Fire walk with me

Photo Credit: Wikimedia

During the summer there was only one question on my mind: “who killed Laura Palmer?” The answer to that question can be found in episode 7 of the second season of my favorite TV show of all time, which is the surreal, mesmerizing and fever nightmare “Twin Peaks”. For those unfamiliar with the show -“Twin Peaks” is the brainchild of Mark Frost and David Lynch and it is possibly one of the best mystery drama series on television, and to prove that point, “Twin Peaks” received fourteen nominations at the 42nd Emmy Awards. When it first came out it dared to challenge boundaries of standard television, it had the eeriness of the “Twilight Zone”, the stylishness of “Miami Vice” and “Santa Barbara” relationship drama. The premise of the show is simple: an FBI investigation lead by Agent Dale Cooper is trying to unravel the mystery behind Twin Peaks’ homecoming queen Laura Palmer’s murder. The show isn’t solely one genre, it has elements of crime drama, supernatural elements and is also very campy. Drawing parallels from other works of Lynch, “Twin Peaks” is famous for surreal imagery, offbeat humor, and has a constant feel of violence that swallows you.

I can’t recommend this show enough, so if you have any free time on your hands please do yourself a favor and dive into the minds of Lynch and Frost and the haunting world of Twin Peaks.

Fire walk with me.

Twin Peaks IMDB

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summer loving

Photo Credit: tumblr.com

Summer, I’m going to miss you.

More than the ocean misses the shore.

I’m going to miss

Your eternally messed up sandy hair

Falling on your imperfect face.

The way your eyes remind me of waves,

Dark, deep blue and full of life.

The way your tan, calloused hand fits mine,

While we stroll on the beach,

Getting the insides of our feet scratched up

By the sand.

Our long bike rides on the PCH,

Filled with me falling over and getting scratched up.

Our midnight conversations

Of love, loss, and tacos,

Hidden in fluffy pillows and blanket forts.

The eternal battle of cuddling

Or not sweating for the rest of the night.

The polaroid sessions that will soon

Become only pictures on my wall,

Instead of hours of laughter and music.

The hours of reading poetry by your side,

Breathing in the rhymes and feeling.

The car rides to Safeway and Trader Joe’s

To pick up sunscreen and cheap wine.

The bonfires on the beach, in the backyard,

And by the stove.

The books filled with stories

Just like ours,

But they just don’t capture

The way we loved.

The Netflix movies that

Showed a coffee lover falling for tea drinker

Or a bunch of rebellious teenagers

Falling in love for the first time,

Just like us.

The mornings filled with iced coffee,

But don’t forget the creamer, love.

The study sessions featuring

Paper, paper, and more paper

Waiting to be filled with endless scrawls of notes.

But, most of all, summer,

I’m going to miss the way you made me feel,

The way I was your season of fun,

When we loved like

The ocean loves the shore.

A Montage

I suppose this is the end. My last blog. The last post I write, and the last one I publish. The last piece of writing I do for Ojai Valley School – the place that has taught me how to write.

I came to school my freshman year having written essays before, but only formal, structured pieces for English class. I’ve always been one to write down my thoughts – I carry around a journal and have always documented my raw emotions. But before coming to OVS, I had never shared my writing with others.

Freshman year, I sat down in my first Humanities class, unaware of the flood of writing to come. Reading journals galore, I had little blurbs of writing due once or twice a week. Those reading journals were analytical, but they allowed me to delve into my thoughts and share my own interpretation of the material – something I had never done for school before.

And I think those reading journals, back in freshman year Humanities, bridged the gap between writing for myself and writing for school. And that allowed me to delve into Journalism, which introduced me to writing for others.

Fast forward four years. Here I am, at the end of senior year. Freshman year, I learned the value of my own thoughts in writing. And sophomore year, when I started taking Journalism, I truly learned the wonder of writing. I found my voice, and learned how to tell stories. I learned how to paint pictures of other people’s accomplishments and what goes on around campus. I learned to blog – to write metaphorically, and to eloquently share my deepest, most honest emotions. I truly learned to put my thoughts into words, and to fearlessly share them with the world.

So, again, here I am, writing my last blog post. I have written all sorts of blog posts over the past three years – ones that are funny, sad, sarcastic and honest. And now I have to wrap it up. This is the last thing I will write this year, for any class. The last bit of work I do before I graduate, the last bit of work I do in high school.

That’s pretty crazy.

Today is Wednesday, May 31st. On Friday, June 2nd, I graduate. I’m beyond excited, but also terrified. It doesn’t feel real. I always knew I’d get to this point, but now that I’m here it’s hard to grasp. It’s hard to believe that it’s me. I’m about to graduate high school. I’m about to be in college.

