Tell Tale Madness

Crazy. It is a word us as humans use constantly to try and describe an abundance of things. An ex-lover, a test, a human mind perhaps.  In Edgar Allen Poe’s short story, A Tell-Tale heart the main character is carefully depicted as a “mad man”. On the outside of the story, he is this placid man slowly descending into his own personal hell of what is his mind.

Right before midterms we feel this sort of panic. The way our blood rushes through our veins with fear of failing all the way to how our heads ache with the slightest touch. We are the mad man in simplicity Edgar Allen Poe is trying to exhibit.

We all run in circles. It is completely inevitable. Much like the “mad man” we all have crazy thoughts. Maybe not about murder or anything underneath that realm, but in reality, it is only easy to slip in our own sort of madness.

One day we will find the thing that makes us go mad. It might be years from now or even tomorrow if the cards are dealt that way.

Once you do find your madness, hold on to it. It might be the only thing that keeps you sane.

The future is honestly so inevitable.

It pains me to write this because of how much cliché is admitted off of it.

Rising from the Ashes

Jay Gatsby is by far one of America’s greatest fictional characters. As the book begins, he’s this ominous figure that everyone wants to understand through the words written down on the page. He transforms into this desperate man looking for something that’s not there or rather in the past. In the end, I’m sure all of us can agree, “Gatsby didn’t deserve the life he got”. He deserved better. All he wanted was to be loved and wealthy but instead was shot in the back by people he presumed cared for him. The irony is rich.

Maybe we all deserve better than our course of life. Then again, it’s we who ultimately decided whether our actions will carry through or if we are destined to nothing.

Taking a look at Gatsby again, all he had in his youth was a farm in the middle of nowhere.  He brought himself up. Rose out of the ashes to the kingdom in the sky. I mean yes, there was most definitely some shady business going on whether we know it or not. The point is, it takes so much time, effort, and patience to get where we want to be. Our choices, shady or not, all rely on who we trust.

This may or may not be a big subtweet to Daisy, I’m not sure. BUT, what I do understand was that The Great Gatsby took a piece of me and tore it to shreds.   

“In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.
"Whenever you feel like criticizing any one," he told me, "just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.”

― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Taking the L

The Great Gatsby is one of the most outstanding pieces of literature written. It’s filled with trust, betrayal, and most importantly love. But is all love destined for failure? The story between Jay Gatsby and Daisy Buchannan is a tell tale of misery. One of Gatsby’s greatest lines is, "I wasn't actually in love, but I felt a sort of tender curiosity,". In short, the love we feel in society today is only plagued by the curiosity we feel towards people we are attracted to.

Now I’m not here saying that everything associated with this “love” concept is tainted by the undying feeling of nothingness. No. I’m just saying in most “renowned” stories in great literature is based around failure. Take for example Song of Solomon. Milkman and Hagar started off as your star class lovers (besides the fact of incest and such) but at the end of the day, they failed, quite miserably might I add. But besides that, The Great Gatsby demonstrates that book relationships are never meant to be written.

Gatsby is a man and Daisy is women. Just as Milkman is a free-spirit and Hagar is a delusional psycho who only just wanted to be loved.

It’s a tricky thing to take such a delicate topic and then to crush it tiny pieces. I guess only time will tell with Gatsby and Daisy’s love story (not that I’ve seen the movie or anything… twice…)

"It takes two to make an accident."

Spooky Song Of Soloman

There are so many factors that implicate the story Song of Soloman. The book is represented as if the holiday, Halloween, was transformed into a book. Think of it this way, for Halloween, we dress up as whatever we want from goblins, unicorns, vampires and so on.

These costumes are metaphors for the book. Goblins represent the racial aspect while the vampires are the unspoken beauty standards.

The list continues on.

There’s one particular scene with Hagar that sticks out like a broken nail. It describes her death as a mental illness. Her passing represents the way ghosts haunt others. She may be gone, but the spirit of her will linger to impact others. In such matter, when Guitar was plotting to kill Milkman, one of his unspoken vows was to murder Milkman’s love as he did to Hagar herself.

