Fire and Ice
On May 2, my college counselor is holding a “fire and ice party”
All of the seniors will gather in front of her office and bring their college rejection letters, or any other sentiments they feel like writing themselves, and they burn them. Afterwards there is ice cream.
Fire and Ice.
I kind of tore up all my college rejection letters when they came and really there were only a few. If anything I mostly got wait listed… which is somehow crueler.
Like you fit the criteria of acceptance but by chance you were overlooked.
I think I’ll write a letter instead and call this a brainstorm.
I think it’s really ironically funny that I’ve been going to a private college prep school since fifth grade and I didn’t even know what college I wanted to go to until 3 weeks ago. I had no top choice school.
In the end I picked from what was held before me. I chose to be an Aggie.
For the entire second semester I haven’t hooked up with a single boy. Despite my unquenched hormonal desires… I can’t bring myself to. I’ve been feeling so detached.
This is quite comical considering that I haven’t even had a relationship lasting over five months so dating someone second semester senior year would not be that harmful.
It’s such a common phenomenon though… all the soon-to-be graduates swearing off relationships even though they’re only really moving away in September as if teenage relationships miraculously started lasting more than a month on average.
I have my first final next wednesday and I couldn’t be more nervous. I’m ill prepared and I’ve been sick this whole week. I haven’t had the luxury to scream “FUCK IT” yet because I really really wouldn’t be able to handle a rescinded college acceptance.
It’s also interesting that so many students smirk at the “factory line” sort of life that students lead… elementary… middle.. high… college… job… family… death.
I mean it is a pretty straightforward path I’m pushing myself into but I’ve decided on something very important recently.
Every book you read, every movie you watch, the most “audacious” character is the one who DARES to make others think about death. So deep. So dark.
I don’t know. I think about death a lot and usually I can’t think of a reason it would make me want to live my life differently.
If I lived it like an A on a test meant nothing I wouldn’t feel accomplished. If I lived like an A on a test meant everything I wouldn’t enjoy simpler pleasures. Like sex for example. Or masterbating. Or coffee with chocolates.
I don’t think me going to college means I’m not thinking about death enough to live a more fulfilling life although the thought has crossed my mind.
I’m going to college because I want to learn and grow. And also because I’d like a steady job.
I’m practical that way.
Anyways. Maybe I’ll look back to college when I’m on my deathbed and think “what an incredible waste of four years” but I may surely think that about most of the other stupid things I waste time on but take masochistic pleasure in. Like falling asleep on the keyboard while I make another half thought out tumblr post.
I don’t know. I guess it’s all about deciding how much you want to care. That’s really what the human existence is. What you decide is worth your attention.
I’m going to college next fall. And I believe that applied statistics is worth my attention. Every time I have an existential crisis I’ll just have to remember.
If I think about it too hard… it seems that cosmically nothing really MATTERS. so I may as well decide what does to me.
#college #I should go to bed #prose #creative writing #spilled ink #rejectscorner
Read this shit. Get pissed. Go out and EAT A RICH PERSON! #pissedivity
And we are supposed to be pro-Capitalism. Why again?
This makes me sick to my stomach
I completely agree that this is disgusting behavior… which is why I bitched about it yesterday… but as far as eating a rich person or trying to eradicate capitalism… idk.
My parents are both immigrants too. I go to a ritzy private school now and have a mac and an iPhone and my graduation present will be a cruise trip to Jamaica.
My parents actually did achieve the American Dream. They came here with $400 dollars, learned English, and clearly made loads of money. The reason this upset me is because these people stunted Yldus’ ability to achieve it.
I don’t like gross people. I’m not going to say I dislike rich people. My parents make a pretty good living. They’re just more willing to help those who don’t.
#fromthedeskofpumkinescobar #early-onset-of-night #network-silence
Why don’t people plant bombs in their driveway? (Me getting mad when read this.)
I was so angry when my dad told me about this today. I couldn’t believe how someone could treat another human being this way.
My little brother has been doing Judo as a sport for the past couple years. He’s a bit chubby and slow so my dad hired one of the older boys from the studio to train with him outside of class.
this boy, Musafar is about my age and as it turns out he and his mom immigrated here from Tajikistan a year ago. My dad and his friends are now pretty close with his mom since my dad immigrated here from Belarus and many of his friends are from Tajikistan and Uzbekistan. I’ve seen Musafar at a bunch of Judo tournaments, but I don’t really see his mom.
