons in masks and stepped over people either wailing or completely silent and slid under the tent wall. I stood and looked wilding about, making sure there was no one outside waiting for any escapees but to my relief I saw none.
The sounds of shrieks and blood-curdling screams, pleads for mercy, now muffled by the black fabric of the tent. The heat of fear and adrenaline being exchanged for the night air, a cutting autumnal chill that would have ran down me if the screams of my friends and acquaintances weren’t already. I looked up at the moon, an eerie white sneering at me between the skeletal hands of the trees.
      My blood drained from my face when I heard the sound of the canvas flapping and I ran, ran faster than my legs would let me or my calfskin boots would let me, but I ran. The fall air whipped my face like icy daggers and twigs and low branches grabbed at my clothes like the hands of those monsters in the tent; kicking up rocks and dirt at I went, I could feel a twig had caught my cheek and the warm blood contrasted with the cool air. I followed the white candles on the branches that guided me and Jack to the circus, “Oh Jack!” I thought, remembering the state I saw him last in, wind whipping my hair, the forest only illuminated by the candles, like the

lights of souls who died in these forest guiding me, helping me out so I wouldn’t meet a fate like they did.
     I came upon a decimated stone building, now only partly standing walls but it was enough to hide so I could catch my breath, my throat and lungs were on fire, my cheeks and hands ached from the lashes the twigs dolled upon me through my frantic dash. I crouched low behind the stone wall and looked out into the forest, a black, inky sea of horror and despair, and to my horror I realized that the candles were not helping me but leading me further into the forest, they were placed on low and high branches, there wax dripping off the branches like tears, like my tears when I realized that they were not my way out but illuminated walls of a hellish labyrinth. I put a hand to my mouth to muffle the sob of realization, the shock was slipping off me like a blanket and I was left with the horrible truth; I heard whoops and hollers all around me, they were bouncing off the trees and ringing all about, I realized in that moment that I had not escaped the hunt but I had initiated it, the masked porcelain devils were the bloodhounds, Monsieur Roux was the hunter and I... I was the fox; so clever I thought, thought that I could get away from such-such fiends; I only realized my mistake, my fatal flaw when I felt an icy hand grab my neck, colder than ice and harder than stone.
     I looked in silent horror at my shoulder and saw the jeweled hands of Damien Roux, and in that moment I could not stop the sob from escaping my lips. “D-devil” I choked out I gripped at my now shredded velvet evening jacket and silk waist coat for condolence but what I found was a gripping terror of the honey voice of the Ring Master and low in my ear he stated with complete amusement, “Now now Mounsier Wells, I am no devil and neither are my children. No, I am something much worse mousier, I am real, I am vampire and now, my child, you will be too; ah yes you will be an excellent son Oliver Wells, excellent indeed”. The last thing I felt was a searing pain on my shoulder and then, the cold dirt ground; looking up at the barren branches

and night sky; in that moment the branches switched from skeleton hands that I presumed were helping point me to an exit of this hellish dream and morphed into a black, monstrous cage, to hold me for eternity in agony and despair; sealed with the gilded Ouroboros on my invitation, my invitation to die; the symbol of eternity, and in a fit of hysteria I laughed a choker, manic laugh. Yes an Ourobors, of course how fitting, the end of all things and the eternity of everything, forever caught in a trap, forever in a cage of night and onyx, forever.

"New Year, New You " by Nathaniel P

     The lights of the city mixed with the full moon reflected off of the rain as it was a mirror. A young man calling from a call booth in the rain, “ Hello, Holly it's me alexander, I don’t know what I did wrong and need to know, please, answer me”. Alexander has been best friends with holly for about 6 months now and they do everything together, It's almost as if they were in a relationship, over these months there was peace and tranquility. After awhile many small fights and dumb decisions started to break them down, until the final straw. 2 weeks ago they went out to a theater to watch a movie, simple right; but it wasn’t how it seemed.
     “Alexander, park here,” said holly, “you need to pay more attention you’re always this oblivious” she gives off a little chuckle, holly was always the type to have those subtle rude things to say but alexander always took it because it’s just how she is. During this hangout alexander was seeing that things were off the whole time, but went along with it, "Hey holly, is everything alright” said Alexander, a bit scared of what she is going to say, “yeah, of course. Why do you care so much?, if something was wrong I would tell you” said holly. Alexander was hurt, confused, just a mix of emotion throughout wondering if he did something wrong, if it was how he said it, or if it's just him.  This was a massive change for alexander because, after months of just shunning how he was feeling, he was going to tell her how he felt about their friendship, and how they need to work things out.
     As the weeks passed by they started talking less and less like they never crossed paths, they sat around and didn’t say a word to each other, there was no more smiles or laughs. Everything was like they never meet and all the memories disappeared into thin air. Alexander was quite a bit of a soft guy and started to write away to tell her how he feels, how he wants to fix their relationship, many tears and torn up paper sheets spread over his blank empty room. He finally sets on one way to tell her, a single piece of paper, thin, wide-ruled paper. He seals it up into an envelope, writes her name is a weird type of cursive and puts it away until he is ready to give it to her in a wooden drawer.
     The more and more time passed it was obvious he was only there for when she wanted to do something, he always asked her to do something or tried to support her and they never did anything. She finally agreed that they should go to the city for new years together. The final night had come, new years eve 1999, the dawn of a new millennium, he took her to the city, around 6 pm to celebrate the new year with her. Once they arrived crystal clear rain started to pour over them and all the rest of the

people. Alexander was making sure she didn't get drenched after she didn't bring a jacket. As the rain seemed to never stop they finally decided to head back to his car until around midnight so they can see the city celebrate. Time passes in the car, many jokes and dumb photos document the night. 10  Minutes till midnight they decide to go back to the city center where everyone will celebrate. The whole city center is packed from the base levels always to the 30th floors of many hotels, they finally decide to pack into a bridge where even more people are shoving themselves to try to see the center.
     2 Minutes from midnight, alexander takes out a letter for holly; she askes "what is this?", alexander responded "Only open it once you get home", she agrees and the clock hits midnight, the whole city bursts in celebration of a new millennia, a new beginning, a "new start", for alexander and holly they were both cheering and uncontrollably screaming like animals with everybody else in the rest of the city. Holly takes out the letter after running out of breath, and asks "why do I have to open this once I arrive home?", alexander responded "No reason, just give it back", holly refuses and starts opening the letter. and reads it to herself... 

     Once the clock hits 12, 
      our world will never have existed; 

     As if time never continued, 
     we will return to the past
     To never have met you will be a challenge but it’s better now for me;
      for you 

     As our walls break down, 
     it’s clear to see;
     there was no relationship just me 

     As when the clock strikes 12;
     Us, You, I never existed. 

     Once She finished reading this, she was agitated and completely confounded on why he gave this to her, she left him in the crowd. alexander worried for her safety looked everywhere for her. he finds a call booth and takes some of his last pocket change to try to call her. The phone keeps ringing and ringing, no answer. It's like she never existed. a New Year, a New You