When a human speaks what comes out?
Is it failures, hopes, dreams?
Do the words represent freedom?
Or just a logical way to communicate?
Humanity has not always been united in this regard.
Thousands of cultures have existed.
These ancient people made art, tools, and crafted language.
Progress always had it’s price.
Skin color, cultural values, and language all warped.
People could their differences to others.
It is these differences that has caused conflict.
An entity was built a while ago.
Its purpose is not always known.
Sometimes it serves.
Other times it does not.
It’s inaction lets a nation rot.
Angry people yell and frustrate easily.
Yet never blame themselves for a problem they create.
The powerful man was given his power.
Not by sword but by the check of a ballot box.
Why should one blame an evil that they create?
It is the will and determination of one citizen that can make all the difference.
Democracy or dictatorship, in a sense the citizens choose.
When not happy a single spark of injustice can change a nation.
Last night I was on Facebook, just cruising as I do and I see a link shared by my Dad’s company.
The caption of this video was this, “Very interesting idea. Would you adopt this phone technology? // #phoneblocks”
I was like, “well this might be interesting.”
I have had an iPhone for 5 years. I got the iPhone 3 on my 13th birthday, and from there I haven’t thought about having any other phone.
Droids have come out and the iPhone still seems better. The Galaxy series came out, and still the iPhone seems better, but this Blok phone is the 1st phone that I have thought about actually switching to.
This phone isn’t out yet, but the concept is great.
Electronic waste is an ever-growing thing in this world, and our phones are contributing to this issue greatly.
Our phones aren’t made to last, they are made to last until a new one comes out and then suddenly stuff starts to break.
This block concept eliminates the phasing out of the entire phone.
There is a block for every component of the phone, so if one breaks, you just replace that block.
It allows the user the ability to customize their phone. Photographers can upgrade to a bigger camera, old people can go simple so they know what the hell they are doing and don’t have to ask me how to press a button that says “phone” to use the phone.
(Love you mom).
This idea needs funding, and it needs to be spread across to all of the executives across the country so people know about it.
On October 29 they will send a blast out to all major companies to try to get the process rolling.
They need our help to get the word out.
Go to phonebloks.com and join the Thunderclap so that they can get enough people to make their dream a reality.
Not only could this introduce a brand new, very cool phone to the market, but it could cut down on waste and help the general well-being of the world we live in.
I have terrible nightmares 5/7 days of the week. Here’s my most recent one.
I was in a house. The halls were washed with ghastly bluish-purple light, the color of a fresh bruise. The kind of bruise where the blood is mere millimeters from leaking out of the damaged skin. The walls were covered with photographs in dull black frames. Photographs, with dusty, cracked glass laying spider webs over sallow, sagging faces. All other manner of macabre things hung alongside the photographs. Things… I can’t even describe. Not a centimeter of the walls was visible. They bulged, distended like sick a stomach, breathing in and out with slow, rasping breaths stirring the musky air. The decorations breathed with them, watching, waiting, and smiling.
I realized the things on the walls were half eaten, disintegrated beyond the point recognition. They were shells to an anemone, digested and pushed back out as to create armor for the soft-bodied mouth-stomach.
I found myself, against my will, walking into a room. The door locked. And the floor beneath me, the bed beside me everything was inhaling, feverishly trying to pull me in, to get closer.
And then the dolls came.
They marched and crawled and slid and rolled out of the walls with their button eyes dangling, ogling, bouncing madly from their heads on invisible tethers. Their red, smiling mouths dripped with viscous blackness, filth bubbling forth from lips like rotting sausages.
They reached for me, groaning and laughing with their hollow, putrid, sweet voices echoing terribly around the room.
All the while the house tried to suck me down, somewhere dank and foul, into its roiling stomach.
It wanted to me… To devour me and digest, to make me part of the decorated walls. To use my bones as armor and garnish its halls with my skin until it decayed into a mass of putrescence too fetid and melting to drape across the picture frames.
