Hello everybody! Firstly, sorry for not getting this post out yesterday. I ran late with homework, and then was too tired to write, but I’m back today with yesterday’s post, and below I’ve transcribed something I wrote in English class yesterday. It was an in-class exercise where we were given several lines and just asked to write, and this is what I came up with. It’s made up off of some ideas I have running around in the back of my head, but that’s all I’m going to say for now. 

I couldn’t stay to take care of him. Duty called me forward. All our memories together, all the time we had spent side-by-side, training, I pushed it all away. I had to. Because I knew that if I didn’t, I would stay frozen, unable to move, caught in a decision I knew one day I would have to make.

For days I forced him to keep moving. We couldn’t stop. Death came from behind us, and nothing lay before us. He did not want to continue. He complained about his wound, but I knew. I knew he wanted me to carry on without him, that he was worried about slowing me down. I chose not to heed him.

They passed eyes at each other, knowing we were brothers. Our reputation preceded us. But oh how striking the difference now. Men who had seen death never were the same, but my brother’s eyes were not those of a man who had seen death. No. They were those of a man who had seen something so terrible that nothing else could exist. Nobody knew what had happened to him after I left him. Not even he.

He swore that he hated me, that he could never trust me again. I expected it. He couldn’t even recall our best times together, let alone our worst. I didn’t want him to recall. He had been through enough already. Why tell him of the tragic moment when he forced me to abandon him?

“I was at their mercy,” he said today. Before I could ask him what he meant, officers showed up and took him away. They claimed that because he remembered, they had to debrief him. They do not understand. My brother is a broken man.

That’s it. The first lines in each of those paragraphs were extracted from a poem we went over in class. It was a very interesting poem to say the least: 911, by Gil Cuadros. It contains some graphic language, which is just a forewarning in case you decide to go read it. Not exactly my style, but hey, it’s English class, what can you expect?

Tours yruly


The Beautiful Duckling


Poor lil guy =/

This was an essay I wrote for College Composition class. Basically I define beauty kind of sorta not really maybe? XP Just read it if you’re interested, and I hope you enjoy. 🙂

Sitting on her eggs, the mother duck speculated eagerly over the strange, large egg underneath her. When they all hatched however, she found to her disappointment that the most promising egg had yielded the ugliest duckling. In the real world, people celebrate artists for coming up with innovative, new perspectives on life. They call difference beautiful. How did two examples of the same concept, beauty, produce such drastically different results? Why did the mother duckling automatically ostracize her offspring for its difference from the norm while humanity cheered on painters and composers for creating something they had not seen or heard before? This discrepancy exists because what someone calls beautiful ultimately reflects his or her own nature, and thus the definition of beauty is mostly subjective.

Most people have heard of the pithy saying, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” and in sooth it could not have got much closer to the mark. Two people look at an abstract painting and, where one sees random splotches and ridiculous shapes, another sees art and beauty. Initially believing he did not look beautiful, the ugly duckling realized when he had grown up that everyone had lied to him and he did actually look beautiful. What changed? He saw himself from a different perspective. After seeing the other swans flying gracefully through the sky, he realized that his place belonged among them in the air, and in that he found a sense of beauty.

Yet, despite the subjectivity surrounding beauty, people will fight quite strongly over whether or not something deserves the adjective beautiful. They most certainly have a reason for adamantly calling something ugly. When the pompous Mr. Smith brushes Vincent van Gogh’s The Starry Night aside calling it unrealistic, he has based his perception of beauty on realism. In the story of the ugly duckling, the duckling’s mother based her standards of beauty on what she knew. Because the ugly duckling looked different from what she expected and knew, to her eye, he was not beautiful.

Despite all these differences, beauty did not subject itself completely to human opinions. Time and careful observation have shown that humans do tend to see beauty in similar things. Complementary colors and the golden ratio work together with the rule of thirds to create proportion, balance, and symmetry which many people find pleasing to the eye. Sounds which clash and cause discordance contrast sharply with harmonious chords and melodies. Of the two, most people would call the latter beautiful and the former unpleasant.