His mom, Yldus works close to 12 hours a day for a wealthy family in an affluent suburb near my town. She and Musafar live in the families’ pool house. While Musafar is in city college, Yldus works as a home nurse for the owner’s mother.
After over a year of hard work with no vacations or sick days, Yldus was getting pretty worn out. Last week, as she was lifting her client into the tub, she sprained her back. She went to the doctor and the doctor said she couldn’t work for at least a week without the risk of more serious damage.
Yldus told this to the house owner about three days ago, and she promptly fired her.
Yldus was also informed that if she intended to stay in the pool house for any longer, she would have to pay $65 dollars a day.
My dad’s friend Anna helped Yldus find an apartment and the lease started yesterday.
Here’s where the amazing display of inhumanity comes in.
My father and his friends came to help more Yldus and Musafar’s stuff yesterday afternoon. When they arrived, the house owner’s boyfriend (we’ll call him fuckface) informed my father that they cannot move any of her belongings since she apparently owed the owner $350. This was news to Yldus, who thought she only owed $130 for extra stay in the pool house.
It turns out that despite the fact these people were living in a mansion in one of the nicest suburbs in the bay, they were not paying Yldus’ salary. They were getting the government to pay the agency that Yldus works for. Not only that but Yldus had to pay $35 from her salary back to the owner every month because the government was paying her more money than the owner had originally intended to give her.
The reason Yldus owed $220 and not $35 dollars was because if they continued to receive money from the government for the next month until the new nurse comes, it would be taxed at a much higher rate than Yldus’ money (since their income is MUCH MUCH HIGHER).
Basically what I’m saying is. An affluent family refused not only to pay for their mother’s healthcare with their own money, but was ripping off the poor immigrant nurse who worked for them by letting her keep less than the government thought they owed for her work.
I forgot to add that when my father told fuckface that it was illegal to hold a person’s private property hostage when they are a legal resident, fuckface proceeded to block my dad’s car in the driveway so he could not leave. My dad actually had to call the cops to resolve the situation.
Yldus is a legal immigrant. She worked 10-12 hours a day every day except half of Sunday for a year… and now she owes a well-to-do family $350, most of which was not even theirs in the first place.
This is what I call the American Dream.
#prose #american dream #anger #rejectscorner
congratulations - i think this is a wonderful plan for you
thnx guiz <3 I’m happy
Silver Linings Playbook
As a cinema geek, I’m disappointed in myself for being behind in the latest movies. I’ve been bogged down by college applications and so on.
I’m glad I finally made it out to see this film while it was still in theaters because it really deserved the big screen.
I think a lot of times movies about mental health problems are so dark and twisted that the characters seem unapproachable or far removed from ourselves (not that I don’t enjoy the dark and twisted).
I think the cool spin on this film is that there are two sides of the spectrum. Jennifer Lawrence’s character Tiffany is clearly depressed after her husbands death, but was treated with severe medication that she didn’t necessarily need long term. Bradley Cooper’s character Pat, however, has Bipolar Disorder and needs medication to prevent him from having manic episodes and becoming violent. His character originally didn’t think he needed them until he realized he was hurting the people he loved. I appreciate that the film was neither pushing nor bashing mood stabilizing drugs. Some people need it, others don’t.
Most importantly, despite whatever mental illness Pat and Tiffany possessed, this was a pure love story that a large audience could appreciate. I say pure because there are few characters, few sets, and few effects. It was well written and simple, but not stupid. Was it the most touching love story I’ve seen? No, I say Groundhog Day still wins. DId I cry when they kissed at the end? Certainly.
I give both Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence major props on their versatility. I love it when I see actors taking on roles you wouldn’t expect of them and killing it.
And can I just add that Jennifer Lawrence is just the most attractive person ever? We need more actresses sporting some healthy curves.
#movie review #prose #creative writing #silver linings playbook
If every day I stood before you and fed you little spoonfuls of my heart, would you love me? Your lips shine with the droplets of scarlet I left for you. I can only look on and hope you don’t choke with hollow eyes and spread lips. All the while my hand grows weary and my skin pale. Every scoop I take stabs me. A knife would be quick and forgiving, but this spoon’s edges are dull and vengeful. You seem so tall as the world grows dark around me and open space becomes small. I have given you my light and fear takes over now. Parchment skin closes around tear ducts as I try to find sleep. Sleep is the inevitable rest that follows my struggle.
#prose #creative writing #spilled ink #rejectscorner
I'm Hannah. And I like to write because it gives me an excuse to be insane. Enjoy.
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