I can’t believe I made it. I know that’s a cliché thing to say, but I really mean it. These past four years have been pretty hectic. But here I am. T minus two days and I’ll be walking across the stage.

And I can’t wait.

I’m sad to be leaving – OVS has done so much for me and I’m going to miss it. All my friends, all my teachers, they’re going to be hard to leave. But OVS has prepared me well for college, and now I’m ready to move forward.

So goodbye and thank you to OVS, to Journalism, and all the writing I’ve done here. It’s the end of an era, and a great one too.

T minus two days.

Photo Credit: i.huffpost.com

homeless

i don’t get how everything i’ve built could be so fragile. just when you think your foundation’s set, an earthquake comes and shakes it. next a huge rainstorm. then a forest fire. or a tsunami. each disaster shakes the very thing you thought was solid. now my house is starting to crumble on contact. the walls a little less sturdy. the ground with a few cracks. but that’s why they call them natural disasters, because they have to happen. except they shouldn’t have to. you were a fire that didn’t naturally arise. you sparked something in me. i thought you were the soft ember in the fire-place, warming the whole house in a crisp, cold night. but you crept and crawled out, until the polished hardwood floor became singed beyond belief.

Photo Credit: chriscrespo.com

you burned everything. engulfed the second floor, filled with broken-down cribs and pictures lining the walls.  you exploded in the kitchen, where everything was black and it wasn’t bad cooking. you burnt the living room, even all the memories made there, the many late nights, turned to dust. you left the backyard, full of brand-new spring blooms, dead. except it wasn’t all you. my house wasn’t fireproof. my foundation wasn’t concrete, it was loose pebbles. my walls were made of rotting wood. you barely made a scratch on my already damaged surface. so, while you sleep in your warm sheets in your warm bed, I’ll be shivering under my army blanket in a foreign homeless shelter, because you destroyed my only home.

The Manchester Attack

Photo Credit: NPR

On Monday the 22nd, a bomb went off immediately after the Ariana Grande concert in Manchester, England. 22 people were killed, and many more injured. Many have speculated this attack was targeted toward women and young girls, as many of Ariana’s fans are female and young. ISIS has since taken responsibility for the attack, and the threat level in the UK has been deemed “critical”.

Since the devastating attack, many have responded to the attack, and while many responded with grief over the lives lost, others used the attack to support their twisted ideas. Daily Mail blamed Ariana for THE DEATH OF 22 PEOPLE because of her CLOTHING.

Image Credit: bishopikediblog

Now, we all know the Daily Mail is a sexist piece of sh*t newspaper that doesn’t possess an ounce of writing talent or substance, but COME ON! Blaming a woman for the death of children and adults because of her clothing? That’s disgusting. The reason 22 people died was because of a terrorist, not Ariana.

Many are also using this attack to fuel the notion that all Muslims are terrorists. An article from the Huffington Post states, “94% of terrorist attacks carried out in the United States from 1980 to 2005 have been by non-Muslims.”

So, let’s be a little smarter, white America.

It’s here! Graduation!


(Photo Credit: http://www.dec.org)

It’s here!… Wait… What? Our class is graduating from high school? That’s not possible, I thought the year just started?

Yes guys, graduation is finally here and this is the last blog I am going to write for the Ojai Valley School Journalism team. For those of you who read my blog one month ago which talked about how graduation is right around the corner, well here we are, just a couple of days away from a huge turning point in our lives.

All those grueling, yet memorable years and the lessons we have learned from our peers and faculty have been, and will forever be, engrained into our hearts. I still remember three months ago, talking to one of my friends about whether or not I’d be able to remember what we had talked about that night. Believe me, I do remember what we talked about, and that moment also taught me that time passes like sand slipping through your hands.

Okay, that’s enough blabbering from me… But I want to wish everybody good luck! It’s been a joy writing blogs for the OVS Journalism team. Here we go!!! It is graduation!!!

left without a choice

we let people change us. from the moment we are born, our lives have a certain path dictated by others, whether you’re premature and in need of immediate surgery or cozily wrapped in a pink or blue blanket. after you go home from the cold hospital, you were placed in a crib and kissed on the head. the people

Photo Credit: wird.com.ua

who brought you home soon tell you what to wear and how to act. this is only reinforced when your teacher tells you to raise your hand and to ask politely to use the restroom. after you outgrow the brightly colored chairs at kindergarten table to a desk at a high school, you start letting your peers decide certain parts of you. they decide where you sit at lunch and who your biology partner is.

