A lot of the time, I lay awake in the middle of the night thinking.
Overthinking really.
Everyone else in the house will be asleep, occupied with their own dreams. My own thoughts keeping me company. The light in the hallway would pool into the doorway of my bedroom, though it stayed languid. Eventually I would fall asleep but only for a couple hours until it’s early into the morning. I’d say around four, or even six am at the very least. I don’t exactly understand why my body does this, nor if my current age and sleeping times are the exact cause of this consuetude. I would usually go back to sleep and wake up much later into the day. Cause’ the odds of me waking up early is very low.
The gaps between me and sleep are usually filled with peculiar thoughts about the future, my art, or something completely out of the ordinary and just weird as heck. I mean, what do you except from a girl who is half asleep, completely alone, and thinks senselessly way too much. Let alone a girl who is me. Sure, I end up pondering a lot of things all at once. But one thought always stays in the back of my mind, surfacing at miscellaneous moments that usually lead to a longer endeavor of thought. And those thoughts circulate around each other like a swarm of mosquitoes or wasps. And that is;
One’s past life.
*dunH duNH DUNH
(O . o)
SO SPOOKY.
Reincarnation was a process I came to truly learn last year. After reading various books in which my history teacher supplied due to our lessons mostly rotating around the history and philosophy of Buddhism, at the time.
According to various texts, reincarnation or rebirth is the philosophy in which a living being, after death, takes on a new form, in a new life. Their physical body itself can take on the form of any living animate object. For example a human being, or a creature of the wild.
I feel that reincarnation has a direct connection to the doctrine of past lives; thought same may disagree that it’s an outlandish reverie based of off convictional metaphysics. Some may fancy the idea of having lived multiple lives under different personas in times before their current state.
Me, well. I guess I’m a little bit of both. I like hard-core facts, scientific reasoning, you know to make it all the more true. But I also relish some good mythology and allegorical stories. And what do you get when you put the two together?
YOU GET BAM.
A MESS.
YEAH.
The theory of past lives are sought out by many people seeking different explanations. But if you think about it, the philosophy behind rebirth takes a different turn on everyone. Depending on who you talk to, these can be based of religion, or just good ol’ belief.
For a while, ever since it had been released I’d been wanting to get the book Becoming, a memoir written by Michelle Obama and originally published in November. And while going through the book, I thought back to my night time pondering and the little past lives shebang. Reading about the life of Michelle Obama, it felt like she was living multiple different lives. But as the same person, though her soul was evolving just as her body. She was the same person going through completely different scenarios she never dreamed she would go through. A more mental form of bodily revival, rather than the said theory of reincarnation.
The main reason why I wanted this book was because she’s such an inspiration to all women out there. A fighter at heart with a burning fire and encouraging us females to never, ever, let ours die out. In my mind, she is one of the countless women who has revolutionized the way we see our own dreams and goals. I’ve read one or two of her husband’s books before, and plenty of books circulating around his eight years in office. As commander in chief, and so on. But it’s even better to read from the perspective of the person who is experiencing everything her husband does. But feeling emotions you won’t be able to read when they take the podium and give a speech, emotions you won’t be able to feel even when you’re watching them live. Just like millions of other people in the country.
Writing and books are probably the closest thing to magic we’ll ever have. Each one can hold and entire universe so unlike your own, and yet still be right at your fingertips. Books can give you an intimate tour of someone else’s life itself. So instead of standing up in front of a bunch of cameras and mikes, and a teleprompter in their face; people can just sit down at home and write their entire life story as a narrative for the world.
This era of women have broken down barriers that were held against them because of gender, and or by race(s). And in my opinion, these are only a handful of thousands out there who did just that.
Michelle O b a m a
Emma W a t s o n
Amanda L o v e l a c e
Maya A n g e l o u
Ellen D e G e n e r e s
Lupita N y o n g ‘ o
Malala Y o u s a f z a i
Oprah W i n f r e y
J.K. R o w l i n g
Alexandria O c a s i o-C o r t e z
And can we just take a second to just appreciate the absolute brilliance of all of these women? And not only women; just human beings in general. I mean teachers, scientists, firefighters, policemen, men and women serving in the army. And just the people who have been so crucial in building the foundations of not only this nation, but all around the world.
Now here’s a little background on how I actually got my hands on a copy of Becoming. Or rather, how the book managed to find it’s way towards yours truly(aka ME).
My parents got me a copy for Christmas.
It was really simple, not a complicated affair of course. My parents have just accepted the fact that I would take a book over anything. Including food and basic hydration. Courtesy to the stack of books that always end up in my grasp at the dinner table. And then a thorough scolding afterwards. If you don’t believe me just picture me hiding out in my bedroom cuddling in a bundle on my couch near the window and reading with no other light except for a simple lamp to my right side. A steaming mug of tea and earbuds in my ears with music washing over me through my phone. Sketchbook always beside me in the constant scenario in which an idea will spark from my brain to my hands. Happens everyday and takes up the gap of time between almost every meal or homework session.
*Cue another meticulous scolding from my parents.
It’s quite hilarious after a while and even my parents get a good laugh out of it.
