birds in the sycamore tree

“It started a year ago. I lost all awareness of time and the space around me. All I could see was his trembling body aching for help. It was my brother’s fifth seizure, a battle that he was in the midst of conquering for years. The control I took at that moment was beyond my personal relationship with him and the pain coursing through my heart, the control was my ache to heal. Since that day, I have had the ambition to heal, heal the broken, and heal people in dire need. ”

I wrote this a month ago for a scholarship essay. Even though it has become “normal” for my family, it’s not easy for me to talk about.

Three days ago was mothers day. Three days ago was also an anniversary.

May 10th was easily one of the harder days that I faced in my short lifetime despite the loss that I have experienced.

Death was introduced to me at a young age and has been one of the more consistent concepts in my life: my grandmothers, my grandfather, my aunt, a friend.

But this was worse. Grieving loss is one thing but the anxiety that is paired with the potential and fear of death is a much larger burden to bear.

Over the past 6 years, I have internalized many emotions and fears that I have for his life: Once I speak of my fears do they come true? Is his safety my responsibility? When does care cross into obsessive anxiety?

Eventually, I found acceptance. But it wasn’t easy.

Three days ago, we celebrated mother’s day with … peace and gratitude. I held my tongue as we sat under the sycamore trees while the birds sang above us and simply enjoyed what God had given us.

photo credit: fineartamerica.com

Some thoughts about the Wuhan Virus

A deadly virus has spread throughout China. With now 76 people killed, tens of thousands being possibly infected, death festers upon negligence and ignorance. Some fools choose to travel, knowing they’re infected with this crazily contagious virus. More and more innocent people, children, are dying for that idiocy. 

I’m anxious. Checking the updates on anything related to the virus has become my new habit. The ones I care the most about are in China, and tomorrow they could be dead… all because of that damned negligence. 

But at the same time, I feel sad. What are the infected supposed to do? Sit down and die? How can you blame anyone when the whole plot is sad, when it is your townspeople you’re talking about, when it’s your friends and loved ones’ lives on the line. 

Now I’m in dispute with myself. I don’t know what to write. Thinking that you’re lucky, that you’ve escaped the virus, that the deaths of other people are irrelevant… I don’t know what to think. 

At first you’re in shock, then relaxed, thinking that they’ll have the cure developed by tomorrow… isn’t it the 21st century? Then anxiety hits. You start a journey looking for the antidote for the virus, but there’s no antidote for you.

It’s the Chinese New Year. After a year of struggling, most people finally get some rest. Families get together, friends gather… and boom…

My hometown in the same province as Wuhan City, where the virus first started to murder. Now the province is under lockdown. For that, I pray for my family. 

My mother hasn’t been healthy for a few years. I worry for her well-being, now that a deadly virus walks the earth. My sister feels ill, I hope it’s just a cold…

However, there is a silver lining. And how can one go on without faith?

Today, the first step toward curing the disease with vaccination has been initiated. 

Ok. 

photo credit:gfycat.com

Wandering

Let me be your beacon,

let me be your guiding light.

I know you’re scared, tired, and broken,

but I’m here to hold you tight.

I know you hide your fears from me,

you get ashamed when you let them show,

but babe,

I’ve cried in your arms many times,

so please just let me know

what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours,

your wicked, twisted, brain

filled with lies and awful times,

but babe let me be your change.

I just want to love you,

you’ve been through so god damn much,

your beautiful soul deserves the world you know,

I wish you thought the same.

I’m sorry for everyone who hurt you,

you’re scared to let me in because you fear I’ll do the same.

Everyone you’ve loved has done you wrong,

but darling I’m not the same.

So let me be your beacon,

let me be your guiding light.

I know you’re scared, tired, and broken,

but I’m here to hold you tight.

Photo via: searchengineland.com

Youth

Back then, war was a card game, race issues were about who ran the fastest, and protection meant wearing knee pads,

and a timeout was the worst punishment we knew.

Back then, our parents were our heroes, the safest place was in mom’s arms, and the highest place on earth was dad’s shoulders.

Back then, we shared toys, not boys. Back then we said “thank you” more than “I’m sorry,” “yes” more than “no,” and “I love you” instead of “I hate you.”

Back then, guys played sports, not girls,

back then, we looked forward to every day instead of dreading it,

back then, we were scared of the dark, not the world,

and back then we couldn’t wait to grow up.

Photo Credit: Pinterest

Spooky

Last year, something horribly tragic occurred on a large road about a quarter mile away from my house. In the early morning, around 4am a car crashed into a tree carrying four teens, three of them dying on impact. It was horrific, I didn’t learn about it until later that day. However, the night of the accident I had a horribly lucid dream in which I woke up in my bed and it was pitch black. The only reason I could see anything was because of the pale blue tint to the pitch black night, my windows were open and I could see out into my street. All of the sudden a shuddering scream arose in the distance, so prominently loud, accompanied by millions of other screams; the world was crying around me, falling into indescribable chaos. I was confused to begin with, until I could feel the feel screams shift as if they were a wave, the amplitude approaching my street, and it was in that moment that I completely froze. It felt as if every soul, petrified in doom, burst out in a thunderous cacophony of deafening terror, a vocal representation of the gothic interpretation of hell. I was unable to move. It felt as if the screams were searching, surveying the world for a single living thing, for me, and any movement I made would lead them straight to me. So I waited, I sat there and waited as the apex of noise approached, peaked, and as it passed I simply awoke. I checked the time to see if I could return to sleep and I saw that it was only 4:30 in the morning so I could get back to sleep, it took a while but I returned to sleep peacefully, although still bothered by the dream I just had. I woke up that morning with the dream lingering in the back of my mind but without much worry attached to it, so I went about my day as if nothing had happened, because to me, nothing had. We went out to lunch, on a different road from the wreck, and when we returned we came down that road where my father told me about the conversation he had with one of our neighbors earlier about the wreck and how it had happened there early in the morning yesterday. And as the words left his mouth the feeling of dread became so strong that I couldn’t speak. I just sat there dumbfounded as we approached the site of the crash where a candlelight vigil was being prepared.

