Category: Junior Literary

For my English class, I read a short story called “A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings.” Like most of the literature we could choose to write about, this story was written a long time ago- 1968 by Gabriel Marquez. It’s filled with a bunch of irony although it deals largely with religion. In today’s blog, I’ll be diving deeper into how Marquez uses this literary device to comment about religion and society as a whole.

The story follows the arrival of a poor angel in a small coastal, religious town. Contrary to the villagers’ religious belief about angels, the angel wakes up speaking an unknown language, has very little hair and teeth, and is dressed like a beggar. The villagers are confused about the angel’s un-angelic appearance and are unsatisfied with the angel’s inability to help them with their problems. They lock the angel in a chicken coup, exploit and seer him, then they deny that he is truly an angel.

1. Irony of the angel.

-The angel in this story is not like an angel at all. Angels are strong, beautiful creatures with high authority in Christianity. In fact, angels symbolize purity, hope, intelligence, innocence, and love. The irony of this angel is that it doesn’t have “greatness” or “divineness” that we instinctively expect. As the villagers shun the angel for this, Marquez develops the idea that society punishes those who don’t meet requirement or expectation, but he does it through a fantasy genre that we don’t expect. Although the creature is odd and unknown, the villager’s negative reaction is plausible. Some things are still the same, but others have changed.

2. The priest’s reaction.

                The villagers contact the priest when they realize that the angel might not be who they suspect. Once the priest sees the angel, and all the flaws about him, he questions the nature of the angel and the villagers who look up to him. He even goes as far as saying the villagers who paid attention to the angel were enwrapped with the devil. Though the priest is supposed to encourage others to respect the angel, he does the exact opposite. Angels have great authority in Christianity and are important to Christians and religious leaders. However, there are no signs that the priest trusts the angel; he clearly judges him by the way he looks above anything else. This is clear, and I think Marquez is trying to depict the nature of religion when it is not glamourous, as well as the reactions of people when they are faced with something different than what they know.

2. Exploitation of the angel.

Pelayo and Elisenda exploit the angel by charging villagers money to throw things at him like a carnival show. The villagers seer the angel, poke him, make horrible remarks at him, and treat him like an animal. Despite the monetary gain the angel is bringing Pelayo and Elisenda, they keep him in a chicken coop, instead of offering him a bed and food. They treat him horribly, and I think this is the most ironic message of all. As a village of Christians, there should be nothing more important than equality among god’s people. However, the villagers don’t show the angel any compassion and they would rather let the poor thing die than go against the wishes of others. Marquez uses ironic and symbolic circumstances, like the angel not being able to fly despite having wings or the priest rejecting a religious symbol, to highlight society’s negative mentality toward those who are different and vulnerable.

Mitski has to be my favorite artist. She got me through my whole tenth grade semester. I’m at the point where I can guess most of her songs just from hearing the first few seconds of it!! I will be naming off my favorite albums from her, why it’s my favorite, and my favorite song from it without going into a deep dive because I have no idea what these albums are actually about! (This might’ve been the hardest thing I’ve ever done.)

1. Laren Hell

Laren Hell is one of Mitski’s more upbeat albums where it doesn’t sound like she’s gonna rip her heart out in the studio (not to say I don’t love that). The first time I listened to this was last year and I wanted to get up and dance! (I was in Geometry.)  This album came out in 2022 and has 11 songs that last for 32 minutes. This is me convincing you to listen to it. My favorite song from this album is Stay Soft!

2. Lush

Okay, everyone has heard a song from Lush rather that be liquid smooth or Abbey, you have heard it before! This album came out in 2012. It consists of 9 songs and is 26 minutes long and it also was a school project for Mitski (I think) So, unfortunately, I can’t add this to my record collection </3. Lush has some of Mitski’s best songs in my opinion, it would be in the first spot, but I enjoy Lauren Hell just a little more. My favorite song from this album is Real men.

3. Retired from Sad, New Career in Business

Retired from sad, new career in business was also a school project! This was released in 2013 and consist of 9 songs and is 23 minutes long. This is another album that had a few popular songs. Strawberry blonde and I want you are the most popular ones I’ve heard. This album makes me so sad, and I love it so much. It genuinely gives me chills because of how well she sings and conveys the emotions in these songs. My favorite song in this album is Shame.