Anyway, Christmas morning, I woke up to the sounds of my little brother bounding from his bedroom to mine and whispering with a light in his eyes;
I swear I would’ve been convinced my kid brother was a snake whisperer if I hadn’t fully opened my eyes and stumbled out of bed; just in time to see him leap military style into my parent’s room and proceed to clamber on top of them in his ecstatic state of happiness. Letting the same message he delivered vocally to me and then to my parents. Which led to a series of irritated groans and choking sounds from my dad. And a tired nod and smile from my mom.
The whole process to get my parents up and out of bed on Christmas morning is something that all of us kids dreaded. Nice to see gifts under a decked out tree with my name on them. Everyone’s happy and candy everywhere! Who wouldn’t be absolutely ecstatic to see that!?
Well my parents apparently!
(It took at least a half hour to get them up and out of bed, which is less than what it usually takes mind you.)
Anyway, I got various presents that I liked, but one of my favorites was definitely the brand new hardcover copy of Becoming. With a nice baby blue background and Michelle Obama beaming in the cover. As my siblings opened the rest of their presents, I started pouring of the pages of the book and refused to put the book down for a few days afterwards.
Michelle Obama didn’t want to just be the wife of a politician with a large title. Always smiling, living a life that gave her a direct title right above her head. No, she had plans of her own that she wanted to set forth. To get her own podium and stand on it. Say what’s on her mind and let it set forth.
If the possibility of her husband becoming president was close of course. Michelle Obama revolutionized the persona of the FLOTUS(First Lady of the United States) role. She shattered the mold of a smiling, loyal spouse that only spoke when told to. She smiled when she wanted to, she spoke when she wanted to. She wasn’t just the First Lady; she was a respected women who had power and used it graciously. Using her voice with intense purpose that defied the behavioral aspects of past First Ladies.
And throughout the book she uses a style of writing that doesn’t sound regal or formal. She writes as if we’re talking over some lemonade in a nice little cafe or something. Like good friends just having a seat under the sun.
Being born and raised in the South Side of Chicago, a place in which one(at the time)would never expect a graduate of Princeton and Harvard to be brought up. Gender and race was a massive spectacle in her life. Especially since she was African American, and a women. She gives a firsthand look into her life as she grew up. Showing the ambitions and everyday occurrences of her life in a neighborhood populated mostly by African American citizens.
Her family lived in the second floor of a brick bungalow. The house itself being owned by her great-aunt and her husband. Her great aunt being a piano teacher; the constant plinks and plunks of the piano keys would be a musical constant in the afternoons. A normalcy in the life of young Michelle LaVaughn Robinson; dubbed “Mich” by her family. Her father worked for the city, working with boilers in a water filtration plant. Her mother stayed at home with Michelle, and Craig, her brother. Her father suffered from multiple sclerosis. A disease in which the immune system eats away at protective coverings on the nerves. Though, I don’t think suffered is the best way to put it.
Like most parents/guardians out there, Fraser and Marian Robinson both made sacrifices, pouring their whole being towards their children and making sure to raise them to be a set of decent human beings to inhabit the busy workplace of adult life. Michelle’s father rarely said anything. If he was feeling pain, he most certainly wouldn’t show it.
Michelle and Craig were both extremely close, growing up, they shared a bedroom, which was basically their living room but with a partition for privacy. Reading of this sibling relationship, it honestly reminded me of my own.
Of course my siblings and I have a more rigorous interrelation.
I’ve come to realize that no matter where you’re from, sibling relationships are all almost the same. Disagreements, backstabbery, getting questioning looks from parents, teaming up in certain moments against a duo of power(aka our parents)sticking up for each other etc. Just one glance and we suddenly have this homologous kinda thing going on in our minds. Thinking in a kind of silent understanding.
Now when my parents read this their gonna be like Ha, silent understanding my face. But seriously when my brother makes something and ends up showing me, or is geeking out over someone television show, he’ll obviously look to my opinion. And one of two things will happen;
“Oh my gosh that’s so(insert melodramatic adjective)!”
or
“Lol noob!”
Either way, both statements are the sibling equivalent of I love you; in any case really. It’s like the secret code of not losing our dignity. But hey all siblings out there are Birthright Besties y’all.
Michelle Robinson in front of her father’s Buick Electra
I would say that Michelle and Craig Robinson had a relationship similar to that. Just less. . .
Morbid.
Their parents trusting them to the point where there was no need to fight. But there would be occasional verbal brawls here and there. Especially at stages of distress. But Mrs. Obama made it clear that she had a childhood that was simple and golden, leading up to the happy memories that kept her going when she was down as she grew up.
In that portion, it kinda gave me a sense that she didn’t want her life to be singled out just because she was the First Lady. I knew there were going to be other signs similar to that one. Possibly for multiple reasons. And it can be interpreted differently. But I like the way she inadvertently emphasized the fact that her life wasn’t like the ones of the previous wives of the president. And not just because she was a African American women.
With leading figures, every movement, word spoken, any basic action; can be taken extremely seriously. With her writing style, she emphasized the fact that she was just as human as anyone else. That her and her husband’s lives shouldn’t be written with bold and italicized. That every simple obscenity shouldn’t be taken as a massive scandal sweeping the internet like an unruly riptide. Of course that seems almost impossible in the dawn of technological advancements and sensitive minds.
