I’ve recently read “The Death of the Moth” by Virginia Woolf. This essay was very complicated for me to grasp. I’m not sure if it was the fact I was reading the essay at two am in the morning or I just did not grasp the total point or deeper purpose. To me it made no sense as to why she would simply over write about something as simple as a moth. Then I understood that is was different voices. Three different aspects to bring something with no purpose a life, I grasped that the power was in given something that lacked function three voices.
I began to right my blog on “The Death of the Moth” then I remembered the essay written by Bhanu Kapil Rider called “Three Voices”. This essay I could clearly see the different voices. The way her sentences were simple with no extra unneeded wording. I really enjoyed the simplicity of the essay. When I read the essay I felt the desire she lacked. I could feel her loneness. The blood orange stuck in her throat was stuck in mine. I really learned how to keep the reader on edge until the very last minute of the stories climax. The climax in her essay began very early and lasted until the very end when she told him as she felt.
Overall these essays taught me that little is more than enough. Virginia Wolf’s essay taught me that allowing the reader to intrepid instead of over explaining everything can be very useful. Giving just enough for the reader to pause and relate the story to themselves. Bhanu Kapil Rider showed me that lasting intrigue can be useful of something deep in interpretation. She also taught me that short sentences can add too a reader wanting too keep reading. Overall these essay’s are the best I have read in this book, at least the one’s that make me think the most.
Tuesday, March 31
Thursday, March 26
Reminiscent of...
I.
The air conditioning blew my hair every which way. The boy who resembled a man stacked the boxes high. Boxes stacked as tall as the sky, never ending reminiscent of earth. The phones were ringing hysterically suggestive like his feelings. I typed slowly in order to achieve precision as I worked. Today I could not prevent the consciousness of eyes. It is five in the evening slowing time at our place of employment. The slowness as the sun crept down began to draw the patrons in.
II.
Then, the young beaten down by the eyes that hunt her stops in her tracks, tells the boy reminiscent of a man: “I will not let you burn a whole in me, your twenty years old and evocatively a boy at heart. I will not fret at the thought of your ogle within my soul. That’s it!” The boy reminiscent of a man is not dim. He ogles with care, careful not to be caught. He replies: “Why must I stop realizing splendor?”
The lady speaks next. There is deep sensation within my soul.
III.
I feel comfort in awkwardness. I feel comfort in the boy reminiscent of a man. He speaks slowly with care and calm. I type one letter at a time, only to have a page that makes not sense. My friend once told me to feel the stares of a man is to feel comfort in the soul. I soon appreciate the boy reminiscent of a man is actually the man reminiscent of me.
The air conditioning blew my hair every which way. The boy who resembled a man stacked the boxes high. Boxes stacked as tall as the sky, never ending reminiscent of earth. The phones were ringing hysterically suggestive like his feelings. I typed slowly in order to achieve precision as I worked. Today I could not prevent the consciousness of eyes. It is five in the evening slowing time at our place of employment. The slowness as the sun crept down began to draw the patrons in.
II.
Then, the young beaten down by the eyes that hunt her stops in her tracks, tells the boy reminiscent of a man: “I will not let you burn a whole in me, your twenty years old and evocatively a boy at heart. I will not fret at the thought of your ogle within my soul. That’s it!” The boy reminiscent of a man is not dim. He ogles with care, careful not to be caught. He replies: “Why must I stop realizing splendor?”
The lady speaks next. There is deep sensation within my soul.
III.
I feel comfort in awkwardness. I feel comfort in the boy reminiscent of a man. He speaks slowly with care and calm. I type one letter at a time, only to have a page that makes not sense. My friend once told me to feel the stares of a man is to feel comfort in the soul. I soon appreciate the boy reminiscent of a man is actually the man reminiscent of me.
Tuesday, March 24
Love Hate, back to Love?
If my cell phone doesn’t ring all day I’m in the best mood. I have LG Voyager. I spent an obscene amount of money on it and I’m ashamed to say. I’m really just one of those people who change there cell phones like their shoes, every six months I want a new one. My mother believes that my obsession with cell phones is an expense habit I cannot afford. Nevertheless, I have gone through six Voyagers’ in a year and half period. I touch, listen, feel, and hear, all with this lifeless device. “I love my cell phone” and then I drop it and feel bad for it. “I hurt my cell phone.” When over charging your phone it never really charges correctly again. “I hate this stupid piece of sh**t!” My cell phone is more than my means to communicate with the world, it has become my right or in my case left handed companion. Is it love or hate? In this case, it can be love until the new one comes along.