In many instances there is this representation of ghosts. From Pilate being able to communicate with her dead father to the ghosts of Ruth Foster’s past never leaving her alone. These ghosts are presented in so much more than a figurative manner. It’s taken from the concept of “ghosts of our past”. Through our lives we will never escape who we were before. In Macon Dead 2’s case, he will never be able to thrive without the lingering spirit of hatred towards Pilate for supposedly stealing the gold from the cave.

Every character has something they are ashamed of or who the used to be. In the end, we can change who we are on the outside but our souls will always follow us through life and death. Happy Halloween!

Where For Art Tho Hagger?

The main question I have been thinking throughout the last two days of reading is, where is Hagger? She goes from a murdering psycho ex-girlfriend who spends her daily life plotting the ways she can kill Milkman, to completely and entirely silent for the last two chapters. It’s interesting and intriguing that such a main portion of the book is stopped and thrown away. Why is that? I don’t know. Maybe while I’m writing this now, she is sharpening her knife and practicing throwing it at a cut out of his face. She might even be outside his house now. We may never know. The point is, why would the author place such a significant event to rest, and why did she do it so spectacularly? The fact of Toni Morrison being an amazing yet twisted author totally adds points to the phenomenal writing style she adapts. It’s descriptive enough to where you can place yourself into the story and the mindset of the characters. While changing from protagonist to protagonist we as readers can get lost into the world of that specific scenario. Therefore, as a brilliant author, it only makes sense to slip away another character only to build the suspense for said character can make a powerful comeback. Imagine this, you are Milkman enjoying his lungs that are filling with air casting off the dreams of the girl who you just can’t remember anymore and BAM! Hagger enters in and shocks the audience. It’s those entrances and impacts that complete a story and leaves the reader wanting more. To answer the question I opened up with, the only explanation is in the words written on the page.

Not Chicken Wings

Wings are such peculiar things. Throughout the book, Song of Soloman, wings are used as a motif of life or death. In life, these flying contraptions are represented as being able to fly home to safe place. Where is this safe place you ask? No one may ever know. It could be somewhere where life is eternal. Or someplace dark and tranquil. A utopia perhaps. On the other hand, wings can represent death. When Mr. Smith wanted to fly to a safe place, he flew towards his death. Think about it this way. When you wake up in the morning and find out what you are going to wear today, you are figuring out which wings you want to wear. A set of wings you chose can fly only upwards. Yet the pair buried deep in your closet is the pair you chose when you want the risk of not flying. It’s okay to not want to fly, but always remember you can go up when you feel like you are going down. Everybody has their own pair of wings. It’s whether we chose the risk of life to preserve through it strong or we fly away to a different dimension where only you know where it is. Instead of “time is the essence of joy” we should vow to say “flight is the essence of life”

Truth of Time

Time. It’s such a peculiar thing. Time is an endless continuum that allows us to pilot it. For the grieving, time moves slow like turtles crossing roads. For the rejoicing, time speeds up almost like it disappears. Time is considered one of mans best friends. It’s been with us since acoelomates roamed the jelly substance of earth yet the clock is still ticking while we prosper today. Throughout history, time has marked some of the most important events that has shaped humanity into this never-ending sequence. Slavery was abolished in 1865. It’s 2018 and yet we still find it necessary to critique others based of off skin color. The Titanic sank in 1912 and once again we still find it absolutely inviting to send people with beating hearts out to the middle of the ocean. If it’s one thing the concept of time has taught us, it’s that it can never be changed. Words can be said and actions can be done, yet is seems that time likes to play tricks on us and repeat itself. How does it do that? We will never know. Time is unpredictable, it doesn’t like to be known as the past, present, or future. It represents itself through the seconds, minutes, hours, and days. Most of us spent our time on what is urgent rather than what’s important. Slow it down. Take time into your own hands and spend it on things that matter to you whether its politics, reading or watching paint dry. Time does fly but always remember you are the pilot.