I don’t believe in God. But when they first emerged and started toward me I fell to my knees and begged God or something -anything to save me.
And of course, nothing came. As I knew it wouldn’t. There is no God. And nothing will ever save me but myself.
I burst through the door, the wood of the door frame too weak to hold the rusting lock. The dolls chased me, coming slowly, but steadily with their jerking, broken movements, and the floor rolling and pitching and trying to throw me back into their rotting fabric arms.
Now they were corpses and dolls at together. Flesh melting off their stuffed fabric bones, the smell of rot and mothballs and decaying silk filling the air, their stringy hair writing and hissing like snakes.
The bruise-light made their white, white skin look monstrous… Thickened, oxygen-less blood sloughed like pig slop behind their papery skin. There was a gruesome, delighted gleam in their black button eyes. One that promised a gristly embrace when they caught me. And there was no doubt that they would… No doubt at all…
Summer vacation would never be better than spending time in a big city like New York.
I personally always consider the Big Apple an artist. She paints herself into a large, colorful picture that embraces different views and various culture.
However, instead of hanging out and having fun in the crowded city, my summer was mostly spent at a more academic spot –NYU.
Before my summer started, I applied to NYU’s precollege program and waited a long time to start the exciting experience.
When I arrived at the campus, which consisted of lots of different buildings located around the Washington Square, my heart started to beat strongly and eagerly. God, I do love this place.
Then my six-week school prgram started. Just like colleges, each student had their own schedules and for me, as I applied to the journalism program, I chose “Report in NY” and “Multimedia Journalism” in order to get a more professional experience as a journalist.
The classes went well. For the Multimedia class, we stepped outside the classroom and shot pictures and videos, and interviewed people -basically everything about the topic of the story we were dealing with. As for me, I did a profile story on a subway musician at Times Square Station; a story about the heat in the city and how the weather affected people’s lives; and a review story on the CNN Tour we went on as a class. My favorite -or my most successful- project was the final which was about, “Dining at NYU.”
It was a brand new experience for me to present news via multimedia ways. I learned a lot about shooting skills, and the editing process of videos and what should be shown or not shown. Six weeks were absolutely not enough to become super good at it, but at least I got a unique opportunity to start something valuable.
Walking around in NY with my camera shooting the life of the city, has been my dream for a long time, and it came true. I did enjoy it.
“Report in NY” class was more traditional compared to the other one. We found stories by ourselves and did all the interviews and edited them until it reached the perfect level.
The most part I liked about NY was that it was not hard at all to find stories. Things were happening all the time around us. The city was busy and so as the people.
Talking to different people and listening to their stories only made me more obsessed with journalism. Because I do want to share them with others and let more people know about the world around us. And I guess that’s what I’ve learned this summer.
Besides studying, I also went to other places in the city to relax. It’s New York, as long as you are in the city, it would never be boring.
My summer was busy with classes but at the same time, I felt fortunate to learn something new, to meet new friends, and to get more knowledge about New York.
It was a life-long unforgettable experience for me and I will miss that purple place very much.
As this year is drawing to an end, this is my last mandatory blog.
I wanted to take a second and thank all you have read my blog through my year in this class, but this isn’t the last of me.
I plan to be blogging this summer through whatever adventures I may encounter, but I will be back regularly in a few months.
Many of you have enjoyed my poetry or sports stories this year so I will leave you with one last poem.
Thank you for bringing traffic to our site, and please spread the word.
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As it draws to an end so does this journey.
Another year, going nowhere, sitting in the same spot we were in, when the first day started.
The same spot we were in the first time my eyes met yours.
As I prepare to take my final walk out on stage, I would like to think I’d see you in the audience.
The applause resonate through the building, and I stand behind closed curtains.
Shaking, nervous as could be, hoping you’ll be there, but when they open and I take my final bows, where the applause once were, lay and emptiness.
My heart drops, and once again I feel alone.
Just as I did when this show began.