One thing I found a little interesting was, the fact that Michelle wanted absolutely nothing to do with the mess that was politics. But instead she would admire the men and women she would see walking the sidewalks in their blazers and suits, walking briskly and carrying themselves with purpose. And Michelle was ambiguous about this as well. To carry herself with the same look of purpose. But what I also learned was that she was a good student and always tried hard, but there would be moments where her grades could be slightly saddening. And I can agree wholeheartedly on that. And ironically, one of my favorite lines that she said(not in the book though, sorry). Is:
“If my future were determined just by my performance on a standardized test, I wouldn’t be here. I guarantee you that.”
And I can agree on that too. I mean look at Walt Disney, Steve Jobs, Gandhi, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Bill Gates. Some dropping out of school, some fighting to protect their country or their rights. Now look at what impact they’ve had on the world! Mickey Mouse now embodies the happiness of children and adults alike, look at any piece of tech in your house and look at the ground breaking changes between the twenty and twenty-first century. You a history nerd? Well the name Alexander Hamilton should be more familiar. Michelle Obama has gone through some hardships of her own, but that never stopped her from being ambitious and setting goals for herself to reach. Especially in school.
While her study in Harvard she was an associate attorney at Sidley & Austin in Chicago. And oh man, this love story I’m about to tell you is literally going to knock you off your feet.
She hated him.
Okay, maybe hate is a strong word.
I think a more suitable adjective would be unimpressed.
Michelle first met Barack Obama when he was taking a position over the summer in the law firm she worked at. And her first impression of the dude was a geek with a massive smile. And cute in a skeptical kinda way. I mean c’mon, a girl’s gotta have her standards. Michelle even attempted to get Barack together with some of her friends. But like most unlikely loves, romance just refused to leave Michelle Robinson without a fight.
Michelle thought he had a peculiar name, he was laid back, maybe even too laid back if you will. He was late to his first interview, and his most casual outfit for an outing( see what I did there?)looked and I quote, “directly out of the closet of Miami Vice.” But as most romances go, they slowly grew closer and enjoyed the minor qualities each one had. But one of my favorite parts in this portion of the book was when Michelle was up late at night with a skeptical looking Barack.
He looked vaguely troubled, as if he were pondering something deeply personal. Was it our relationship? The loss of his father?
“Hey, what’re you thinking about over there?” I whispered.
He turned to look at me, his smile a little sheepish. “Oh,” he said. “I was just thinking about income inequality.”
Income inequality.
INCOME INEQUALITY.
I’ve said some pretty odd things when I’m sleep deprived, *cough*overseas travel*cough*. But it never went to the point where I was having a mental existential crisis.
But it also goes to show just how far their relationship went. I mean look at this adorable picture:
And you could tell just from the looks on their faces. Those are looks of sweet satisfaction from gaining someone in the world to balance you when you’re in a dark state of mind. For example, when Michelle was coping with the death of her father. Or when Barack needed someone to turn to when he was politically stressed out.
And do you know what else this metaphor reminds me of?
Weeble Wobbles.
I remember seeing television commercials of these things when I was a kid. They were these little egg thingies that could literally-NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU TRY-get knocked over. I used to play with them in my kindergarten classroom too. And while everyone else found it absolutely hilarious when they would just wobble around, I would be furiously trying to press them down hard enough so they wouldn’t just teeter back up again. Just thinking about the trauma of that gives me a migraine.
*shudder*
Anyway, the only reason they reminded me of Michelle and Barack is they didn’t always have a steady relationship, they could always depend on each other. Morale of the story is,
Find someone to be the weeble to your wobble.
That is the end of my TED Talk.
Here’s a short excerpt from Becoming, in which Michelle circulates in the early stages of her marriage with Barack.
“It sounds a little like a bad joke, doesn’t it? What happens when a solitude-loving individualist marries an outgoing family woman who does not love solitude one bit?
The answer, I’m guessing, is probably the best and most sustaining answer to nearly every question arising inside a marriage, no matter who you are or what the issue is: you find ways to adapt. If you’re in it for ever, there’s really no choice.
Which is to say that at the start of 1993, Barack flew to Bali and spent about five weeks living alone with his thoughts while working on a draft of his book Dreams from My Father, filling yellow legal pads with his fastidious handwriting, distilling his ideas during languid daily walks amid the coconut palms and lapping tide. I, meanwhile, stayed home on Euclid Avenue, living upstairs from my mother, Marian, as another leaden Chicago winter descended, shellacking the trees and sidewalks with ice. I kept myself busy, seeing friends and hitting workout classes in the evenings. In my regular interactions at work or around town, I’d find myself casually uttering this strange new term – “my husband”. My husband and I are hoping to buy a home. My husband is a writer finishing a book. It was foreign and delightful and conjured memories of a man who simply wasn’t there. I missed Barack terribly, but I rationalized our situation as I could, understanding that even if we were newlyweds, this interlude was probably for the best
He had taken the chaos of his unfinished book and shipped himself out to do battle with it. Possibly this was out of kindness to me, a bid to keep the chaos out of my view. I’d married an outside-the-box thinker, I had to remind myself. He was handling his business in what struck him as the most sensible and efficient manner, even if outwardly it appeared to be a beach vacation – a honeymoon with himself (I couldn’t help but think in my lonelier moments) to follow his honeymoon with me.
