Caring about grades is new for me. In high school I thought I’d end up going to community college so I scraped by. At the start of community college I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do so I scraped by. The idea of trying to get a grade above a C was foreign to me. It’s not that I wouldn’t feel happy getting an A or a B but there wasn’t a need for it previously. Recently that has changed. It’s an odd feeling for me. Most of my life I’ve spent resenting school or simply not caring about it. It makes school feel entirely different. It makes me view teachers entirely different. My outlook on education has changed the second I set a goal for myself that required grades better than C’s. In a way, I don’t even feel like my old self anymore. Part of my identity for so long was that I barely passed all my classes but I know feel a positive sensation when I do well on my assignments. – A.C
It’s so simple…
Isn’t it amazing?
Dogs are these wonderful creatures who are the true embodiment of love.
They simply love you for you. Unlike the world, they never discriminate like society has taught us to. They do not see us based on our race, religion, skin color, hair texture, or what we see as “beauty”. For these animals, we are their world. It does not matter how we look, the clothes we wear, or what we own; as long as you treat them well, these animals will dedicate their lives to you.
Dogs solemnly love us based on how we treat them, and even then we do not deserve what they give us in return. When you take care of these animals, in return they vow to always protect you. When you respect a dog and show them your world, they will forever remain loyal to you. Give them some love, and they will give you a lifetime worth of memories. These animals do not hate based on materialistic desires, they only love based on your actions. The smallest effort you put into helping these dogs, they never take for granted. They will love until the very end.
Isn’t it amazing?
Not dogs, but…unconditional love.
It’s so simple.
-N.D.
SwanFest
Last weekend I got the chance to go to my first music festival. The best part about it was that it was in Anaheim featuring 16 different bands.
We stood in line for 30 minutes as the LA sun beamed down on us. We watched as people hyped themselves and their groups up for the entrance. We smelt sunblock from all angles as everyone attempted to protect themselves from the rays. I studied the rippled effected straps on my backpack with the fingertips of my thumb and index- lifting my right hand to wave at the camera that swooped by to capture the fans.
Once inside, we stood before the left stage that showed tiny men running back and forth for set up. “I need a drink.” We made our way to the bar area that stood between the two stages. A mess of different styled music rang through my ears as I took a sip of the spiked lemonade and felt it literally spike my tongue. With each band that played a new drink was in my hand.
Finally we stood in the middle of the 7,000 people filled crowd. I felt my eyes close as I nodded and swayed to the beat of the music. Suddenly I felt an arm across my lower back and two hands down by my right foot. Next thing I know I am feeling tons of hands sliding along my back! Before I could realize that I was actually crowd surfing- I watched the sky get bigger as I begin to sink into the crowd. With my arms and legs out to my side like a star- I let the group of people catch me. One hand under my head, two hands under my back, four hands holding my legs- I gracefully drop to the ground. “Are you okay?!” I hear multiple voices ask as I hop up off of the asphalt. “I’m fine! You guys all caught me! No need to worry.”
Him
If there were such thing as perfection, it was him.
I remember sitting across from him. It was our first date. I told him a long time ago that I absolutely loved Chinese food. A month later, he decided to take me to his favorite Chinese restaurant. I can’t believe he actually remembered. After the waiter took our orders, I remember just sitting there and staring at him in awe.
His smile was ever so contagious. He always brightened my day.
His eyes were kind. Every chance I had to gaze into them, I could see no judgment.
His language and how he spoke towards others always brought warmth to my hearts.
He noticed my gaze towards him and laughed.
“Can I help you?”, he asks jokingly.
“How do men like you even exist?”, I ask in all seriousness.
Without hesitation, he leans closer and flashes that smile of his; he says to me, “Because, my love, we come from women like you.”
-N.D.
Milo, the Adopted Dog
Knowing full well the harshness of the summer heat, I adventured outside to go on a bike ride with “E.” “Today was going to be a normal day,” I thought to myself. We had planned on going to the nearby creek to take some photos, but instead, we were met with something else. As I left my house and was going to blaze through my neighborhood, I saw a small little dog. He looked very fragile, hungry, and absent-minded. He walked aimlessly through the street nearby. I knew that I didn’t have the right to intervene with him, but I figured I have the time.
As soon as “E” came to my house, she met him. The young, little dog didn’t have any identification on him, but that didn’t stop our new quest of finding his owner. We went through the nearby neighborhoods for 2 hours, baking in the harsh sun, trying to find his owner. One of the doors that opened up felt sympathy for our endeavor and gave us a leash for our new friend and some water and doggy treats.
“E” and I decided to take him to the nearby animal hospital so they could take him in. We hopped in her car and drove down our busy main street. We never had a name for him yet, and I decided to call him “Milo,” named after the dog a close friend of mine’s was taken from her at the time. Milo seemed to like it, as he responded to it. He nuzzled up under my arms on the car ride there. He looked to be in better health than when he first met us. He actually wagged his tail around, and took interest into the areas we were traversing. He was still timid, but he stuck close to me and “E.” Finally arriving to the animal hospital, we delivered him to the employees. With a goodbye hug from me and “E,” we gave Milo away, to people who can truly help him. I’ll never forget the little guy. Maybe we could have kept him, or maybe not. But I feel that we made a difference in his life.
And trying is all that matters, even enough to change fate. – J.E.
Sound of Summer
It’s spring but that isn’t stopping me from thinking about summer. Spring might be the most enjoyable time of the year, weather wise but for school it’s the opposite. It represents the last final pushes of the semester and the coming of summer. I hate how hot summer around here is but to me, summer represents freedom. It represents me losing track of what day of the week it is.