The Fight
“Where is your cell phone?” “What….Why are you waking me up?” “Where is your cell phone?” “What….Why are you waking me up; you know we can do this all day dad?” “I called you six times and you didn’t answer the phone once.” “Okay, and what did you want that I can help you with now?” “Well nothing I had to walk from the truck because you didn’t answer and you were sleep.” “Oh, so back to my original thought, why are you waking me up?” I never answered my cell phone; it’s always on vibrating mode from when I’m at school or work. That cell phone has gotten me into more trouble than I can imagine, mostly from not picking it up. I can’t even imagine how many arguments have sparked in my household over someone not answering their phone. The best part about it is my mother and I have declared my father the cell phone police. Chief “if you don’t answer your phone I’m going to arrest you.” The worst part is, I’m no longer a kid who doesn’t pay there own cell phone bill and I can still get it taken away for not answering. My mom and I say, chief “if you don’t answer your phone I’m going to arrest you” can have them cause were running away. Oh Yeah!
Chains
As everyone knows chain letters are the worst part about text messaging on a cell phone. At the same time and in the exact same breathe they can be the greatest. Text messaging is another language in its self. Companies have even been profiting by using text messaging lingo in there commercials. “IDK, my BFF Jill,” has become standard language for; “I have not a single clue.” The amusing part about it is when you text message that to someone they know exactly what you mean. Text messaging, chain letters, email and Aim are all apart of standard phone usage for so many in my life. The idea that we; touch, drop, move, charge, point, flip, snap, and click with our cell phones says something about personal feeling. The very idea of a fully virtual world with no human contact is scary. Feeling is never apart of the equation. Snapping a picture and clicking buttons is how we now express ourselves. The “Chains” are actually changes. Changes within our senses; we no longer have to feel one another. Clicking a button can allow us to say what we mean and not do as we feel. I myself am guilty of allowing my cell phone to express my feelings of remorse and happiness. Picking up the phone seem so much harder to do, when clicking is simply at my finger tips. I could probably go days without talking and only because, I perceive the emotion I’m trying to express is being received the way I intended. “Chains” is more than change, it is a means in which a generation may become tied down too and bound by in order to freely express. My chains of technology include my cell phone, two laptops, two desktop computers, my Nintendo DS, Nintendo Wii and my MP3 player. I have eight, how many do you have? I’m so afraid that these chains of technology that we as a society hold on to will one day hold onto us. No longer will they be chains, but instead we will be slaves carrying the lifeless “chains” that cannot freely express.
If my cell phone doesn’t ring all day I’m in the best mood. I have LG Voyager. I spent an obscene amount of money on it and I’m ashamed to say. I’m really just one of those people who change there cell phones like their shoes, every six months I want a new one. My mother believes that my obsession with cell phones is an expense habit I cannot afford. Nevertheless, I have gone through six Voyagers’ in a year and half period. I touch, listen, feel, and hear, all with this lifeless device. “I love my cell phone” and then I drop it and feel bad for it. “I hurt my cell phone.” When over charging your phone it never really charges correctly again. “I hate this stupid piece of sh**t!” My cell phone is more than my means to communicate with the world, it has become my right or in my case left handed companion. Is it love or hate? In this case, it can be love until the new one comes along.
The Fight
“Where is your cell phone?” “What….Why are you waking me up?” “Where is your cell phone?” “What….Why are you waking me up; you know we can do this all day dad?” “I called you six times and you didn’t answer the phone once.” “Okay, and what did you want that I can help you with now?” “Well nothing I had to walk from the truck because you didn’t answer and you were sleep.” “Oh, so back to my original thought, why are you waking me up?” I never answered my cell phone; it’s always on vibrating mode from when I’m at school or work. That cell phone has gotten me into more trouble than I can imagine, mostly from not picking it up. I can’t even imagine how many arguments have sparked in my household over someone not answering their phone. The best part about it is my mother and I have declared my father the cell phone police. Chief “if you don’t answer your phone I’m going to arrest you.” The worst part is, I’m no longer a kid who doesn’t pay there own cell phone bill and I can still get it taken away for not answering. My mom and I say, chief “if you don’t answer your phone I’m going to arrest you” can have them cause were running away. Oh Yeah!