You and I, you and I, you and I. We were learning to adapt, to knit ourselves into a solid and for ever form of us. Even if we were the same two people we’d always been, the same couple we’d been for years, we now had new labels, a second set of identities to wrangle. He was my husband. I was his wife. We’d stood up at church and said it out loud, to each other and to the world. It did feel as if we owed each other new things.
For many women, including myself, “wife” can feel like a loaded word. It carries a history. If you grew up in the 1960s and 1970s as I did, wives seemed to be a genus of white women who lived inside television sitcoms – cheery, coiffed, corseted. They stayed at home, fussed over the children, and had dinner ready on the stove. They sometimes got into the sherry or flirted with the vacuum-cleaner salesman, but the excitement seemed to end there.
Personally, as a kid, I preferred The Mary Tyler Moore Show, which I absorbed with fascination. Mary had a job, a snappy wardrobe, and really great hair. She was independent and funny, and unlike those of the other ladies on TV, her problems were interesting. She had conversations that weren’t about children or homemaking. She didn’t let Lou Grant boss her around, and she wasn’t fixated on finding a husband. She was youthful and at the same time grown-up. In the pre- pre- pre-internet landscape, when the world came packaged almost exclusively through three channels of network TV, this stuff mattered. If you were a girl with a brain and a dawning sense that you wanted to grow into something more than a wife,
And here I was now, 29 years old, sitting in the very same apartment where I’d watched all that TV and consumed all those meals dished up by the patient and selfless Marian Robinson. I had so much – an education, a healthy sense of self, a deep arsenal of ambition – and I was wise enough to credit my mother, in particular, with instilling it in me.
She’d taught me how to read before I started kindergarten, helping me sound out words as I sat curled like a kitten in her lap, studying a library copy of Dick and Jane. She’d cooked for us with care, putting broccoli and brussels sprouts on our plates and requiring that we eat them. She’d hand sewn my prom dress, for God’s sake. The point was, she’d given diligently and she’d given everything. She’d let our family define her. I was old enough now to realize that all the hours she gave to me and my brother, Craig, were hours she didn’t spend on herself.
My considerable blessings in life were now causing a kind of psychic whiplash. I’d been raised to be confident and see no limits, to believe I could go after and get absolutely anything I wanted. And I wanted everything. I wanted to live with the hat-tossing, independent-career-woman zest of Mary Tyler Moore, and at the same time I gravitated toward the stabilizing, self-sacrificing, seemingly bland normalcy of being a wife and mother. I wanted to have a work life and a home life, but with some promise that one would never fully squelch the other. I hoped to be exactly like my own mother and at the same time nothing like her at all. It was an odd and confounding thing to ponder. Could I have everything? Would I have everything? I had no idea.”
Reading her book, she also emphasized herself in a way that didn’t make you feel like she was on a whole different level on the social scale. She is just as human as anyone else. She accentuated that by giving us a detailed verbal tour of her everyday life when it came to balancing family and her career.
Her daughters, at the time of her husband’s campaigning; were both young and had needs only their mother could provide. And in the early stages of her husband’s campaign trail Mrs. Obama was advised by her husband’s team to spend time with Democrats in specific states. I believe her first mission was to go to every corner of Iowa, and win over leaders, address groups of citizens, etc. Basically having to fly to Iowa every week and talk to a bunch of strangers and kiss other people’s babies. On top of that, she had her own career as a the Vice President of Community and External Affairs for the University of Chicago Hospitals.
And aside from all of that, there was always one question running through her head;
“Am I good enough?”
This is a question a lot of other people my age ask too. Everyday when we pass a mirror, when someone gets a higher score on a test, when someone is more likeable at school. But also because of the way society depicts us. She would ask this question in her head when she was in different job positions, when she became First Lady of the United States.
I’m willing to talk to a lot of people and I find satisfaction in stating my opinion to everyone with a spunk and pride. But, I’m not the most social person either. And when reading this area of the book, I could relation on a personal level every time she questioned whether she was good enough for a high position in society. But look at the pride in her face. That all of the questioning and struggling was worth it. The sigh of relief when you realize Hey people actually like us for who we are! and the look of And if they don’t? So what?
I’m going to stop right here and say that Michelle Obama has become and even more admirable person to me ever since I finished reading her book and I hope you can have the same experience by at least skimming a copy or a PDF of it. Glancing over the book jacket would suffice! Reason I’m stopping here is because the rest of the book gives insight on her life in the White House and things she had to live with and learn in her time as FLOTUS. And if I typed it out here, in the open for everyone to read. It was spoil the joy of reading it for yourself. So one last thing before I sign off.
disclaimer: the image used for the thumbnail is not mine,all rights go to the rightful owners.
Imagine you were overlooking Earth from a new perspective from above. Not from a space module. Not from a ship.
Just you.
The only things surrounding you, are the stars disseminated across the black sky. Your hair askew from the lack of gravity, your legs fighting their way to follow suit. Imagine that, but instead of just seeing the Earth as a whole, you see different fragments. Shards driving themselves towards you like fish propelling themselves away from one predator now haunting the waters. Each bit shooting by, giving just enough time to let you view each one.
