Jay and Nick

     Here's the thing about Jay Gatsby. He seems like a really cool guy. To the general public, he seems secure in himself, rich, confident, and the pretty much the greatest guy ever. Which he sort of is. Ish. The real truth is (and I believe this is true for many men) that he is actually very insecure. We get a real example of this when he sees Daisy again. He gets SO nervous, and when she finally comes he works so hard to show her all his great stuff, to show off his wonderful life. He doesn't think that just himself in the flesh will be enough. I think he is a sensitive guy hidden behind his money.
     Sooo, when he strikes up a friendship with Nick, at first it seems like, "Ohh this is so cool, Nick and Jay are gonna be friends now, what a nice guy". But Nick notices something underneath his understanding style and confidence. He sees him thinking hard about every word he's saying, which is something I'm sure you'd have to do if you were trying to give a false impression to the world. It's really hard to judge someone when you don't know what they're truly like.
     My first impression was that Jay was an awesome guy and that he really wanted to be friends with his next door neighbor. Then, when he asked Nick to invite Daisy over, I thought maybe he was just using Nick to get to her. But also here's the thing. I think maybe originally that was his plan, to just use Nick, but when people are around each other a lot, many times I think they don't really have a choice but to become friends. Either that or to hate each other's guts. In the case of Gatsby and Nick, I think they're going to develop a real friendship, or at least a respect for each other that they have for no one else. There's something special about scheming together, even if it's mostly just one person's plan. Even though Gatsby almost tricked Nick into starting the whole thing, they're in it together now. I think they'll stick together.

A Winter Poem

Cold

So cold

Hungry

So hungry

Driving past, turn up the heat

Frost on my lashes

Warmth fogging up their windows

Solid breath in air

Cold

So cold

Shop windows filled with gifts

Bins filled with gifts too

Rooting to find something special

You can just buy it

I have to find it

The most wonderful time of the year

The coldest time of the year

Warm bed

Cold stone

Warm comforter

Cold wool

Warm bath

Cold snow

Cold

So cold

Don't stare

I know what I look like

Don't hold your breath

I wish I could too

Pine trees in your homes

Pine trees in my homes

This park is my home

Don't tell anyone

Cold

So cold

Thank you

Thank you for your dollar

Your pity dollar

Pity I don't need

Keep driving

Thankful for what you have

What I don't have

Driving past, turn up the heat

Frost on my lashes

Warmth fogging up your windows

Solid breath in the air

And cold

So cold

The Trick to Writing

     The trick to writing? Oy vey, if people knew that, there wouldn't be any bad writers, would there? The trick to writing....that is a very intense question. I would say that the trick to writing is to put meaning into the words. To put feeling and emotion into the words. No one wants to read some dry peace of literature that doesn't mean anything. The more invested the writer is in the work, the better it is for the reader. If the writer is interested in what they are writing, hopefully the reader will be as well.
     It really doesn't matter if you have good technique, or even good spelling or grammar. It helps of course, because then the reader won't be distracted from taking in what they're reading, but if the emotion's there, it should be pretty good.
     Even as I'm writing this I'm deciding to contradict myself. I do that all the time. But the thing is, sometimes you just can't stand the person writing. Someone could be writing something emotionally and be completely invested in it, and someone else could read it and think, Ugh, this person is so annoying. But then again, does that mean it's good writing, because it caused someone to have a reaction? Maybe. I don't know. How are you supposed to answer this question??
     I'm going back to my original plan. If you care about what you're writing about and you put real emotion into it, you will be able to write something decent. Then there are things you can do to make it even better, with grammar and punctuation and phrasing and stuff, but all that really matter are the basics. The important stuff.

I Am Thankful For....MONICA!!

     Monica. What a beautiful name. What a beautiful person. The name Monica comes from a Greek word (how fitting, seeing as I am Greek) meaning solitary. That is so beautiful. Solitary, single, independent. Not that she's single, really (RYAN), but she's her own independent person. She is smart and strong and vivacious, and she manages to wear a stunning smile every single day.
     I am so grateful for that smile. I know I can always count on Monica, no matter what, to make me feel better. Every single day. American Lit being the first class - which is always a bummer, since everyone's feeling like, "Aww man, the last thing I wanna do right now is leave my warm, comfortable bed and go sit in some class reading some boring book about a house *AHEM*" (just kidding Mr. M) - it's sometimes hard to be cheerful and concentrated. Monica always lifts me up. When I see her face I cannot help but smile. She puts me in a better mood just by being there.
     And did I mention she's brilliant? If I don't understand something, or I need help answering a difficult question, she is always more than generous. She always has a great idea in that beautiful head of hers. She sees things in a way that sometimes I just don't see. She is the perfect person to have in an English class. When I sit next to her, I know she will have something intelligent to add to the conversation. Ahhhhh I'm smiling just writing this! I love that girl. I love to listen to her talk, and hear about her life. I love that she can speak Spanish so beautifully and that she has an amazing Panamanian family. She gets to live two worlds, and she shares her stories. She is a wonderful, cultural, talented girl. She can sing and play the guitar. She plays better than I do, and I've been playing twice as long. She's amazing. I learn so much from her every day.
     And her blogs! They're so well written and funny, and creative and smart. Oy vey, I sound like I'm smitten. Which I am :) I'm so glad I know Monica and am in her class. I love talking to her and working with her and laughing with her. I feel like we really have a connection, which is something everyone needs. When we watched the Crucible in class, we were both trying not to cry. We decided we were going to have a Crucible party at her house and eat pizza and cry together at the end. This is the sort of person I love to be with. Someone who is not afraid to be herself and speak her mind, and who has the bloom of love and happiness in her. She adds so much to my life, and I am so, eternally grateful for her.
     I LOVE YOU MONICA, MI AMIGA HERMOSA!!