Photo Credit; Depositphotos

Mister Sandman

Won’t you go to someone else’s head?

There’s no space for you underneath my bed frame

To hide and pull me through my sheets

To mark my skin with claws and fear.

Call me weak and laugh at me

Because you took my tears and pretty dreams

Replaced them with nightmares

And acid

And cold sweat.

Blue and purple thoughts are eating through my brain

Like a virus would spread through its host.

I am your host,

Credit: i.pinimg.com

 

You are my uninvited guest,

Destroying my home

While I lay in bed and don’t do a thing,

Staring at the ceiling above me,

Watching it brittle and fall apart.

And you stay.

You stay and you crawl back under my bed.

You stay and you soak my pillows in black paint.

You stay and you hold my hand to break it.

You stay and you do it all over again.

Fighting the Fear

My school has a equestrian program, which I wanted to take advantage of. One year ago, I tried it out for a season. Since my roommate at the time was a rider, I was very excited to learn this sport.

It started out well – I was loving my horse and the sport, but then things started changing. Espada, the horse I was riding, started acting wild, and because I was a beginner, I couldn’t stop his behavior. Espada would kick other horses while I was on him and would try to scare me by jumping suddenly. On the last day of the season, Espada jumped with his back feet and started running. I pulled on him and was able to stop him, and luckily I didn’t fall. But that sudden act brought me to tears. After that, I couldn’t even look at the barn, because I would feel too scared.

Horse with girl

Photo Credit: Evelyn Brokering

I wanted to fight my fear, and I wanted to love horses like my roommate did, so this year I tried equestrian again. The first day I was too scared to walk toward the horse alone. Taking small steps each day, I pushed myself to do something I was afraid of. Day by day, I noticed I was becoming more comfortable around horses.

Now it’s been two months since I started riding again, and I no longer have any fear– I am able to walk and canter by myself. It’s the best feeling: to conquer a fear instead of letting the fear conquer you.

Jumping In My List

As an adrenaline junky and extreme sports enthusiast; I encourage activities that include lapses of free-falling. That’s why I felt so compelled to write about the 36th annual Bridge Day in Fayetteville, West Virginia.

This event attracted an estimated 400 jumpers and 10,000 spectators to the 800 foot drop of the New River Gorge bridge. One after one, the jumpers stepped off the edge of the bridge to commence their free fall.

Picture Credit: “www.xtremespots.com”

 

What is BASE jumping and why would anyone ever do it?

Well, let’s explain the easy part first.

B.A.S.E stands for buildings, antennas, spans, and earth. The latter of the two meaning bridges and cliffs. The basic idea is that the jumper climbs to the top of one of the four mentioned and jumps off of it with a parachute. Jumps are usually under 1600 ft and speeds can reach up to 120 mph – Dang!

When questioned whether BASE diving was worth dying for one anonymous jumper explained, “BASE Jumping isn’t worth dying for, but it is worth risking dying for.”

One jumper from New River Gorge explained that BASE jumping feels like “nothing else in the world is a thought that goes through your brain, it’s just pure serenity.” Another jumper said that she could “convince myself to do pretty much anything,” if she could convince herself “to do something like this (meaning BASE jumping).”

Most people probably won’t BASE jump in their lives, but I know I will.

 

SAT SCORES OH NO

Photo Credit:http://hyperionlearning.me/

After years of mentally preparing myself to endure the most mentally draining four-hours of my high school career, I have just completed taking a second SAT test.

I have so many thoughts about this tedious task that every high school student in the United States is required to do.

I think it is ridiculous that a standardized test score can determine a student’s future. A good student with a high GPA and a lot of extra curricular activities can get an average score solely because they might not be the best test taker, but that one test score has a large weight on which colleges accept them.

I do not fully understand why standardized tests have become a way of determining students academic careers for such a long time, or why they have become of such a high priority. Although most colleges look at students holistically, California State schools consider students purely on GPA and standardized test scores.

However, I understand the reasoning behind standardized testing; giving students a chance to show the general academic knowledge they have accumulated in high school.

But why does a test have to be the only thing that proves a student has gained knowledge? Why is it that the pressure to get a high-test score can consume a student’s conscience for months so that they focus all of their time studying for one generalized, tricky test?

I know, because it consumed me.

The death of trusting

ff4

A man who is trusted, has nothing to fear.

He can lie and betray all without threat of punishment.

This man’s friend belongs to a different tribe.

That tribe made sure of his brothers’ downfall.

The trusted man began a plot.

The trusting man was lured into the desert embrace.

Talking and speaking began between the trusted and trusting man.

Then it happened.

A shout, a bang, and one hit.

The trusting man was dead , the trusted left the gruesome scene.

The trusting had fallen.