A millisecond.
That’s all it takes.
They cut you, leaving any part that was exposed, with a thin crimson slit. Warm, carmine liquid slowly seeping out of each one. But they don’t hurt, they don’t sting. They feel like every single bit of happiness you have ever felt in your entire life, is attacking you and your heart. A warm feeling spreads throughout each cell in your body compiles in approval. Your veins are pumping and the adrenaline never leaves. Your eyes creases in the corners as your mouth forms a grin that is seen throughout the entirety of the cosmos.
Only seconds later, fragments of laughter are encasing you. Caressing your body like a loving mother to her child. Your drowning, with each new particle, a new smile, a new laugh, a new light added into your eyes. The joy you have caused emanating back at you.
This is the feeling I get when I can make people happy. Leave them wondering who they are, leave them with the biggest grin on their faces. I think, no, I know
it’s the most amazing feeling the the world. I bet my father, my mother, and just about any comedian, artist, musician, actor, anybody. They would all agree with me. I have no doubt that you guys do either. When your own happiness if drowning you it’s incredible. I mean don’t get me wrong, I can’t get enough of it. But when you’re the cause of someone else’s happiness; that’s when I agree to disagree. No matter how minuscule the moment, no matter how prolonged the hours. That feeling, you can’t it’s just impossible to describe. But at the same time I have a thousand words ambushing my mind about this feeling and its overwhelming yet true.
Now, I remember posting a couple months ago, in late December actually, my dad introduced me to Jim Carrey. I was familiar with his face and the eminence his career offered him. I mean even the drama teacher at my school talks about the guy. I mean he’s like the Starbucks of educational theatrical performance. I also have this simple knowledge due to my dad’s quite indulgent words towards the esteemed male actor. I mean if my dad respects the man, than I can assure myself that he’s a person worth my own attention and personal appreciation. But this man. He is absolutely
insane.
Insane in a way that he is willing to take risks. Insane to be able to have the guts and the grit to do what he does everyday. Insane that he is one of the human being’s in the universe that understands the value of life.
I’m not saying I do, because I’m only thirteen. I have a long time to figure that out. I’ve barely brushed the surface of looking in different lines of everything. But Jim Carrey, he’s fifty six years old and figured out what he wants for himself. And other people.
The ability to laugh until you have tears glistening in your eyes.
Smile until your cheeks hurt and maybe even feel like you won’t be able to even speak anymore because of it.
Feel happiness bubbling inside you. A warm pit in your stomach that can’t be described, and yet a thousand words can portray it.
Butterflies fluttering along each artery in your heart and drinking the sweet passion your heart has to offer.
Jim Carrey has a lot of butterflies. I don’t need to watch hundreds of his movies at a time to find that out.
You may be rejoicing to hear that I was in the mood to do exactly that a few weeks previous of today. And that day’s selection consisted of me scrolling through Netflix for the first fifteen minutes before actually picking something.
I’m really picky with the things I watch and listen to. Don’t judge me.
I saw a bunch of movies from the late 1990’s and early 2000’s so I decided to give one a go. The one I decided to pick obviously ended up being a Tom Hanks movie.
I’m just messin’ with you guys, it was obviously a Jim Carrey movie. I mean do you seriously expect me to be writing a super deep and heartfelt introduction based off Jim Carrey and then swerve on over and completely change the topic to Tom Hanks? I admire him just as I would anyone but I was just making a joke. Sorry Tom Hanks but you have to wait for your allusive, life metaphorical statements based of you and or one of your other movies.
you know what never mind.
I’ve been watching a lot of other clips of Jim Carrey’s best performances, but what I have noticed is that in each and every movie clip that I have seen, he has this way of looking directly into the camera. As if we are actually standing there with him in the scene. Whether it being on a boat sailing along the Niagara Falls, a man made moon satellite somehow supporting itself in the sky, or standing beside a gargantuan chocolate chip cookie. He looks directly into the screen as if he was telling us, “Hello there, I know you are only the viewer of this film, but you are important and I want you to know that.”
I just, I don’t know, to me it feels that way and you can call me crazy but I just. I don’t know. You need to watch his performances on screen and you’ll understand. At least one. And you’ll understand.
I scrolled and found one thumbnail that caught my eye on the screen that was peculiar and yet interesting. It had an image of Jim Carrey but with him holding the Earth by it’s threads. No literally, he was literally holding the Earth by a piece of white twine or something. I decided to put it and about fifteen minuted into the movie, my dad walks in from are back door and see’s me on the couch, along with my brother. Both of our eyes glued to the television, whatever that was happening on screen, reflected on our eyes and danced along our irises. The change in my dad’s sluggish movements was definitely worth putting on that movie though. He was tired and looked worn out from going to the gym and than coming back to help my mom out in our backyard to water the vast array of plants and such. But the instant he saw what my brother and I were so diligently watching, his eye practically lit up.
My dad and I, I love to say, share this unspoken interest in sharing things the other would obviously love or find amusement or interest in. For me, I like showing me dad peculiar scientific, tech-based articles or videos. For me, my dad shows me an array of things. It can be anything really movies, actors, stories, tips, art, music, whatever. The both of us are so alike, and yet so different. The same blood but different mindsets. But we always have these small interest, small loves in common. Jim Carrey is now added to this list.