I am a plow

     The farmer pushes his plow. Push, push. He pushes all day. It's hot outside. He's hot. The sun beats down on his shining head, the sweat trickles down his temple. The day is hot and dry.
     His ears pick up the distinct sound of the woodpecker, pecking away at the skin of the tree across the field. He stops. He listens. He closes his eyes and his mind floats, his entire soul floats. He is that mockingbird. But reality snaps him back. He plows.
     The farmer pushes his plow. He pushes, rows upon rows, he must finish before dusk falls. He has no choice. This is his life. He pushes until he has blisters on his hands. He feels the tender skin, longs for a time when he must plow no more. He closes his eyes and his mind floats, his entire soal floats. He is holding his hands under the cool, clear water. He hears the woodpecker pecking. He opens his eyes. He plows.
     Mid-afternoon, she comes to him. She brings him water to drink and food to eat. He sits with her in the shade of the woodpecker's tree. He leans against her, his rock, his light, his life. He loves her. He wishes he could sit there forever. He does not want to plow. But he plows.
     The farmer pushes his plow. He pushes until his day's work is done. The day's labor is finished, he can go home. But he must push the plow to it's resting place. He cannot leave it out. It is a burden he would rather not care for. But he pushes. He places it in it's bed, it's home, it's barn. It sits in the dark. It waits for morning.
     The farmer pushes his plow. Push, push. He pushes all day. He hates his plow. He depends upon his plow. He loathes his plow. He loathes his plow. He loathes his plow.
     I am a plow. The last wanted. The least preferred. I am the plow, that inconveniences the life around me, yet for some incomprehensible reason, I hold on still. They hold onto me, and I cling to them like a life-line. I do not want to be forgotten in the dark. I want to be reawoken each morning. But no one wants to awake me. Yet they come for me, each morning. They cannot live without me. I am a plow. Don't forget me.

Changes in the Classroom?

     I totally love this class. I love our discussions and our opportunity to chose our own book for independent reading. I love how we get homework that is beneficial to us without causing us to fall over dead with exhaustion and boredom. It's a really awesome credit. Soooo, you should probably give me some extra credit now, Mr. McCarthy..... :) Just kidding.
     But seriously. This class is da bomb. With a "d". One thing I think would be a nice change is if we, um, AHEM AHEM, changed the book we are currently reading, The House of the Seven Gables. It's a...uhh...very....riveting book...with great description and....detail. It's a great book. If you're blind. Just kidding. Sorry, that's not funny. Especially if you're blind....yeeahhh...
     Since I can't think of anything to change in this class, I shall speak of other classes. Or just school in general.  I think we should have current events. Tons of people (including myself) don't know what the heck is going on in the world, and that problem could be remedied if we talked about it in class. I don't think we should get really deep into it, but talking about a piece of news every day or something would be nice.
     I also think we should get less homework (duh, of course). But honestly, I believe half of the homework teachers give us is just busy work that actually decreases our learning capacity. Doing homework takes away time we could be sleeping, and sleeping is ESSENTIAL to learning, and health. Homework is devastating to our health. The end. Of my blog.
     Also I enjoy canoles.

Modern Day Slavery

     This is going to sound so terrible. So don't judge me till I'm done explaining. For my entire life, I've known that slavery is awful. I've known that people were mistreated for years, and what a miracle it was for slaves to be freed. But I've known it like I know the sky is blue. I never actually thought about it. Oh okay, slavery, yeah that sucked, thank God we had Abraham Lincoln, right? I never really, really thought about what it meant. Then, a few weeks ago (I don't remember what brought it up), it hit me. Slavery. People owning people. The idea that ANY human is better than another, enough to feel that they can literally own, like a piece of clothing, someone. To make them do all their work. To scold them. To beat them. It's sick. I know it's absolutely horrible that I've just come to that realization, but that's just how it happened. Maybe because slavery has been taught about at school, sort of as a time period almost, rather than getting into the personal aspect of it.
     I know that slavery is illegal now. I know there aren't slaves in the United States like there were hundreds of year ago, humans that are owned by other humans to do their strenuous work. There's no such thing. But that does not mean there aren't other types of slaves. By definition, a slave is a person who is the property of and wholly subject to another. A bond servant. So no, there aren't slaves like there were years and years ago. But there are still slaves. Slaves to addiction. Slaves to work. Slaves to each other, even still. There are things people do to each other that are too horrible to even imagine. Kidnapping and rape and sex slaves. This all exists, and it is in its own way a form of slavery. Yes, we outlawed slavery. Yes, things are way better than they were. But we still need to watch. We need to watch to make sure these things don't continue to go on in the world. Because it's slavery.