While discussing the nuances of how the definition of beautiful floats in its effervescent manner through all kinds of writing and our daily language lends insight to the particulars of English, the true importance of beauty comes not from what it describes but from who it describes. What people term beautiful reflects a part of themselves. When the mother duckling called the ugly duckling ugly, she did it not in a spiteful manner, but instead she demonstrated a mother’s blind love for her own children versus the children of some other parent. After seeing the swans fly across the sky, the ugly duckling only had to look into the lake to realize that he had lived too long thinking of himself as ugly, and when he called himself beautiful for the first time, he demonstrated an acceptance of himself. God created everything beautiful, and questions about the beauty of anything He made point not at an imperfection in the creation, but at a hole in the questioner.

Tours yruly

All’s Fair in Love and War

Love and hate

This is a really cool image =P

A rather melodramatic and far-flung essay I wrote on love and hate… =P Enjoy. 🙂

“For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him shall not perish but have everlasting life.” – John 3:16. In that verse two seemingly opposite yet inseparable elements intertwine: love and hate. When first asked about the concepts of love and hate, many people will declare them complete opposites; however, the two have more in common than what the naked eye may perceive.

Passion fuels both those emotions, thus we have passionate love and passionate rage. One can very easily cause the other, and situations in which love for one has caused separation with others backs this. Yet, despite these similarities, and the dependent clinginess these two emotions have for each other, they have their differences. Love cannot exist without hate, nor can hate exist without love, yet both eradicate each other. On top of that love/hate relationship the world rests, relying on the eternal, cyclical battle between these two forces to survive.

If one considered a list of all the emotions ranked in order of intensity, love and hate would vie for top spot. When a woman gives birth to a child and has her offspring pressed to her chest, the strength of the bond that develops between them can only compare to the fury that would swell in the very same woman if someone took her child away. In the Bible, the envy and anger Cain felt towards Able developed into such a powerful hatred that he murdered his own brother.

Yet, also in the Bible, despite knowing how his own creations would treat his precious son, the powerful love God felt for humanity caused him to go so far as to condemn his own son to death to save humans. Both these emotions have such potency as to tie directly into life itself, yet many would still agree that the world would improve if hate ceased to exist.

However, in order for love to exist, so too must hate, thus creating a paradox of simultaneous similarity and difference. Like light and darkness, one cannot have one without first having the other. God calls Christians to love each other and hate sin. In loving someone, one hates anything meaning to do him or her harm. Interestingly enough, one first needs to hate one’s own sin before taking the first step onto the path of loving redemption. Because of these innate ties, one cannot simply treat these two emotions separately but must consider them as one similar entity. Contrary to that, love and hate lie worlds apart, with one emotion consisting of good and the other of evil. In a way the coexisting agreement and disagreement of love and hate parallels the particle-wave theory of light.

Beyond ultimately representing the clash between good and evil, love and hate also symbolize the beginning and end. In love a couple consummates a marriage and through that they have a baby. Unfortunately, hate can quickly end the life so tentatively brought into the world through an act of killing.

Returning to the Bible for examples, the Egyptian genocide of all Israelite babies shows this simple concept. Differing on a conceptual and emotional level, love and hate also contrast each other sharply physically. Love sparks intimate and loving exchanges and causes a spike in constructive and “happy” hormones. Opposing this, hate triggers violent and irrational action and pushes one’s body down a self-destructive path.

Love and hate essentially keep Earth in balance. Without one or the other, societal structure would fall entirely apart. Yet despite how much the world requires this yin and yang balance of the two primary emotions, the people who insist on the elimination of hate have a good point. In a perfect environment where sin no longer exists, hate no longer will have a place either. Sadly sin infiltrated Earth and the beginning of time and with it introduced a need for hate. But the Bible brings hope. One day, when the very embodiment of love comes, He will end the battle once and for all, establishing the superiority of love forever.

Tours yruly

Meeting Someone I Knew

This is actually from a really cute short film called "Signs"

This is actually from a really cute short film called “Signs”

So, real quick, this is a short little storyling descriptive thing I did for College Comp. It’s about when I first saw Anna in person. I know, I know, there’s been a whole bunch of stuff about Anna recently, and I promise this blog isn’t gonna turn into a lovey-dovey mess of stuff, but the other posts I’m working on are fairly lengthy projects, and I don’t have a lot of time for much more than school assignments. However, rest assured I am working on actually finishing Cold Hands, you should see updates about that soon. Until then, enjoy. 🙂

Nobody can truly describe the overwhelming moment which I have undertaken to describe: that of seeing someone for the first time. More specifically I mean seeing for the first time, in person, the girl I had dated for over eight months. Nothing will ever compare to those magical few minutes of July 4, 2015.

