I need to study a whole lot. This weekend is coming up and I’m so excited. Studying for exams has to be my favorite pass time ever, with a pencil, paper, and a computer I could study the rest of my life away. Personally, my favorite class to study for is math, I love memorizing all the formulas and everything in between. My favorite class is Algebra 2 and I’m soooooo good at it. I’m definitely one of the best in the United States, if not the whole world at Algebra 2. If you were to give me the hardest Algebra 2 problem in the world I would be able to solve it in sub 30 secs. Anyway, super hyped for all my ap tests and I’m definitely going to try my hardest to score a 5 on my upcoming AP Spanish exam, for some reason, they thought that I slept through my APES exam but that is a lie.
This is the fifth post I’ve written in one sitting, I’m pretty sure this makes me up to date… I’ll ask Alula since she seems to be the only one counting. I think I’m going to clean my room after work today. It desperately needs it, fortunately for me I love cleaning my room, I think the transition from a complete mess to a space that people want to be in is spectacular. It’s not even just the before and after, I really like picking this up, organizing, and throwing things away like the whole process is good.
Ok, im back at home, it’s like 8:30, I’m not going to clean cause im tired but I think I’ll do some work in the morning and then finish it off tomorrow night. I’m going to watch Scent of a Woman and see if it’s actually good, prob won’t be. Alright, I think that’s just about enough words and I don’t really want to be doing homework anymore so I’ll see you next week. Maybe. More likely in a couple weeks when I have to catch up on a bunch again.
Hello and welcome back to Emanuel’s blogs. One hundred and fifty words of free thought so that he doesn’t get zeros on them. He being me, I am he, there is only me. Anyway, I love garage sales, it’s like modern-day exploring. Today I got a carabiner watch and a point-and-shoot camera. The camera is a Canon Powershot SD600 I like the way it looks and feels in my hand. It has a tiny viewfinder which I think is cool. I don’t have a charger for it but Ben does so I’ll go over to his house after work and pick that up probably.
I’m so done with school, I know this is a fairly universal feeling for seniors in their last month of Highschool but holy moly it’s getting to be a lot. Something about listening to the junior talk about college as if it’s the most important thing ever really bothers me. Like why are they so keen to change who they are to fit into a school, every single one of them is incredibly smart and industrious and interesting but for some reason they have this competitive, verging on toxic, view of the college process. Like if they would just be themselves they would probably do better than when they all freak out about how to curate the application to a school.
I love old technology. The analog feel of buttons and dials under my finger, the lights of a stereo amp, the crackle of vinyl, and the warped sound of an overplayed cassette tape––all create beauty we so often lose in the digital world. The beauty of chaos, the unorganized, and the functionless. These devices hold value in their aesthetics but also through the stories that define them.
Such objects fill my room with stories from my own life and the countless others they’ve encountered. Next to my bed sits a CRT TV I found abandoned on the road. It works surprisingly well for a piece of technology made before Facebook, though, like the person who left it behind, not many would think much of it. It’s been replaced by two decades of 4K ultra-HD developments, which produce bigger, brighter images. Why would anyone watch a special effects masterpiece on something with the quality of a cave painting and a screen smaller than a shoebox?
I see its beauty though, the way it needs to warm up before turning on, the way it cracks and clicks when you try to push its archaic buttons, and the decaying colors of the few remaining VHS tapes, long-forgotten.
I imagine this TV didn’t change hands many times. It was probably bought new at Radio Shack in Ventura, six years before I was born. It probably sat in someone’s living room playing movies for their kids on family game night, and then their grandkids, and then it probably sat in the garage taking up space until they finally decided the black hunk of metal, glass, and plastic was an eyesore whose good days were as long gone as its remote. Now it sits as an exhibit in my room, a reflection of others’ memories and a piece of art for me to admire.
Like this old TV, I, too, can easily be overshadowed by things bigger and brighter. I surf with more passion than I’ve ever felt before, but by most standards, I’d be considered unremarkable.
Surfing’s the scariest thing I’ve ever encountered: walls of water like moving mountains, foam like a powerful avalanche, a board that goes from being your greatest ally to greatest enemy the moment it’s freed from your grip. Is the feeling of a wave worth the pain of falling? Often, it is. Small waves, no biggie, a couple seconds of being under frigid water, and then you paddle back out and try again. But when the waves become giants and the board a brute-force weapon, that fall begins to exceed your limits.
I remember going out on a day with waves far beyond my skill set—Goliath and Polyphemus in watery form. Before I even paddled for a wave, a set came in. The first wave blocked the sun as it groaned past me, the second feathered as I crested its peak, the third, I wasn’t so lucky. The avalanche hit me, immediately tearing the board from my hands. The wave was now groaning on top of me, thrashing my body like a ragdoll in a washing machine. Then, it was over. The wave passed, and I was okay. So what pushes me to surf in these conditions? I think it’s because putting myself in places beyond my skill set and comfort, where I’m deeply flawed, has shaped me. I find love and beauty in the places where I know I’ll fall, for it’s there that I find who I am.
I climb, hike, surf, and run, but most athletic is an unlikely yearbook superlative.
Like the TV, I, too, crack and click when I’m pushed too hard. If all that made me was performance, I, too, would be left on the street without a second thought, but I am my story not my statistics. I too, have beauty, which lies not in my achievements but in my imperfections.