4. Puberty 2

Puberty 2 is one that always makes me sad. This isn’t one I listen to often, but it is still one of my favorites. The songs have so much feeling in them, like there’s so much hope in these songs. It consists of 11 songs and is 31 minutes long. My favorite song from this album is Crack Baby.

5. Bury Me At Makeout Creek

This is one of Mitski’s more popular having songs like Drunk Walk Home, Francis Forever, First Love/Late Spring. You have most likely heard some of these before! It’s one of her louder albums, featuring more screaming or electric guitars more than her others. In this album the music feels like more of the focus over her voice. It consists of 10 songs and is 30 minutes long. My favorite song from this album is Townie.

6. Be the Cowboy

Be the cowboy! I feel terrible having this at the bottom of the list since it features some of her really good songs like Me and My Husband, Nobody, A pearl, Washing Machine Heart. I could go on! The only reason it isn’t is because a lot of these songs are overplayed for me. I mean, I could listen to Mitski alllll day long, but I guess since these are some of the first songs I listened to on repeat I’m a little burned out. I still love all of these songs and still listen to them daily! They just aren’t at the top of my list. This album consists of 14 songs and is 32 minutes long and was the first Mitski vinyl I bought! My favorite song from this album is Pink in the Night.

This is the first installment of a new series of blogs I’m going to be writing, focusing on remembering different events in my life through a narrative/diary like style.

I’ve been to a concert before. December 20th, 2019, I saw Greta Van Fleet at the UNO Lakefront Arena in New Orleans, LA. It was mediocre. For one, I wasn’t super interested in them, I really just went because my dad and my stepmother wanted to. The music was okay. I felt that GVF was really only popular because they sounded extremely similar to Led Zeppelin, so they didn’t strike me as incredibly original. There was also the fact that I was eleven and had a terrible sleep schedule, so I was exhausted from waiting in line and I fell asleep intermittently throughout the show. The people sitting in front of me were chainsmoking as well, so a headache made it a not very fun experience. Not to say that all concerts are like that, but I did not enjoy it.

Leaping forward into the year 2024 A.D., November 2nd, to be precise, I am in Atlanta, GA. Waiting in my hotel room, I do my makeup. Navy blue liner in my waterline, teal eyeshadow with seafoam green and blue glitter in my inner corners, and electric blue wings accentuate my eyes. I pick out something to put on my lips, a dark grey, almost black, lip-gloss. With my outfit pulled together, me and my dad walk about 20 minutes to the State Farm Arena through the somewhat crowded streets of Atlanta, with advertisements on the surrounding screens for Billie Eilish’s “Hit Me Hard And Soft” Tour. The tour we’re all going to see. The foremost thing in my mind, There’s a lot of people here. I haven’t even stepped foot in the building yet. There is a line of people around the block, all waiting to get inside to see a woman on stage. It’s so odd how we idolize regular people who share talents with a large handful of the population. I love music and singers, but sometimes I think, maybe they were just in the right place at the right time to reach stardom. I say that as if I hadn’t been out of my mind with excitement the entire time, as if I wasn’t one in the throngs of people waiting anxiously to see this woman sing on a stage hundreds of feet away, less than that if you’re rich and lucky. It was absolutely astounding. I loved dancing around with crowds of people, singing along to songs written by someone who would never know who I am. I enjoyed how I couldn’t even hear my own singing, so of course it sounded terrible. The setlist also had some of my favorite songs by Billie Eilish, along with opener Towa Bird, who I’d heard a little bit before the concert but not much to say I enjoyed her music. Now I can confidently say I love her album American Hero. The music was amazing and I was really glad to have time to hang out with my dad in an environment like that. We both love music and it was really nice to have something that I can share with him. 

This is another continuation of my series The Radiated Zone

Day 68- Ok so I want to cry the team landed and the creature immediately slaughtered them the second they pulled out weaponry. I am starting to think that I should leave this base. Not to become some weird sacrifice hopefully but because number one I have no food other than a low supply of military grade MRE’s and the fact that for some call of the wild shit I don’t think this human mass will hurt me. I’ve been analyzing it and pouring over any books about cryptids or strange and unnatural things. I am now eternally grateful to Danny and his weird obsession for these types of things otherwise I’d have no fucking idea what I’m dealing with. He was a cunt that made fun of me for praying but now that I’ve found his book on Lucifer and small alter, I get it he was just projecting sadly. But other than that terrifying book I think these people are just angry because their death was unjustified because none of my co-workers respected them none of them but me.  

