P!nk

Daphne PsaledakisLeave a comment

Four years ago, I was watching the Grammy’s with my mom, and saw what I thought was the most amazing performance I had ever seen – or was going to see. P!nk sang her song, “Glitter in the Air,” meticulously while doing acrobatics in midair. I’m not joking. That takes some serious skill, and I was properly impressed.

Of course, P!nk is not exactly one to slack off after delivering only one stellar performance, so she set about proving me wrong two years later during the 2012 American Music Awards, where she executed a flawless ballet routine with a partner to her popular song “Try.” The performance showcased her incredible talent, strength, and flexibility. All while singing. When I thought I would never see a more impressive performance than “Glitter in the Air,” two years prior, I had most definitely been wrong.

Then P!nk went and broke her own personal awesome performance record during this years Grammy’s. She combined her two previous performances, set to her song “Try.” But she didn’t stop there, and she went on to sing her song “Just Give Me a Reason,” with Nate Ruess. In all, the performance was incredible.

I was so impressed with these performances that I sent the three links to my dad – who had an appropriate reaction: “She is a badass.” That about sums it up. And if you haven’t seen the videos, go see them.

Shadow

indigoshellLeave a comment

It’s a snake. She’s black too, but the kind of black the night sky is. She’s dark. She’s vivid. She’s powerful.

She’s real. She can never leave you, and sometimes, you want her to leave you. She can be your strength, and she can be your weakness.

She speaks your mind when you lose it, she’s there when your sibling’s a bother, she’s there when you don’t understand something.

She fights. She will fight hard, and when you think she’s done fighting, she will fight even more.

Her enemy is Conscience. Conscience makes her mad, and Conscience makes her strong. She fights Conscience with all she has.

The longer she fights, the less control she possesses. She looses herself in an effort to protect, she grows stronger and out of control.

Fangs, venom, whipping tail, flared hood, she fights Conscience and eventually she fights you. Your body turns from heavy to angry.

She is Anger. Anger must be held back. She must be held back. Nothing can hold back Anger.

She rises, hissing, spitting, glowing, menacing, fighting Conscience and fighting you. She’ll fight you and everyone and everything around you.

DESTROY

Her Anger will infect you.

ATTACK

You will be a danger to be around.

KILL

You can’t fight fire with fire. You must drown it with water.

Imagine never finding water.

The Battlefield 4 Youtube Controversy

infamousdolphinLeave a comment

Over the course of the past three months, gamers and fans of the Battlefield franchise have repeatedly bashed Electronic Arts for releasing a clearly unfinished product.

However, the so-called “Battlefield community” is now taking blows at innocent Youtubers, who have been falsely accused of breaking FTC guidelines and changing their opinion for EA’s money.

After an article claiming that Youtubers with over a million subscribers had an undisclosed contract with EA to avoid giving negative reviews of the product was released, most Battle-fielders were quick to react.

However, after listening to the You-tubers’ testimony, it is clear that this article was fabricated. The You-tubers only took part in EA’s Ronku project which did not forbid them to give negative reviews of the game.

Conscience

indigoshell1 Comment

It’s a butterfly. It’s black, all black, with misty, soft, glowy, fuzzy edges, like the edges of a shadow.

You can’t really hear it, it’s there. You begin to let your guard down, it’s there. You let your mind wander, it’s there.

It speaks to you. Stop trying, it says, you don’t need to be with others. Just go, it says, just go alone, sit alone, eat alone.

So you go alone. You sit alone, You eat alone. Then you leave alone.

It flies next to you. You don’t need to look up, it’s just there. It grows. It always grows. It lands on your shoulder, your head, your chest. It’s heavy, too heavy. Don’t fall, you tell yourself, don’t fall. Just fall, it replies, just fall.

It’s a heavy load, it is. In class it keeps your head down. In walking it keeps your shoulders hunched. In sleep it keeps your body curled.

The others, they try to keep it away. They fight, claws, fangs, hooves, venom, they fight hard. It keeps coming back. It keeps speaking.

You’re not good at this, it says, you’re not good at that. You’re good at being bad, it says, that’s a better way to think about it.