Our tryst occurred in the heat of the day at a public, unromantic locale. Summer’s warm sun beat down remorselessly, making everything and everyone uncomfortably hot. All the clouds had fled, abandoning our skin to the tender mercies of the scorching dryness. Even the breaths I took smelled like roast air. Behind me an irregular row of caravans, RVs, and other recreational vehicles stretched out, their air conditioners humming at various pitches as they strove to combat the forces of nature. To my right extended the gravel road providing access to each of the aforementioned mobile homes. It continued a little further to my left before turning right, looping around a playground, and disappearing into the distance. What might have appeared to the casual observer as a nondescript car sat complacently on the gravel, and from it, my girlfriend approached me.

My heart echoed with one word: Anna. At that moment I knew every single video call had lied to me; in person Anna had no equal. Her golden brown curls gleamed in the sunlight, but, if one could consider such a feat possible, her beaming smile shone more. She wore a sleeveless denim jacket over a gray shirt with simple but pretty design, and jean shorts to match. But her beautiful blue eyes, just as they had the very first time I saw her, captivated me most of all. In that snapshot of time I did not hear the noisy caravans, did not smell the trash bin, and did not feel the hot sun, because in that snapshot of time, Anna solely occupied my world.

That moment with all its ironies and magic brought me joy unfathomable, and with its end came the beginning of an adventure, one I could never have predicted. But then again, life enjoys its unexpected twists and turns, and I will hold my meeting with Anna, another unforeseen twist of life, in my heart forever.

Tours yruly

Three Seconds – Description

It explodes....y'know?

It explodes….y’know?

Here’s a short descriptive piece of writing I did for Advanced Composition. We were supposed to describe a scene without letting any kind of action interfere. We also had to go in a certain order. (ex. Top to bottom, left to right, etc.) Also, sorry about no posts yesterday. I got caught up in life and stuff. I don’t think I’ll try to catch up with them, because I’ve got a lot of content I want to post today. Anyway, enjoy.

Above the battle, the sky has turned a forbidding gray. Lightning sizzles, but no rain falls. It would appear perfectly normal if not for the different sized dots scattered across the expansive plains below. Big dots turn into tanks and armored cars while small dots transform into soldiers and paramedics. Flashes of light mark out hidden snipers. Flying dirt pinpoints the landing place of hollow-point bullets.

Deep in the trenches a helmeted soldier stands, keen, blue eyes sighting along the barrel of his automatic rifle. Frown lines crease his brow and the corners of his eyes in an attitude of concentration. His uniform bears the name Sgt. Cochran in faded letters. Into the neck of his shirt, the chain of his dog-tag leads. Mud-splattered straps attached to his backpack cover the even dirtier shirt. On his hip a small sidearm attached to a tightly cinched belt rests. Pants splotched with camouflage flow down into black combat boots. Between his slightly parted feet, a grenade, lacking its pin, waits silently.

Tours yruly

Strong as Death, Fierce as the Grave – Flame of the Lord

Underexposed. Confoundit photography class

Underexposed. Confoundit photography class

This is a short little piece I wrote for Advanced Composition on love. (I seem obsessed with love don’t I?) Anyway, I like it, and I thought you guys might too. Also, if you’re curious, the title comes from Song of Solomon. I thought it was fitting. Enjoy. 🙂

No two things oppose each other quite like a man and woman. Of opposite gender, differing roles, separate strengths and weaknesses, yet drawn impossibly close by the strange thing called love. No relationship quite matches the intimacy a husband and wife share. Two people so truly intertwined that despite their individual existences, the Bible calls them one. No power can hold two people with separate experiences, disparate upbringings and lives, and contrasting methods of thought together with a temerity the tidal waves of life cannot overwhelm. Save one. Love has a power incomprehensible by any person. Able to span even distance, breaking the barrier of never having met, love can join two people even if they live thousands of miles apart. It does the impossible. None can explain this part of human nature, so much more than a feeling, dwelling in everyone. Designed specifically to create connections between the caverns which divide the creatures of Mars and Venus, love crosses boundaries nothing else can.

Tours yruly