Day 70- So, taking down barriers is very confusing and so fucking loud for no reason. So, the human mass saw or heard me immediately! It was terrifying to see dead people ranging from twelve to twenty lurching towards you. I just played in my head what all those creepy ass books had said it said to play it cool, so I walked towards it while trying not to piss myself out of fear. And just like that it slowed immediately it was like it understood I was a scrawny unarmed five, six man. They made sounds at me it was very uncomforting, but I could tell they were just trying to communicate with me. So, I did what any sane person would do of course and started crying. I hate my stupid empathy, I can’t help it, and Charles, and they were right, I cry at everything. I couldn’t help it though they looked so sad and desperate once I got done crying, I pulled my notepad out of the pockets of my hazmat suit and laid it out in front of them along with my stupid sparkly pen that at least the kids took delight in.  

Day 73- “find a cure for the poison that plagues us” is what they wrote which is only slightly terrifying. I understand what they want now though and that is all that is necessary to know. Macy was who oversaw working with radiation poisoning and trying to find some sort of cure. I’m sure if I read her logs, I will be able to pick up where she left off or find something? 

I remember going on a boat for the first time. The sun was barely over the horizon when we got all packed up to leave for the adventure, my eyes still crusted shut from the lack of sleep I had received the night before. My dad handed me an ice-cold chocolate milk which woke up my vocal cords, allowing me to speak and ask a million questions—bad choice on his part. My 4-year-old brain was scattered as I was concerned about how fast the boat would go or how deep the water would be. My brother, who is not much older than me, was not worried. He asked me to be quiet many times, and I happily told him no. I waited for my dad to answer all the questions that kept pouring out of my mouth rapidly. It was just us three in the car since my mom was at work like usual. We met up with my godparents who had the boat and they surprised my brother and me with our fishing poles. Mine was pink with princesses on it and my brother’s was red with Lightning Mcqueen. I was secretly jealous of him because I was not a fan of princesses, instead, I loved Cars and Toy Story just like he did. 

We eventually made it to the boat launch where we had to carefully back the boat into the water.  My dad and godfather loaded the boat with ice chests and supplies while my godmother put lifejackets on my brother and me to ensure our safety. I was terrified at first, but I soon got used to the rocking of the boat. That was until my godfather started driving. I remember screaming because we went “too fast” for me. I was taught how to cast a line and the basics of fishing. I never caught anything but the feeling of throwing the line over my head was so exhilarating. By the time lunch rolled around, my small stomach began to roar with hunger. I remember eating ham and cheese sandwiches while sitting toward the back of the small boat with my dad. We relaxed while my older brother was pretending to be the captain. While I had not caught anything that fishing trip, my godfather did catch some trout that we took home and he fried for dinner. When we eventually did get back home that night and the adults were cooking, my older brother and I took our fishing poles to the small dinghy in the yard. We practiced casting our lines and fishing until dinner time.

I am a horror enthusiast. I have been ever since I was young. Things that scared me ultimately lured me in. The elements of mystery and fear piqued my interest. When I was young, I would purposefully watch scary movies, but if it became too much I would hold my hand in front of the screen so I could only see parts of it. I would pick scary books to read, but I would have to read a few words at a time before putting the book down for a few seconds. 

I don’t know where this initial love of being scared came from. Growing up, I was always afraid. I lived in constant fear. When I lived in Indonesia, I lived in a relatively dangerous place, I was left alone with sketchy adults and I am just now realizing how awful that sounds. 

I’ve always been afraid of being alone. When I lived in Indonesia, I had my own bedroom, but it was always empty because I refused to sleep alone, even if it was just a few feet away from my dad. So he built me a little tent on my side of the bed we shared, the side closest to the wall. I remember having a terrible nightmare where I came home and a zombie McDonalds worker (I’m so serious) jumped out of the bathroom at me. You know the thing where you can’t run in your dreams? That started happening to me, so I had to crawl away but the rug I was crawling on kept moving with me so I was going nowhere. I called out to my dad and he didn’t do anything to help. That was before I could differentiate dreams from reality so when I woke up, I was really angry at him and never told him why because I thought it was real. I still feel bad for that – I should’ve told him. It’s really funny to look back on that now, though.