Run Towards Victory

Week after week. Day after day. Practice after practice. We trained like Olympians. We ran for a purpose. We had already won counties, leagues and regionals. States was a piece of cake so that left the only thing we had worked for all season. Nationals. In that moment all I could focus on was the wind brushing through my hair. My feet continuously hitting the ground. My arms swinging back and forth, and my shoulders loose and straight. I couldn’t hear anything. It was like I was deaf and hearing nothing but my lungs gasping for air. I had forgotten the one thing to do the one thing all humanity knows how to do. I had forgotten to breath. Finally, she came into view. I hit the mark she had set for me, I demanded for her arm, and I handed her off the baton. As I look back at that moment now, I think of how many times I had thought to give up. The times I went home exhausted ready to sleep after a hard workout but then having to do my homework till three in the morning. I had thought of all the times I was thinking of skipping practice but didn’t. As I reflect on that now I can say I am glad I had stayed up till three studying and didn’t skip practice when I desperately wanted to. Nationals has shaped my character to never give up the fight. As a runner, you must never stop running and you must never quit the race. The race will never end, and you must run your best race till the day you can no longer move your legs, pump your arms, and keep your shoulders loose and straight.

Liar Liar Pants on Fire

Is lying the correct thing to do in the right case scenario? Picture this, your sitting in your classroom. The teacher is standing up in front of you delivering this elaborate speech on The War of Roses. He continues on and on and on and on about how this war took place in a garden. You being the intelligent student believe this stronger figure telling you absolute nonsense. Why? Because someone with a higher position of authority told you so. At the end of the day, it’s you walking out to that playground ready to beat up those kids that do know that the War of the Roses actually took place in England.

We as humans need to educated the youth. Society is not the elusive “flower beds and white picket fences” (Collins). No, no. Society is ruled by how we interact with one another. By educating kids with the facts rather than some sly lie, we can reduce the amount of disasters. Disasters? It’s the simple ones. Waking up in the morning and greeting your friends rather than pushing everyone away. Picking trash off the streets, helping the small ducks cross the road, thanking your waiter for bring your food. Its those random acts of kindness that saves society from turning into a freezer. Cold. Dark.

Lying will never lift you five feet up, it will only drag you 10 feet down.

Hemales and Shemales

 Equality. It’s the one word our founding fathers threw into a document imposing the idea that “all men are created equal”. From 1776 to 2018 the gender roles in our great society has been diminished by social standards that have followed, or never escaped, the character of being female.

Yes, we have the right to vote, the freedom of speech, and the right to be able to thrive on our existence. But, its more than a few basic “privileges”. It’s about having the right to our bodies, mind, and soul. It’s about being loud and being heard. It’s about being able to escape these stereotypes of housewives.

Currently, only 24 percent of women in the United States say that they considered themselves to be feminist. When offered the definition of a feminist- “A feminist is someone who believes in racial, gender, social, and political equality of the sexes” the percentage of women who agree raises to 65 percent.

It’s people like Sarah Vowell who demonstrates being able to convey thoughts and feelings into writing about other social injustices that helps others understand that it’s more than just men versus women. It’s more than just black versus white

democrat versus republican

 religious versus atheist

 you versus me.

We should step aside from the word “equality” as it has been way over used. We should introduce the concept of respect; we should respect one another as who we are, not what we can do.

Respect Reguard of Race

As Americans in the year of 2018, we are given the right of independence as a country. We let freedom ring from coast to coast. We celebrate The Fourth of July by exploding fireworks into the sky while being surrounded by the people we love. But, is everyone truly free? Do some still feel bound to constraints based off the color of their skin? Fredrick Douglas wrote a speech back in 1852 defining what "freedom" meant for men that were "all created equal". He states, "The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity and independence, bequeathed by your fathers, is shared by you, not by me" (Douglas 1). He uses the pronouns "you" and "your" to represent the white Christian audience he is speaking too and "me" in regards to the negro population. Douglas further uses irony and ethos to guilt the audience into a new perspective. It does not matter whether one is black, bisexual, or transgender. There is only the significance in the way we treat others; equally and with respect.  Fredrick Douglas catalogues the similarities men of different color share into one sentence adding more drama and depth into the readers mind. Who we are on the outside does not effect whether one is a doctor, writing a book or feeding sheep. It allows one to think and prosper about ways we can change the world we live in. Instead of spending the fourth with our family, we should invite neighbors and friends of different cultures to share the freedom we carry today.