It still grows, it’s still there. It covers you with it’s wings, it pushes you down. You can get back up but it pushes you down harder. Stay down, just stay down, it says, stay down, stay low, then you can’t get any lower.

You can still get lower, but man, it doesn’t know that.

The Simple Habits

indigoshellLeave a comment

Throughout life you pick up simple habits. Sometimes they last forever, sometimes they last only for a duration of time when the situation has passed.

The way she pushes her bangs away from her face, though they’ve grown all the way out and tied up into a neat, workplace bun.

The way he hits the switch on the wall, though his younger sister is no longer afraid of the dark.

Habits can form for no reason whatsoever, yet they can be all the reason you change.

The way he sneaks out of the house at night, though he no longer lives with his parents.

The way she shuts her door all the way, though she knows nobody is home.

They aren’t really habits though, in a sense, it’s a part of their life now.

The way she clutches at her bag in the Paris subway, though there’s nobody around to rob her.

The way he checks for his lighter, wallet, then keys, in that order, though he has quit smoking three months ago.

When you loose a habit, that chapter of your life has ended.

The way he no longer reaches for his crutch when standing up.

The way she no longer holds her hairband in her teeth when tying a high pony.

Then a new habit begins, without you even realizing it.

The way she keeps her hand over her pocket to feel for her phone vibrating.

The way he keeps his head low, watching the ground with great care.

Lone Survivor

Daphne PsaledakisLeave a comment

This weekend I went to go see the newly released movie “Lone Survivor,” starring Mark Wahlberg. From seeing the trailer I could tell that it was going to be a fairly intense movie, but I figured it would also be the typical war movie – glamorized, patriotic, and making all the men in the theatre want to walk out and immediately enroll in the army. Boy, was I wrong.

“Lone Survivor” hardly wasted any time in getting to the good stuff. At the beginning of the movie, there is just enough time provided for the viewer to learn about the characters – their friendship, and what is waiting for them back home. And then after you have been tactfully exposed to their lives, the action starts. And it doesn’t end until the final credits roll.

The film, which is based on of a true story, follows four NAVY SEALS, all of which are friends, on a mission to kill a dangerous Taliban member. He is wanted for killing twenty Marines in one week. From the start, the mission doesn’t go well. Their planned lookout spot has an obstructed view of the village, prompting them to move to the top of a peak, where goat herders happen upon them.

After a conflict of morals, the herders are released, upon which they return to the village and the four friends begin the fight for their lives. Every time you think they might catch a break, another hurdle is thrown at them. They push their bodies past the breaking point, and then more. One by one, they die, leaving only the lone survivor. Hence the title of the movie.

I’m not usually a crier during movies. Especially over a war movie. And especially when in a theater. But about halfway through the movie the waterworks started, and they didn’t end until twenty minutes after we had left the theater and had sat down for lunch. Before the credits rolled, pictures of those who had been involved in the real mission were projected onto the screen, along with pictures of their families, videos of their weddings and their names. It was heartbreaking. The movie was raw and powerful. It did not glamorize their jobs, and instead showed the reality of what the men in Afghanistan have to face. It was action and adrenaline-packed. It was brutal and intense. And it was really really good.

I was not the only one crying during that movie. It’s hard to watch, but worth watching.

When We First Met.

enternity1030Leave a comment

When we first met, it was like a miracle.
Unexpected and unprepared, we came across somehow someday.With blue sky, breeze and blooming flowers,
Birds flew and butterflies fluttered.
The sloppy clouds seemed to be sleeping,
And the whole world was so wonderful.

Then you appeared like an angel,
Surprising me with the sweetest smile.
You were bestowed with all the beauty.
Brilliant, graceful and gracious.

Suddenly,everything vanished.
Desperately finding you in the twilight,
I found anything was just a lie.
Without my beloved in my sight,
Only left were my cry and sigh.

Handing Your Heart Away

indigoshellLeave a comment

Everyone has a heart. The heart is a clump of muscle imbedded inside your chest, hidden behind your lungs and ribcage. Upon first glance, upon first experience, you plunge your hand into your chest and enclose your fist around your heart.