The movie stars a man of the name Bruce. No not Bruce the millionaire techie from Batman. This is Bruce Nolan. And I daresay, Mr. Nolan isn’t very happy with his life right now. He is a T.V. anchor but his boss is practically stalling, and basically making sure that Bruce doesn’t get the job handed to him. This basically pisses him off a lot. I mean not low key oh I failed in the one thing I absolutely love and dedicate my livelihood to, it’s okay I’ll just take pottery. No he was a full blown like;
YOU DARE DISRESPECT HOW MUCH WORK I HAVE PUT INTO THIS JOB AND THIS IS HOW YOU TREAT ME CURSE YOU AND YOUR STUPID PERFECT HAIR AND CAMERAS AND FLASHY LIGHTS AND MAKEUP AND PUTTING ME IN JOBS THAT MAKE ME INTERACT WITH PEOPLE THAT YOU KNOW SHOULD NOT BE TELEVISED ON SCREEN. YOU AR MAKING ME LOOK LIKE A FOOL AND I AM PRACTICALLY GOING INSANE CAN’T YOU TELL.
I mean he gets mad to the point where you might think his head is going to burst right of his head. I mean I was actually concerned for the poor guy. This leads to him doing an awful interview live that ends up with him getting fired.
Now he isn’t even mad at himself. He chucking all of this newfound anger at God. He’s basically saying “You now what God? I can do a better job, I can give other people success make em’ happy. Yeah, just you wait.” Oh oh oh oh but here’s the catch. THIS ACTUALLY LEADS TO WHAT MAY BE THE HIGHLIGHT OF THE ENTIRE MOVIE. This whole mishap leads to Bruce meeting God himself. I mean it doesn’t just happen to anyone. I mean I can’t just go around saying, “Hey guys I’m God how ya doin’.” Bruce eventually figures out that he has received God’s powers over the world and basically everything. You now, the usual. While God(who is played by the incredible Morgan Freeman by the way)takes a little vacation which I, in my opinion think he deserved.
Bruce now had control over everything. Convincing people to give him his job, control what other people do, embarrass them without knowing, etc. I mean he literally enlarged the moon and rearranged the stars for goodness sake. But then all of this actually goes to show that there are pressures to being god. There are over six billion people on the earth that he has to look over and do whatever God would. Bruce starts to rethink everything he has done ever since he has gotten his celestial power and one thing is tuck in his mind;
Is it worth it?
This movie, I don’t know where to start. The metamorphacil emphasis that is implied in this story just left me with tears burning my eyes. The plot line itself was nothing I have encountered in any book, movie, screenplay. Nothing. But most importantly, the performance of every single actor in the movie. I have never felt such pity, and yet such a surge when he encounters an obstacle. My heart was practically fluctuating and my eyes were ready with burning tears. I was emotionally interacted with the movie itself and I refused to be pulled back.
Hello everyone, interesting ending there wasn’t it? Well I just I am extremely ashamed of myself. School has been butting into my life and I’m already righting like my life depends on it. I mean I had to write a song for history which was probably the most nerve wrecking assignment i have ever turned in but I got a good grade so it’s all good, Aside from keeping my grade from fluctuating, my sleep schedule is another botched up thing I need to take care of for the sake of my sanity. But right now I am really enjoying school and all but life has been quite hectic. But these kind of movies always just take my mind of everything and relaxes me, even for only a couple hours. And the reason I randomly posted a movie review instead of picking up where I left off from my last post was because I don’t want to be writing similar content for days onward. I wanna keep it interesting you know?
I’m going to be honest, I’m sick of writing things like this at the end of my blogs. Saying all of my apologies. I am the worst writer you have probably encountered. I guess I don’t even count as an actual writer because I’m only thirteen. I have no profession. But this is my passion, one of my burning fires that keeps me going. I hope I could keep it kindling, burning, swallowing me whole.
I just, I know I’ve said this for a lot of posts now but, I am sorry. I really am. I’m not saying this for the sake of saying it. I actually mean it. Because it’s true. I’m sorry if I let you guys down and I hope you can forgive me for basically underestimating my blog. I took advantage and I didn’t take my chances. But I do want to make it up to you guys by attaching the song I wrote for my U.S. history class and I hope you guys enjoy it, and,
thank you.
Patriot:
My matter of contention with the government,
is a difficult statement that can’t be stated in numbers.
My grievances can make you disagree, but before you do that why don’t you take a seat,
near those crates of taxed tea from your petty little island
just floating’ in the sea.
Or why not by that man wearing no coat or fleece.
His eyes with dark circles growing’ beneath,
because he can’t afford a decent homestead to sleep
because this tyrant of a ruler is too busy shopping for a sheepskin rug to match his unconscionable crown.
You think he’s got the human decency to run a country?
Or do you think he’s a tyrant who doesn’t know what he’s got goin’
while everyone is wasting away half dead, and our stability just descending.
Loyalist:
Your so called Founding Father, Thomas Jefferson’s his name?
Enslaving hundreds and has the nerve to be
writing we deserve life, Liberty, and happiness. What about the women? What about the slaves? What about the people just waitin’ in the waters
for some fortune to pass?