Chains
As everyone knows chain letters are the worst part about text messaging on a cell phone. At the same time and in the exact same breathe they can be the greatest. Text messaging is another language in its self. Companies have even been profiting by using text messaging lingo in there commercials. “IDK, my BFF Jill,” has become standard language for; “I have not a single clue.” The amusing part about it is when you text message that to someone they know exactly what you mean. Text messaging, chain letters, email and Aim are all apart of standard phone usage for so many in my life. The idea that we; touch, drop, move, charge, point, flip, snap, and click with our cell phones says something about personal feeling. The very idea of a fully virtual world with no human contact is scary. Feeling is never apart of the equation. Snapping a picture and clicking buttons is how we now express ourselves. The “Chains” are actually changes. Changes within our senses; we no longer have to feel one another. Clicking a button can allow us to say what we mean and not do as we feel. I myself am guilty of allowing my cell phone to express my feelings of remorse and happiness. Picking up the phone seem so much harder to do, when clicking is simply at my finger tips. I could probably go days without talking and only because, I perceive the emotion I’m trying to express is being received the way I intended. “Chains” is more than change, it is a means in which a generation may become tied down too and bound by in order to freely express. My chains of technology include my cell phone, two laptops, two desktop computers, my Nintendo DS, Nintendo Wii and my MP3 player. I have eight, how many do you have? I’m so afraid that these chains of technology that we as a society hold on to will one day hold onto us. No longer will they be chains, but instead we will be slaves carrying the lifeless “chains” that cannot freely express.
Tuesday, March 3
From Weather to Thirty Minute Comedy Special
From Weather to Thirty Minute Comedy Special
Every Monday I wake up at 9:30 am like clock work, no matter what. I wake up feeling I dazed, sometimes not even realizing my surroundings. I have a shade in my room to keep it dark, my mom always says, “Mercedes your such a vampire” I personally think sunlight is annoying. The way sunlight blinds you, or wakes you up from a deep sleep and even the greatest dream. On Sunday night it was so hot I pulled my shade up, opened the window desperate for a night breeze and forgot to pull it back down so the sun was beaming into my room. I could see the rays of light bouncing off my bright yellow walls, irritating ever so much. After slowly calming down, next on my list is text message my boyfriend as usual. Type, type, type, and this action so routine I could do it in my sleep, on many occasions I do.
My Monday’s are the most mundane day of my week. This week after my long hot shower, I got dressed and my cousin asked me to take her to work. This still is nothing out of the ordinary, 2:30 every Monday I take her to work. Kerrie works for the Town of Buckeye’s after school program with elementary children. So, I’m taking her to work and we get in the car and it’s hot, I mean just insane hotness. If anyone thinks the light annoys me, that as nothing on how the heat infuriates me to no end. So, I’m in the car on one of my rants about the heat and how Arizona only has two seasons hot and cold. Then I go on, “No, Arizona doesn’t have any seasons, it’s just shiver, shiver, shiver and burn your motherfucking ass off, there is no in between.” Kerrie begins to laugh at me, now at this point I’m getting more upset because she is not being empathic to my problem. Then she says, “you know what cedes, that would make a good set.” Then I responded sarcastically, “Oh yes Kerrie, the life and times of a hot ass college student.” Kerrie got so excited, “Yeah, Yeah, you can have your own thirty minute comedy special on Comedy Central Presents!”
That was my Monday, my cousin and I thinking of insane things to do. I can remember when my house was full of people and Kelly, Kerrie’s sister thought we needed our own reality television show. Kelly insisted that we enter a sweepstakes to win our own reality show. Kelly debated the name and who would be the center of the show. Kelly thought of everything and didn’t even enter in the sweepstakes. Never the less that is my life, turning from a mundane Monday into a thirty minute comedy special, or in this case five minute beginning set.
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About Me
- MerCedes
- Buckeye, Arizona, United States
- Four years ago I was asked to write an all about me, I was sixteen years old and thought of my life as a blank canvas. I believed I had deep thoughts and dreamed beyond the horizon, I jump through hoops, ran past dreams, into the arms of me. I depended on air to help me breathe, while I trusted in god to provide that air for me. You tell me I can’t and I show you I can. That’s me, defiant of all odds in the pursuit of greatness. So far I have become the young woman I dreamt of being, only with life’s hardships and too many sufferings that followed me. I always find it interesting how people want you to some up your life in a page or two, when you’ve lived twenty pages; I guess nothing is fully inclusive. My father says that he has forgotten more now than I could know at my age, I presume that’s the point, to write an about me is suppose to be the great highlights of your life, from the many people you’ve known, loved and befriended. I love to think of my life as a blank canvas, a work of art never to finished, always willing, and able to add more. I feel comfortable ending this about me as the last, all about me is a canvas I'll spend a lifetime painting creating and contemplating.