and after that you start letting one person decide. this person is commonly known as a spouse, partner, or significant other. you share deep night conversations filled with painful memories or happy ones. what they do with this information is up to them, and you’re allowing them to decide that for themselves. so, what if they pull the trigger, let go of your darkness over dinner cocktails or lunch sandwiches. so what if your leg got bruised when i pushed you around, sweetie? don’t worry, i’m sure a haircut will cover up that broken jaw or that black eye. when you go home, make sure to wear a little more makeup there so your mom won’t notice. you listen to them, curl your hair that way or stop hanging out with that friend.

no wonder 25% of women and one in seven men will be victims of domestic abuse. if you’re shocked, don’t be. we train people from birth how to change for others, but some don’t learn to change for themselves.

romeo lost

poets only write about love and love lost,

but what about the time afterward?

what about the times when i see you my heart breaks,

not because i miss you,

but i miss the feeling of you.

the feeling of you on my neck,

the feeling of you in my arms,

the feeling of you on the other end of the line.

you weren’t a classic romeo.

you were one with trails of cigarette smoke and a bright red motorcycle,

instead of shiny, chain-link armor and a glistening white horse.

Photo Credit: buzzfeed.com

your eyes hold the past.

the past hour-long laughing fits,

the past midnight ice cream runs,

the past nights we slept under the stars.

i wish i could kiss you one more time,

not because i like you,

but because i liked the void you filled.

what about when i see her for the first time, this new me.

Photo Credit: buzzfeed.com

she’s beautiful, blonde, bubbly.

everything that i wasn’t, she is.

she’s willing to go all in. i guess i wasn’t.

i guess i couldn’t stand up when you walked away.

i guess i couldn’t hold you the right way,

because now i’m holding empty space.

my bed is empty to my left because i can’t bear to roll over in case you’ll come back.

because sometimes i open old, dusty copy of shakespeare’s sonnets,

and imagine you in every one.

i wish he wrote about how to pick up the pieces when you’re broken,

because i keep cutting myself on broken glass.

Nicki the Fairy Godmother

On Saturday night, Nicki Minaj took to Twitter to do a little gift giving for some of her followers. On May 5, Minaj released the “Regret In Your Tears” music video, which is from her upcoming album. The day after, she challenged her fans to make Musically’s to her song, and the person with the best submission would get to fly out to LA to listen to some of the unreleased album. After getting flooded by submissions, @cjbydesign asked Minaj to pay for her college tuition instead of flying her to LA. The response she got was quite a surprise.

“Show me straight A’s that I can verify w/ ur school and I’ll pay it. Who wants to join THAT  contest?!?! Shld I set it up?” Minaj tweeted back.

Almost like wildfire, fans started tweeting at her to pay for various school fees, some for tuition, summer programs, student loans, and even their bills! After a dozen or so responses, Minaj loosened up on the requirements. She started giving hundreds to people who just needed the money.  At the end of the night, she had helped nearly 30 people pay for various educational expenses.

Like anyone, Minaj had to stop the contest at some point, as she can’t pay for every request. She didn’t want to leave her fans hanging though, and promised to do another spree in a few months.

As seen by the many tweets, Minaj spent at least $30,000, not to mention the various costs she discussed privately with some fans. This just goes to show that it really does pay off to get good grades in school.

College (and Life!) Bound

There comes a time in every senior’s career when they have to start picking colleges. Now, I’m far from being a senior, but I started thinking about colleges after going to the East Coast during spring break. Through all my time thinking about location, majors, and programs, one thing has stuck with me.

my dog eating a tangerine
Photo Credit: breakthroughmiami.org

How are we, as children, supposed to decide the course of our lives? When someone chooses a college, they chose their connections, their future job opportunities, and many other hidden factors. When we choose a major, we cut off most of our time to explore other subjects of thought.

Picture this: You walk in to Ms. Oberlander and Mr. Alvarez’s college meeting.  You sit down, take out your laptop, and open Naviance. You take a look at the colleges you’re thinking about. UCSB, Chapman, Harvard, or Yale. You have your target schools, but you know in your heart you’re dying to go to your reach school. You raise your hand to go to the bathroom, interrupting Ms. Oberlander’s speech about freedom.

It’s a little ironic. When most students go to college, they don’t know how to handle themselves. Just three months before freshman orientation, they still had to ask to use the restroom. They still had their parents doing their laundry and making them dinner. Teachers still told them how to dress, how to act. At OVS, we have the unique opportunity to learn some of the skills most college students lack so that we are more prepared to take on this new challenge.

However, OVS (and any school for that matter) can’t prepare us for what’s out there. It can’t prepare you for the choice between going to class or playing video games. It can’t prepare you for the people who will hurt you or how to make friends. They can only cross their fingers and hope you succeed.