When I moved to America, I felt safe for the first time. I actually lived in a house, I finally had friends and trusted adults around me, I had 3 meals a day promised to me. This was such a stark contrast to everything I had known, the fear that I had grown so familiar with. I started having terrible nightmares almost every night. I don’t remember any of these, but my great aunt would always ask me if I remembered. I would hide under the bed and wouldn’t come out. I would wake up screaming and crying in the middle of the night. I would claim to see things that no one else could see. I don’t remember any of this but my great aunt would tell me these things and I would keep repeating “I don’t remember doing that.”

When we moved houses, things seemed fine. I still slept with my dad, but the nightmares fizzled out. Then, I got my own bedroom. It was cute and pink and I had all of my stuffed animals in there and a bed crown with a curtain! I wonder where that thing went because I miss it. Anyways, things started to look up. I was able to sleep on my own (at the ripe age of 6) and I wasn’t having nightmares. I was content and happy for once. Then I started developing insomnia. I would lay awake in bed for hours in a dimly lit, completely silent room all alone. To combat this, my great aunt gave me a bulky radio to put on my tiny little nightstand because she knew I loved music. We’d set it on the pop music station and it didn’t really work, but it definitely cheered me up. Now, I would just sit in a dimly lit room all alone with Timber by Pitbull and Kesha playing in the background. It got to a point where I would memorize all of the commercials that would play on the radio. Then I started seeing shapes in the shadows of my room. Not like an insane creepy way, in a way like when you see shapes in the clouds. Sometimes these shapes would scare me though and I would start crying. 

Eventually, I had the worst nightmare that an 8 year old could ever conjure that I still think of to this day. It started off as if it was a point and click adventure game. I didn’t see any arrows or a mouse or anything like that but the way the point of view moved so slowly and robotically, that was the only way I could describe it. The nightmare started off with me entering the house and walking straight to my room, again, like a point and click game. Then I opened the door to my bedroom and it was literally filled with a bunch of dead bodies. It feels kind of silly talking about this now after so many years but imagine a scared little 8 year old having this nightmare while sleeping in that very bedroom. There wasn’t a single surface that wasn’t covered in blood or corpses. The point of view went into the room and to my connected bathroom and there were even more bodies in there. I hope to never relive that memory or feel that kind of fear again in my life. After that, I refused to even go in my room for 2 years and it was a rough process of getting me to sleep alone again.

I meant to focus this blog on my love for the horror genre but I felt like it was important to explain my history with the feeling of fear and why I love it so much now as a 16 year old. 

I don’t remember the last time I’ve had a nightmare (knock on wood) and I’m so grateful for that. Nightmares are literally the worst thing imaginable. Being at complete mercy of the horrors your brain has created until your body decides to wake you up again is a terrifying idea.

As I’ve mentioned, I loved horror as a little girl. I watched scary movies, read scary stories, watched other people play scary games because I couldn’t. It’s no surprise that I haven’t changed. Horror is my favorite genre in everything. Movies, shows, books, Tik Toks, …Pinterest??? Yeah, I have a horror board on Pinterest and then I get upset when I’m jump scared on my feed when I’m looking for craft projects at 2 AM – nothing new. 

One thing that is still also present in 16 year old me now, is the fact that I don’t like to be alone. Typing this out now has made me realize that I have not changed much from the scared, sad little girl I used to be. I still love scary things and I’m still afraid of being alone. I’ve just gotten a little bit taller. And hopefully a little bit prettier and skinnier.

I still like horror, but I like to have someone there with me. I don’t like to enjoy horror content by myself so I would rather have someone tell me the story along with their input and opinions and how they enjoyed it. Some people might think that’s silly or lazy, even. I’ll admit, it’s not something I’m proud of but it’s true and that’s okay. This blog was meant to talk about how I had a void in my enjoyment of horror. Most things I was interested in as a kid never really connected to me specifically. I couldn’t find anything that really resonated with me and I think that’s what makes an amazing story. Obviously, it resonated with other people – just not me and that’s perfectly fine. 

