Saturday, May 5, 2012

R.I.P. Blog


[Annotated.]
January 18, 2012 - May 6, 2012.

Here lies [Annotated.], an amusing Lang assignment that will no longer hear the tapping of keystrokes. May it rest in peace and bury all the sentiments with it. 

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Seeing as this will probably be my last post, here are the blog ideas that never had the time to mature. Don't count them out yet though - I may cultivate one of them if AP Lit (woot!) demands it.


[Life: A Comedy]
Back in Spring Break (when I could easily blot out the existence of school), I paid an old visit to The Office. I had left the show sophomore year when I had heard that Steve Carell was leaving, consequently taking all the quirky charm of The Office with him. It seemed like I wasn't the only one to think so. Over time, barely anyone mentioned The Office anymore, and the only trickle I'd hear of it was how the show was then nervously shuffling through characters to try to fill in Steve's niche and hold on to its evaporating viewership ratings. Overall, an episode didn't really sound very promising. But, stuck in the doldrums of a vacation, I said what all bored teenagers inevitably say with too much time in their hands: "Meh - why not."

Loading Hulu up, I sat in front of my computer, yawning as I waited to watch 30 minutes of my life burn humorlessly and meaninglessly in front of me. 
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You know, a lot of people are afraid to think that they're life might be a comedy. They're afraid that to be a comedy means that they're the butt of the joke, that all the work that defines their life is nothing but the focus of humiliation.
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They're afraid to be laughed at.
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To me, that's the wrong way of thinking about it. Sure, a comedy is filled with jokes. And yes, it's filled with dunderhead moves and the unlucky characters that make them. But that's not all there is to a comedy. A comedy is about
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A comedy is, simply, a happy ending.
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I want to be able to laugh at my own missteps
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No, I'll be laughing with everybody because I'll be laughing at myself too.
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Mistakes, gaffes, and blunders - try as we might to avoid these embarrassing bumps - they're really just another brick that paves the road of our life. If we didn't have these imperfections to trip up on and fall flat on our faces, then what would we have to share with others? 
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Are we simply strolling on this road, with nothing to look forward to but the end? Or are we actually making a journey on it, inadvertently pausing where we stumble to meet somebody new and seek that finish line together? 


[Biology: A Study of Life]
No, I don't want to play myself the victim here. I know that I lost pride, and nobody deserves sympathy for that. However I do want to acknowledge something else that I lost: the optimism of learning. While I understand that competition is inevitable to accomplish progress, I shouldn't have let it defile what was my passion for almost all of my childhood.
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In the meantime, I've turned to writing. There's no competition up there in my brain, so I can read my thoughts between the couch cushions on hot afternoons and not fret about if I'm absorbing the right stuff and enough of it. For now, I guess, I am mining myself, turning over thoughts to discover something enlightening about myself. There's no fanfare in here like there is out there for discoveries.
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I still love to learn about animals and plants and the world and whatnot; when it comes down to it, I can't say that I hate science in the same way I can't say I hate my parents.
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I may not be science's favorite, but it was mine.


[Sampaguita]
we were all dressed in white. we ran around the hallways of the church, like fallen sampaguitas blown softly across the floor by a summer breeze. we were left alone to wear our laughter and the oldness of the church.
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and i remember the sun. no - a tree, its giant trunk gnarled and wrung like a heavy rope. there are stars peeking among the leaves. it's thick branches paint the sky green. i don't see the sun. just a harsh white sky that's too bright and the soft black comfort of that canopy. and the church.
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the walls were made of a gray bricks brushed with wet moss - they felt like the inside of a cave, coarse and moist, a deep oldness ringing from them as soon as you lay your hand on them.
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we'd look back and see our parents laughing good naturedly under the tree as they fan themselves. they do not look back at us but we feel their hands on our shoulders. we feel safe.
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i don't remember much. just the whiteness of her dress, the deep cracks of the church, and my mother's heart against my ear, beating in song with the ringing church bells up somewhere...


[Linked]
Abuelito tossed him a scrap of recognition before turning back to me. "Mi vida, your older brother does not understand value. That is why I am giving this to you."
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And the onyx shone black and proud in the middle like a frozen pool of ink deep with unspoken words.
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i glanced furtively around before grinning at my brother. he looked at me with lifeless eyes. "here." i drew his hand and pressed one of abuelito's cufflinks in it. "it's your birthday too, and i haven't given you a present yet." he let out a smile.
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years later, when my brother was on trial, ...my family did not want to see him... outraged, i threw the cufflink far out the balcony, hoping that it would tear through the grayness of the city's horizon.
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at the start of his trial, i saw he still wore his. 

"Alejandro," I asked him, "Why do you still wear the old man's cufflink? He's not even here to; no one is. Why don't you get rid of it?" 

He laughed a dead man's laugh before looking straight back at me. There was fire in his eyes. "Because it was not his when you gave it to me. it was yours." 

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