Just got these fire sweats by the brand sp5der. The brand was created by popular rapper THUGGER, aka Young Thug aka YSLSHLAT, aka Mr 🅿️ himself. Young Thug who is originally from Atlanta Georgia has a bunch of great hits, such as Pick Up the Phone, Digits, and Relationship. However, he was locked up in 2022 for a R.I.C.O charge, along with fellow rapper Gunna and other members of their group labeled “YSL” which stands for “Young Slime Life”. However, Gunna snitched and is now out and Young Thug is facing possible life in prison.
His clothing brand has been popping off and the sweatsuits are very comfortable and they look good. I personally got the slime green suit, which features the sp5der logo on the front of the sweats upside down, the hoodie that has a spider web on it, and the sp5der logo. If you see me on campus you know imma to be stuntin’, cmon now.
I’m very excited to be back in my element this weekend. Me originally being from the ghetto, hood, mud, etc. It can be rough for the realest person from these types of areas to come up to communities such as these and fit in. However, spring break has allowed me to return to the hood and have fun. I will also be able to see one of my favorite rappers this weekend, he goes by the name R3dachilliman. He’s made songs like Blamp Camp, Woc Pint Freestyle, and Ice. Im planning on taking my friends from the suburbs to let them see what a real party is like. However, it can be dangerous at these parties so you need to act right and be in check, therefore I will be putting my friends in training the day before. This training will consist of how to act if someone comes up to you and says “Where you from”, or if someone yells at you from across the street “Lemme holla at you real quick!” These will just be a few of the things I will be training them for, but it will be fun!
I picked up a new PS4 2 weeks ago, Throughout the last week and a half I’ve been spending too much time and money on this device. It’s been over two years since I had my last one, so I’ve been catching up on everything that I missed. Fifa has got to be one of my favorite games at the moment, I play it almost every day. Before almost every soccer match, I play a game of Fifa and envision myself doing the same thing I do in the game. I’ve also been playing a game called Overwatch, which I played for most of my childhood. This game was recently revised and now it is Overwatch 2 which has gotten some criticism because people loved the Original version. At first, I was opposed to the new game as I missed the nostalgic feeling that I got from the original Overwatch, however, as I play the game more I begin to appreciate the game more.
My favorite player of all time is Neymar Junior. I grew up watching and idolizing Neymar even though he played for a team called Santos which was not my hometown team, I still loved him. When he made his significant transfer to Barcelona in 2013, people began to catch onto his skill and Brazillian flair. He’s one of the most fun players to watch with his flashy skills and funny dances when he scores, he’s one of the best dribblers to ever touch the ball. The way he controls the ball is beautiful and he has solidified himself as the 3rd best player of our generation. Even though he’s been criticized for things and has had a few scandals in the past he’s a great player and a great person and has his own charity organization based in his hometown of Sao Paulo. I love him as a person and a player, and I’m so glad I grew up watching and idolizing him.
My fascination with eating disorders was sparked when one of my closest friends developed severe anorexia several years ago. She almost died before getting the right treatment. Thankfully, she has recovered now, but her illness really got me thinking. I’ve come up with this theory, and someone is yet to prove me wrong. It’s this – everyone is a victim to disordered eating.
I know what you’re probably thinking: “No, not me, I don’t starve myself.” But it’s not just anorexia I’m talking about. I don’t just mean any eating disorder that you’ve heard of or that has a label for. In fact, maybe it’s not a full-blown eating disorder at all, but some level of disordered eating. There are these little quirks people have with their diets, which may not reach the extent of malnutrition, but nonetheless prevent an entirely healthy relationship with food.
I’ll give you some examples because you can’t have a theory without evidence. My grandmother weighs out her muesli each morning to the recommended serving, a friend of mine feels guilty to be eating if she hasn’t exercised that day, and my dad forces himself to polish off every morsel left on his plate. I’ve noticed parents who never stray from their healthy foods, a boy at my school who loads his plate with hamburger patties in order to “bulk up”, and a long list of girls my age who skip breakfast because they apparently don’t feel hungry in the mornings. The list goes on and on.
I love stories. I always have. I love people, movies, TV shows, songs, artworks, and especially works of literature that tell good stories.
In my early years, my favorite stories were The Hungry Caterpillar and The 12 Dancing Princesses (the book, not the movie). As a child, my favorite stories were Scooby-Doo and the bridge in “Shake It Off”. In middle school, I fell in love with the stories my English teacher told about his students in the Oakland ghetto and New York Times articles. Now, I find solace in the poetry of Rupi Kaur and the film, When Harry Met Sally (which is, in my opinion, one of the best rom-coms ever made). These are just a few of hundreds, maybe thousands, of stories I have encountered and retained over my 16 years.
What makes a story good, I wonder. I would like to say it’s all about how it is told – the language, imagery, etc – but I actually think that is not always the case. Sometimes, poor acting, an unimpressive screenplay, or a bad melody are of no importance if the storyline itself strongly resonates with me. I don’t mean to say that a mediocre story can’t be told in a way that turns it into something incredible. What I mean is that an incredible story cannot (easily) be turned into something mediocre.
I’ll give you an example. The Old Man and the Sea, by Ernest Hemmingway, has an incredibly simple premise: a Cuban fisherman in his attempt to catch a giant marlin. And yet, it is so effectively written and constructed that we remember this book as one of the great pieces of literature. On the other side of the spectrum, the Harry Potter movies, in which (let’s be honest) the children actors hardly live up to their roles, have still seen unprecedented success. Why? Because J.K. Rowling’s phenomenal story trumps any criticism.
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