I am laying on a reclined chair. There is a garbage bin right in front of me. There are two garbage bins, one recycling, one standard, in the corner of the room far to my right. There is a garbage bag about 45 degrees to my right and two meters away. What appears to be a garbage bin is, in fact, my backpack for the day, storing, my homework. There is a table with in front of me with papers, a calculus books, a calculator and two raw pieces of artichoke. There is Mr. Kim sitting at his desk typing up homework for one of his classes. He just looked at me. He did it again. It’s as if he knows that I just typed his name. After a year in this class, I noticed there is a plant in a basket hooked above his chair.
The pencil would move, stop, scratch a line, drop. Pinched in between the thumb and the index finger, it would perform a graceful salto around the hand, transitioning to a fervent Irish jig on paper. The tip would go up and down with a feverish pace, unsure of where it will land next. Pause. A set of teeth biting into it in a great distress, reluctant to let go. But the time is pressing and the writing must continue. Graphite meets paper again, leaving a part of itself anywhere it goes. In this manner, it keeps on going until it runs out of either time or life.
The clock shows 7 on the hour hand, 25 on the minute hand, and… never mind, it’s now 26 on the minute hand and about 30, 31, 32 I gotta race the clock, 41 seconds and it’s already not true. Oh, it’s also 27 minutes now. Give me a couple more minutes and this blog will be filled with 250 words. It just…takes some time. Something like 55 seconds, no, more like, 28 minutes and 15 seconds. Oh my, I just noticed there is another clock in Mr. Westcott’s classroom and it display an entirely different time. It also does not produce the tick tock sound – the hands seamlessly travel through time and space, without any apparent jumps. For some reason, I am starting to get annoyed by the tick the former clock makes. It is periodic, almost meditative, but it’s causing me some sort of insanity – an exponentially increasing hatred towards the clock. Tick tock tick tock tick
What’s up with that bathroom near the Chemistry lab? It has been “occupied” for nobody knows how long. Here is a theory: what if someone is just taking a really really really long poop? Perhaps they had too much orange chicken and doomed themselves to this inglorious battle, fighting it alone, without no one to support them in the time of need. Or maybe their enemy is of a different nature. Could it be that it was just another poop, not different from the rest, but they had opened TikTok and simply cannot stop scrolling. Without food, water, or rest, they have been instead consuming the never-ending supply of content, unable to interrupt this descent into hell. It’s time to break the door and set them free.
Do not read the following blog. It has no purpose, no story, no message, absolutely nothing.
So, please click the back arrow in the top left of your screen to exit and return to your previous website, or if you wish to close the tab completely, please click the X on the top of your current tab.
If you are still reading this, you haven’t followed my warnings or instructions at all, so I will say it again.
This blog contains nothing.
It has no fun story for you to enjoy, no gossip about how I am feeling, and no updates on anything going on in the world. It has nothing.
So save yourself the time and click off of this website and go do something productive with your time. You can do this by closing this tab and going to any other website, app, or social media.
This is your last chance to close off this tab before you waste any more time while reading this post.
I’ll wait………
What a stubborn person you are. I continue to read even after I told you so nicely that the blog has no purpose.
Im not sure why you keep on reading this yet you do. maybe its because your stubborn or maybe your just curious. regardelless its pointless.
I hope you have enjoyed wasting your time reading nothing.