Patriot:
Oh like his majesty will care.
Loyalist:
At least he will give a bloody hand when it comes to family and friends.
Patriot:
That is absolutely mad. Insane in other words.
Will care for such things abolish the fact he’s caused bloodshed?
Look at him,
with every act placed I bet half the states are gonna be sinking from tax rates.
Or are we just a burden waiting to be slaved?
Are we a corner of the globe that needs every problem in the states?
Or is that too much credit for his highness to decipher?
Loyalist:
Thomas Jefferson only supports those like him.
The wealthy, the fair skinned, and the ones with more whim.
Patriot:
King George is violating my rights,
your rights,
Our rights!
Don’t you understand what I’m getting at here? Our future is in the line, our families lives are on the line. You think this is all fine? Here have some more wine, for your falsifying tongue to drown in and die.
When we leave this Earth, our descendants will look at our names. They will tell our stories with disdain. And do you really wanna know why? Stupid question to ask so why don’t you give it a try?
We have accomplished nothing, we aren’t doing anything!
Books will consist of pages of war,
stating our weaknesses and don’t worry, there’s much more. We have to fight for our rights, our children’s lives. We have to fight for our freedom for it to arrive. We are in a state with a war at cast, will this end, or will it pass.
Loyalist:
I have only stated my claims for my passion for the people.
Think different. Those are the words that dominate the world, the words that bring inspiration and brought unity to innovators and creators around the world. But what a lot of people that haven’t noticed is that things don’t just happen in under a second, it’s not like “Oh hey, I just had this idea that could probably change the world.” And then the next day it was a hit. No. It’s the complete opposite. If you want to put a ding in the universe, you have to work your heart out for it. You have to pour your heart and soul into your work. It takes not only sweat, but blood and tears. Sweat that represent work, blood that represents hurt, and tears that represent regret. Work, hurt and tears. Those are the three things that represent eighty percent of the worlds population. Those were the three things that were embedded into Steve Jobs’s life.
I believe that in our blood, as Homo Sapiens, we were created to do something for the world. We are brought to the world to be innovators, to put a dent in the universe. It’s in our blood. In our DNA. In our hearts. That’s what I believe. That’s what Steve Jobs believed. Though he didn’t like to mention it. People think that he was either to harsh, to expectant, or to demanding. Stealing other peoples ideas, tinkering them into his own liking. People think he is a horrible person for denying that he is a father. He honestly didn’t have a single clue to what he was doing, let alone what he was doing to his descendants. He still felt the pain of his adoption and family history. I don’t blame him. Not at all. Because in my heart, I believe that just because you feel rejected, doesn’t mean you’re not selected.
I just saw the movie today Steve Jobs, where they featured the series of events that happened from 1984 where they introduced the first Macintosh, to the point where they introduce a new computer in 1988. The director Danny Boyle really had impressed viewers with the way the movie had introduced every small detail into a scene that could define the next twenty minutes( well to Steve the next few years) of the movie. The actor Michael Fassbender perfectly portrayed Steve Jobs with explicit emotion and characteristics.
A lot of people tend to think that either there not working hard enough, or they haven’t gotten their goal to the point they wanted it to be in right away. But all you have to do is just remember to do the thing that drives every mind and soul. Think Different.
What do you think would happen if global warming wiped out the only planet that supports life? What if their was a huge dust bowl that was about to take out the entire human population on the planet? What if I told you that you and a team of other astronauts were going to do interstellar space travel to find a new planet to support mankind? Well if you want to find out what would happen next then you might want to watch Interstellar. This science fiction movie took the world by storm. And will definitely leave a dust bowl in you mind.
A few years into the future, global warming, and a second dust bowl are slowly eating away the planet that supports seven billion peoples lives. But one brilliant professor plans a mission to send all of humankind into a wormhole. But first, they have to send a team of astronauts to find a new planet that has all the things a human needs. Water, wind, and oxygen, and an atmosphere that won’t kill a human in under 2 seconds. NASA sends former NASA pilot, and a team of researchers to go into a wormhole and into the galaxy to find one of three planets that will support human life.
This movie definitely caught the world by storm. bringing on an amazing story line that kept me one my toes as I watched. The graphics were explicitly accurate. And the dialogue was more than meaningful. What surprised the most is how powerful the movie itself was. From the quotes to each and every character’s traits and actions. This movie is perfect for anyone. Especially people who want to find out more about space, and our own survival. And remember this quote from the movie that was probably the best line produced and said in the movie.
“We’ve always defined ourselves by the ability to overcome the impossible. And we count these moments. These moments when we dare to aim higher, to break barriers, to reach for the stars, to make the unknown known. We count these moments as our proudest achievements. But we lost all that. Or perhaps we’ve just forgotten that we are still pioneers. And we’ve barely begun. And that our greatest accomplishments cannot be behind us, because our destiny lies above us.” – Interstellar
Sur-viv-al – Noun – To continue to live or exist in danger or in difficult situations. Many people around the world have to try to define this word to continue to even live. Survival sums up what every human being has to do at least once in their life. Work. You have to work for what you need to fight for. You have to fight for what you need to win. This is basically the key concept to one of my favorite movies in the world. And that movie is The Martian.