Throughout the year I don’t have very many routines or rituals for the seasons but summer changes that. My music changes in the summer, the food I eat changes and the hours in which I sleep drastically change. I am a completely different person in summer.
From end of school parties, hanging out by the river or just hanging out in the backyard, the Beach Boys represent summer to me.
Moonlight
Do not call me your sunshine,
let me be your moonlight.
Sun shines
are a temporary comfort;
Sit in it for too long
and it will burn you,
Stay out in all day
and you will overheat,
Go out without protection
and it can be fatal.
Do not call me your sunshine,
let me be your moonlight.
Moonlights
Radiate your flaws and
enhance its effortless beauty.
Moonlights
Shine light in your darkness and
guide you through it.
Let me be your moonlight;
Your guiding light,
Radiant light,
Your harmless light.
Do not call me your sunshine,
Let me be your moonlight.
-N.D.
Adventures in Everyday Life
Two summers ago, my girlfriend and I went bike riding around our neighborhood. In the town of Elk Grove, it’s not too small for you to know everyone but its big enough to have a friend from a different school to know a friend that’s in your school. I know that sounds confusing, but one person you know has a shared mutual friend of yours, regardless of where any of you three meet. Anyways, back to the story.
We went bike riding down one of our major streets, Whitelock Parkway, home to two middle schools, two high schools, one college, two housing complexes, and two shopping centers. Needless to say, its a busy street. About two miles away from my old high school, there’s this park in the middle of a bunch of houses. This park is visited by the nearby neighbors, but far enough from my house for us to not run into everyone. Every once in a while, I like to ride past there, as it is generally pretty quiet. Families spend lots of time walking their dogs, or taking their children to the outdoors, disconnecting them from the world of their electronics.
At this park, there is two ways to enter it: a street or a foot bridge. Being a traveler and urban explorer, I always ride over the foot bridge. Not to admire its infastructural beauty, but for what’s underneath it. Living in Elk Grove for more than 10 years, you can get bored kinda easy. So the only way to have fun is to go to the places where one doesn’t go. The underneaths, the aboves, the insides, the outsides of the unconventional places we see everyday. My photography teacher from high school taught me this. And boy was he right.
“E,” from the post “Her” and I went underneath the footbridge at the park. There wasn’t anything special about it, other than it was fenced off, so kids didn’t run down there. There’s nothing more enticing to travel than a place that’s closed off. The fence itself was about up to my torso, a modest wooden fence. We parked our bikes by it and climbed over it. We walked down the jagged rocks to the valley of the ditch underneath it. Filled with assorted rocks, animals, and plants, we walked through the terrain. The more your body is immersed into different surroundings, the more you experience. We took a short 100 foot walk to the underneath of the footbridge.
Under the footbridge was two giant holes, for water to run underneath. Living in California has it’s disadvantage to not having water during the summer, but the advantage of opening up new places to explore. The patch of space the hole gave had interesting acoustics, as one’s voice bounced form one side to the other. “E” and I took pictures of the graffiti, and just enjoyed being out of bounds for once, in a place one can’t search because they are too closed off to think outside. Being under there felt liberating, like we crossed into another reality where only the brave lived.
“E” took a photo of me in there. Here’s what it looked like.
We were brave, striving to be the best, and continuing to be we are. – J.E.
A short story about an oatmeal box and then a poem about it.
Today, while my mom was talking to me about a story, I tore apart an oatmeal box and put it over my head. I live at home and my moms buys my food so I had brought the oatmeal box into the room because I was explaining to her that we’re out of oatmeal but I didn’t want her to buy more because I wanted to try a carbohydrate lite diet. I normally tear things up in my hands without realizing it but today out of shear boredom, I put the box around my head mid conversation. The box is big for an oatmeal box but small for a head. I immediately smelled the cardboard and it brought me back about twelve years. In that moment I was reminded of a cardboard fort I had built with my neighbor, we had tried to spend the night in it but I think we bailed out of the idea because it was awful.
Cardboard is bland,
oatmeal is bland,
bland isn’t bad.
Bland can be fun,
if you make it into a fort.
I wouldn’t want to live in bland,
but occasionally it’s not bad. -A.C
The Walk-through to Maui Bay
I have a happy place. A physical happy place.
Her name is Maui Bay.
Maui Bay is a place back on the islands that I like to go to when life gets too overwhelming for me. It is located at the edge of the island. It’s a small part of the beach where people normally make a quick pit stop to either update their Facebook timeline or take a break from all the driving and freshen up.
Anyway, on that small pit stop, there is a bridge that takes you about one hundred feet out in the ocean waters. Towards the end of the bridge you’ll see a little gazebo, and out of the gazebo, there is a mini platform.
I like to sit on the edge of the platform and let my feet dangle above the water. I sit there for an hour or so and just let nature call out to me. I’ll sit there and stare at the radiant teal ocean water. It is so clean, so lively, and just so simple. Absolutely stunning to see.
If I’m lucky, a light wind will pick up. When that happens, I’ll close my eyes and let my senses take over and allow me to live in the moment.
The wind, it caresses my body through its cold breath. It’ll start with my hair and slowly make its way down to my toes. The cold breeze tingles my body and causes goosebumps along the way. As the wind traces my body, my ears will pick on the ocean waves as it hits the shores of my beautiful island. When the wind and the waves come together, they make a soothing harmony.
Whoooosshhhhh.
That’s all I’ll hear. That’s all I need.
Behind me, I can smell the diesel from the cars pulling up to my beautiful happy place. They have no idea of the beauty they’ll soon witness. The soothing sounds that will bring their realty to a quick stop. They are not aware of the fact that they are about to embark on one of the most peaceful journeys of their life. The walk-through to Maui Bay.
Finding Our 5 Senses 