A few years after I decided I wanted to be an author in the 6th grade, I wondered about what I wanted to write. I knew I could write whatever genre felt right for the story, but that just didn’t feel right. I wanted something I would be known for. I wanted something I knew I would enjoy, and something other people would enjoy. I thought about my childhood and how much I loved horror, but I felt like there was a void in what I really found joy in. I remember reading this series in the 4th grade called “You’re Invited to a Creepover” but I just remembered it as “Creepover.” It was basically scary stories about/for young girls. I loved that series. I felt like I could relate to it, I found joy in the stories and they were also really scary to me.

That’s exactly what I wanted to make as an author. Horror stories for weird teenage girls. Horror stories that will embrace femininity and make real people, real young girls, feel like they’ve been heard. I want teenage girls to find something that they enjoy rather than just having to deal with creative media created by boys for boys. Of course, horror should be for everyone. But growing up, I never had an outlet that represents my femininity and love for scary things and that’s what I want to be for teenage girls. I want to grow into a creative idol that younger me would adore.

In my freshman and sophomore years of high school, I did theatre. My old school had a Dramatic criticism class where we acted and memorized speeches for a grade. I loved it. At first, I was skeptical about public speaking and memorizing speeches or essays that went as long as 5 pages, then saying it out loud. It sounded like it was too much. But really, some of my best lessons were in my drama class. I learned how to deal with showtime anxiety, how to analyze essays/plays/speeches to deliver lines with emotion, and I learned more about my individual memorization process. It was nice. We studied plays like Hamilton, New summer jersey and Romeo & Juliet. But my favorite play was called The Show that Goes Wrong. My drama teacher introduced it to us near the end of the semester, when we weren’t doing anything related to theatre and I still watch it sometimes.

The Show that Goes Wrong is a show that has purposeful tech problems and line complications. It includes any thinkable mistakes that can happen in a show. The main protagonists, an expecting couple, are taken on a house tour without knowing the house is haunted with ghosts. As the husband and wife notice that something strange is going on, the wife’s belly pops to reveal a red balloon. The actors all share an abrupt pause before they continue, which is my fav part. Another one of my favorite scenes is when the angry ghost comes through a hidden door to pay the couple a visit. The ghost is on a stair lift that transports it up and down the stairs because ghosts can’t walk. After the ghost scares the couple, it encounters a visible malfunction with the stair lift and literally stands up to push the stairlift up the stairs. Meanwhile, the whole cast must visibly ignore the scene and continue to the next part of the play.

                What I think makes this play more entertaining and memorable than any other is the look on the actor’s face when something goes wrong. I know they probably rehearse it along with the other mistakes, but the effort of conveying shock/struggle is so funny. And it feels real in this show. If I didn’t have any background about the play, then I would’ve believed the mistakes were real. And it teaches us to embrace our mistakes and find humor in them. Theatre is kind of brutal when you approach it with such a frigid mentality.

Anyways, this is my favorite show and I’m so glad I remembered to blog about it.

This is a show I started watching around January or February of this year. I had heard about it so many times on the internet and because of being such an iconic show. I knew slightly what it was about. Old guy cooks meth with some younger guy and lives a double life. Thats about all I knew before watching it. It wasn’t until I started watching it that I found out that it’s so much more than that.

It starts off introducing the main character and his life. He lives a normal life with his family. But, due to a shortage on money, he takes up the mantle of the best meth cook past the border of Mexico. He does this job with an old student of his that went down a very bad path in life. The show if full of suspense and thrilling missions and always kept me on the edge of the seat. It was really fast paced for the first two seasons. I was hooked to the show. I could not stop watching because I had to know what was going to happen next. It seemed really realistic and well written.

Near the end of season three, the show does slow down a lot and takes a little bit to pick up again. This is the moment where I find that many people lose interest in the show and abandon it for a while. That is something that I did too. Eventually, I went back to the show to finish it. I didn’t have much left, so I finished it up pretty fast. I am so glad I made that decision, because now I can call that show one of my favorite shows of all time.

The last two seasons do pick up the pace again and really help you see how twisted the characters have become and how much better some have become since the beginning of the show. The ending was really unique, sad, and amazing all at the same time. I felt like that was a very appropriate ending to the show. Some may be upset by it, but I feel as if it really made sense for how the story went.

I really enjoyed watching this and I definitely will be getting into the spin-off shows shortly. I recommend this show to anybody who hasn’t watched it yet. It may seem like a basic recommendation, but there is a reason people always recommend it.