A team of astronauts had been sent into space to go to Mars and retrieve samples of the soil and sand. Unfortunately a hostile storm hits, though leaving time for all of the astronauts get safely back to the spacecraft. But leaving behind one man. Mark Watney, a professional botanist, and scientist in botanical studies. The astronauts(and all of Earth’s population) assume that he is dead. Luckily, he was only unconscious, and though had been impaled through his stomach with a piece of debris. He manages to get back to the shelter, holding a meager amount of supplies he can work with to survive his inhospitable stay in Mars . With scientists working day and night to retrieve him, and bring him safely back, the rest of the Mars Mission crew hatch a plan of their own to bring their fellow crew member back.
Though I myself have not been in a situation where I had to use survival as a skill. I was able to feel the urge to shout out an idea or solution to a problem when I watch this movie. And that is exactly what a movie or book should do. What surprised me the most about the book and the movie, is the accuracy. From the spacesuits. To how the author explained how one of the rover’s mechanism worked. This movie is great even if you didn’t read the book or not. The story line is the best and I love the emotion, and the adventure. It is one of the best science/survival movies I have seen. So sometimes you have to remember, “Every human being has a basic instinct to help each other out.” – Andy Weir, author of The Martian
Gravity, it is the thing that is keeping us together, it is keeping us on the ground, it’s making sure we don’t drift away. That’s not the case for two astronauts. Dr. Ryan Stone a very brilliant medical engineer, and veteran Matt Kowalsky are sent into space for a shuttle mission. But then disaster strikes when they go into a spacewalk. The ship is destroyed. Debris floating away slowing in the zero-gravity atmosphere. Leaving Stone and Kowalsky alone being tethered only to each other, drifting away into the darkness of space. Quickly loosing contact with mission control, and loosing sight of Earth itself. Every breath leaving little oxygen eating away chances of survival , but it seems the only way to get back, is to go further. Further into space debris. Further through the cosmos. Further into nothing.
This movie is absolutely incredible. From the story line, to the characters emotions and threats. This movie really brings the audience into the cosmos and brings suspense, fear, and adventure. Bringing a question to everyone. “What would you do, how would you feel, how would you survive? If your obsessed with adventure and sci-fi( like me), or you have no interest in science and space whatsoever. This is a perfect movie for everyone. And remember. Don’t let go.
In fourth grade, our teacher had a huge collection of novels and books that she thought would interest “our expanding imaginations. But honestly those books were actually just comics and books that would bore you the first few minutes you read them, because the students weren’t enjoying the books she thought we would like, instead she brought in classic novels and other books that were actually quite interesting. (Dungeons, dragons, legends, Greek gods, and demigods are definitely things that would entertain me for hours.) But not exactly what the other students had in mind. So our teacher bought copies a new book. A book I didn’t know would change my perspective of how I saw the people around me.
The book had a a shiny cover, and the book itself smelled as if it was just printed. On the cover the background was a shade of sky blue. It also had an illustration of a boy, with black hair, and above his eye stood out the word Wonder. Wonder, that was the title of the book. The book was by the author R.J. Palacio. The book is about a boy, named August that lives in upper Manhattan. But a lot of people don’t know that, he was born with mandibulofacial dysostosis, a rare medical facial deformity. Living his life hiding behind the shadows of his baseball cap. Being home schooled for so many years he is insecure about the fact that he will so be going to Beecher Prep, a public school.
Throughout the book it has the point of view of multiple characters. Showing their thoughts and feelings, their experiences, and their back story’s. I love this book, it made me laugh, cry, and feel the pain and emotion of each and every character. So please read this book, and never lose your sense of wonder.
“When given the choice between being right and being kind, choose kind.” – R.J. Palacio, from Wonder
So I recently read the book series Matched, a dystopian/romance series by the author Allie Condie. It takes place in a utopian society, that is tightly controlled by the government. From what you eat, to when you die. Even you will be your life partner. Cassia Reyes, a 17 year old teen seems to have a glitch in her matching system. Even though this is a young adult book, it is still a really good book that will definitely catch a bookworms eye. (Below is a poem that is shown in the book.)
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Percy Jackson is one of my favorite book series’s. It has fantasy, legends, mythical creatures, and adventure. But what I like best about the series though, is that it’s accuracy in the legends, and how the author defines and explain each and every myth or story told by each character. Rick Riordan(the author) creates an atmosphere in each book made up of suspense, mystery, and of course fantasy. Even though I haven’t actually seen all of the movies that were based on the books, I saw clips and trailers(of course I did), I actually was really impressed on the special effects and how they filmed it. So you should definitely check out the movies to. If you have read all the books, please comment on which one was your favorite. (Mine has to be The Mark of Athena).
I recently saw the latest movie produced by Disney, “Moana.” And there is only one word to describe my emotions towards it: Incredible. It was absolutely incredible. The story line, the characters, the animations, the music. EVERYTHING. But what I like most about this movie is, it represents rebellion. What I mean is, this movie does not show a girl that does what she is told, she follows what her heart says. Instead of showing a princess that only cares about dresses and tiaras. It represents a girl with potential and a heart. This is a message that needs to be spread among the world. Now days girls are not following their heart, but their phone screen. This is also a great movie for people of all ages if your 5 or 50, you will love this movie.