You’ll keep your hand enclosed around that heart. Maybe you will release your heart, sew up your chest, then wash the blood off your hands.

Or maybe something will happen, and you begin to pull your heart out of your chest. Strangely enough, it doesn’t hurt. Just don’t pull too hard or too fast, you could bleed yourself to death. No, pull slow, allow time to clot, then keep pulling.

Who knows how long it takes until you can hold your heart at arm’s length? Maybe it takes two years. Two years sounds like a good amount of time.

Your heart is enclosed in your hand, pumping, pumping, slightly connected to your chest and the rest of your body. You look up. There it is. There is the thing, the person, the place, the reason you pulled your heart out in the first place. Blood soaks your footsteps so you’ll always know the way you came.

You have two options.

The first option is to cut your heart away from you body. Hand it to that person, place it on the ground, do anything that shows that your heart is no longer your own.

They could crush it. Stomp on it, squeeze it slice and dice it up. They could do anything at all and you could do nothing about it. It is no longer your heart.

You have another option.

Turn away. Put your heart back into your chest. Stack your ribs on top and peel your lungs back into place. Sew yourself up. The heart is yours. It will stay yours. Do not ever let it go again.

The Watchful Poster

indigoshellLeave a comment

Three o’clock, sharp. That’s when the metro train always comes along. And yes, there it is, you can just see the bright headlights of the train. I glance at the ground, taking heed of the chipped yellow “CAUTION” paint. I put my feet squarely on the line and lean forwards slightly.

The oily, grungy, and smokey smell of the tunnels rush up onto my face as the train speeds by, missing my face by inches. I always feel a slight sense of ecstasy whenever I did this. “It’s the adrenaline rush,” I’ve been told, “you’ve probably turned yourself into and adrenaline junkie.”

Adrenaline junkie or not, this is what I did every day, and this is honestly what the highlight of my day is. Sad, isn’t it? That my life is so lifelessly boring that the only joy I feel is having a metro train decapitate me.

After sitting in the train for around four minutes, eight minutes tops, I would squeeze the horde of people and make my way up to my workplace. Well, not before pausing to look at a poster.

That poster had been there since I was just a little girl. After my parents died in that train accident, it seemed like that poster was the only family I had left.
She was a beautiful woman, with long raven hair and a shapely face with soft features. She was posing similar to the world-famous Mona Lisa, the only difference was that she lacked a smile. Her dress, though I could only see the top part, was a stunning emerald-green, still shining through decades of dust on the glass covering of the poster.

Her eyes were coloured out. I know now how or why, but I remember one day looking up into her eyes, the original colour I remember not, and seeing that her eyes had been scribbled out. It looked as if an infant had taken a chalky black crayon and coloured her eyes. The only issue with that theory was that the glass case was framed to the wall with solid steel bars.

Her eyes were so startling black against her milky white skin.

I loved that poster. Like I said, she was almost like family, as I had never missed a day where I would not look up to her beautiful face and give her a swift not, a curt wave, or even a rare smile. Every day was the same; boring, rut-like, and lacking of everything any human could ever want.

Her eyes would always follow me. Every once in a while I would lean in closer to the passing train, allowing it to clip my bangs or chip my nails. Every time I do that I can feel her unseen eyes burning onto my body, either as a warning or an encouragement, I do not know.

So I leaned closer every time. I began to get bruises on my forehead, my hands, even my shoulder once. I was called in for suicide attempts but was released, for there was nobody for them to call to confirm my personality or histories.

Her eyes had never felt so hot in my entire life.

One day I may have leaned in too far. Too soon. I may have fallen in. I saw the familiar headlights, the rushing of the oil-stench wind, but this time I felt the ecstasy before even the train reached me. My, how wonderful that felt.

Really, it only hurt a little.

The secret for an easy life

infamousdolphinLeave a comment

Life is hard and it never gets easier. However, there is a way to make life simpler.

My father, a wise man, has discovered a way to make himself worry less than he usually does. He has stopped reading the news.

Not reading the news means he can stop worrying about problems he can’t change.

My father has chosen to be oblivious to the world and so far it has worked.

After all, ignorance is bliss.