I feel like the system of college applications is so interesting. It’s crazy how much time, effort, money, and well-being people put into working towards the standard of what is considered a “solid” application. There are so many aspects of one’s application, too, that require so much of everything listed above. First, of course, are the grades. GPA, AP Test scores, and SAT/ACT scores are all big factors in how a student is portrayed academically, which I think is such a lame system. Basically, even if a student performs well in an in-class environment and puts in a bunch of effort in their homework and learning the material, ultimately, a lot of it depends on whether or not they are a good test taker. If not, because so many of the massive assessments of one’s grade are based on how well they perform on tests, a good student may seem on the outside to be one who barely puts in time and doesn’t care about their academic standing. Next is the college essay. I have heard too many horror stories about how the best writers come out with pretty awful essays that do not represent them well as writers or even as a person, just because of the stress the system puts one under to come out with such a magnificent piece of writing. On top of the grades and essays, you have all of the many extracurriculars. If you weren’t already burnt out trying to put in effort for school as well as lead a normal social life and give yourself time to rest, there are a million other things that “good and successful” students that want to get into a top-notch college should be doing with their time. Some of those include being in Student Council, a part of school programs such as Student Leadership or Dorm Prefects, participating in in-school programs such as Journalism or Yearbook, varsity or club sports, community service hours, and even holding a stable part-time job on top of it all. In my mind, it just seems like so much pressure to put on teenagers, half of them are not even sure what they want to do the rest of their lives. So now, they are putting in everything they have just to get accepted into the best university or college they possibly can. And the thing is, half of those top-notch places are not even worth the hype, at least in my opinion. So many people are striving to get in just because of the name or the reputation that barely holds any weight in the long run. I feel like I could talk about this process for actual hours, but it is something I am passionate about just considering it is such a big part of my and a lot of people’s lives around me.
I am not sure if I have ever been as stressed about school as I am now. The combination of APs and finals is going to kill me in about a week if I do not start feeling better about any of it. My first AP test is next Friday, followed by three more next week, two of which happen to be on the same day. Following that, there is a single week until finals, which makes me want to die. Half of my AP teachers don’t even care that we just took the AP exam and are still going to give out final exams for the class. I want to take extra time to put in extra review for my exams coming up, but I am just so burnt out from all of the regular work my classes are assigning that I do not physically have time to do that if I want to maintain a decent status of my mental well-being. I miss being a freshman. I miss my biggest concern being my humanities reading journals. I miss barely studying for tests and still receiving good grades. Now, school is just about tough exams and how that affects college, which only puts millions of tons of pressure on the students. It’s all so stupid and annoying.
In 8th grade, my friend Livia who lives in Mississippi arranged a trip after graduation to a mall town on the Gulf Coast of Florida. This town is called Seaside and it was amazing. I went back to Seaside after school got out last year. I just went with Livia, and it was amazing, but this year, I am going with the original group, and it is going to be so much fun. I literally can’t wait. Whenever I shop for summer clothes I always think about wearing those clothes in Seaside. Seaside has a lot of teens and there are gatherings at night where I have met people that I still talk to. Basically, we spend all day biking around and tanning at the beach, and then we go to dinner and, after dinner, get ready to go to the nightly beach get-together. Even though I have only been twice it feels like I know Seaside like the back of my hand.
Happy birthday to the most amazing person in the world. 51 years around the planet is definitely something to celebrate. All the knowledge and wisdom you’ve acquired all those years leading up to this moment, to me. You’ve taught me everything I know and molded me into the person I am today. I am you, the smaller more insecure, naive, stupid version of you. The angrier, uncontrollable, sadder version of you. People keep telling me to write my feelings down as if it’s going to change something, as if they won’t read this and be judgy or worry, this isn’t for you.
People speak very highly of you, but there were not many celebrating today. I know you were just like every year, but this year was special because you are finally at peace.
You never could sing, but that never stopped you. You were an amazing dancer though, everyone said so. The party never started till you got there, you had this aura this energy that drew people to you. You were the light. Your smile never failed to help people, you were always there for them. I won’t say You never got mad or angry because you did, but you were never irrational and you hated it. You were the best of the best and I don’t think you ever knew it. You were such an amazing person that there are not enough words in any language in the world to describe you. You always made people laugh, me most of all. You always had the right words, I never knew how. It felt as if you had been practicing what to say for years, you solved all my problems and always did it with a smile. I lived life happily knowing anything I needed absolutely anything, you were there. You were my safe space, my joy honestly you were that to everyone. I wish I was more like you, I wish I was with you. I feel bad for those who’ve never met you because they’ve missed out on knowing the most wonderful, considerate, lively, strongest, and most amazing person in the history of the world. It was such a blessing, a gift to know you 18 of those beautiful 51 years. Fly high and Happy birthday Papa, te amo.
OVS Journalism Blog 
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