This is the kind of show I never want to see the end of, but you hold my head towards the screen.
I would like to live in the illusion I have created of how our show ends, but instead you put me in front of everyone, only to find myself standing alone, and you aren’t even there.
I take my bow to an empty room, but it does not stop.
The show must go on.
So it is essentially the end of the school year at this point and a lot has changed over the last year. I have lived a year of new experiences.
At the beginning I was excited, but fear always gripped the back of my throat. Over time that feeling faded after acquiring new friends and finding a real home at OVS.
Writing these blogs and journalism in general has helped me more than I would have liked to admit. I am entering a lot of projects this summer pertaining to writing and I fell like a much more confident writer.
I have learned incredible things this year and I want to use this opportunity to thank everyone that helped me this year.
Dear Junior year,
Hello! Hope everything is going well with you.
I really haven’t noticed that you are leaving me shortly. Therefore, I want to thank you for this fantastic whole school year.
I still remember the first day we met. I was nervous because I thought you would be a tough year. As I expected, you were difficult.
However, you were not as horrible as I imagined even though there were hard AP classes, homework, SAT and so on.
I became the junior class rep this year which was such an awarding experience.
We had “Team Competition” and my team the “Eagles” got second place for the first semester and the third place for the end of the school year. We had the funnest event of the year – Spuds Fest and I had great time.
Starting in September this year, I ran the Crosscountry for my very first time in my life. That was hard indeed. I wanted to challenge myself and fortunately, I did it. For the first time, I felt I was actually faster than a lot of people. I found confidence.
This year I also started journalism class for the first time. I felt so lucky that I actually enjoyed the class. We found and wrote stories. I learned how to look at the world differently.
Life is a story, and the best way to learn it is to write it.
Sincerely,
SX
Dear Junior year,
Love.
I was lucky enough to meet lots of new people this year and they were all lovely friends who colored my year with laughters and joy.
From you, my junior year, I felt I had become closer with our community. You brought me courage and confidence to talk to people more openly and comfortably.
But why you taught me a lesson by hurting me though?
Why did you take him away and told me brutally that love did not equal to ownership?
And then I realized that love had no right or wrong indeed. You were correct, some people were supposed to come into your life, taught you something and then left. So don’t worry about me, I’ll be ok.
Then our junior class organized a fairly successful prom with a theme of “Candy Land.” I had great fun with my friends and that was an unforgettable and “sweet” time.
After the prom, I headed to New York and Chicago for my spring break. That was a trip to heal my heart.
Days always got busy after the break. AP tests, finals and tons of projects were thrown to me.
But overall, thank you to make me feel love.
I grew up a lot.
Love,
SX
Dear Junior year,
Goodbye.
You’ve given me so much more than I could remember.
And then you told me it’s time to move on to the next station and Senior year is waiting for me.
Please remember me like I would never forget you.
Take care and farewell.
I’ll miss you, my Junior year.
Yours,
SX
We’re in our last week before finals, and everyone has begun reviewing. Teachers spend class time wrapping up lessons and going back to previous chapters, and students are way past the point of slacking off.
In nine days, the seniors will graduate, and the rest of the student body will begin their summer vacation. In 14 days, I will be boarding a plane and heading off to South Africa.
When I was little, we lived in London, and had a babysitter named Ali. Ali was from South Africa, had fiery red hair, and was as much a part of out family as my little brothers. When we moved back to the states, we would visit her on occasion. It’s been years since we last saw each other though.
This summer, my dad has set up a trip for me to go visit her for a month. I’ll get to meet her kids, who I have heard so much about, and see Cape Town. I am so excited, and can not wait.
Summertime can’t come soon enough.
This year I will be running for the office of day student representative. Running for office is something that I have wanted to do for a long time.
The race looks like it is going to be incredibly exciting and a tough race, and I’m honestly happy about that. I wanted it to be a tough competition that is going to be difficult.
You are most definitely going to see my posters around and I wish luck to my competitor.
OVS Journalism Blog 
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