Inescapable Blanket Of The Dark

I dreamt last night of strange images of death;
See not the wound it makes 
And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell.
Come, thick night!
The moon is down, the candles are all out;
A heavy summons lies upon me
And yet I would not sleep.
The instruments of darkness
Hover through the fog and filthy air.
Present fears are less than horrible imaginings;
Wicked dreams abuse curtained sleep.
Again to sleep;
And sleep in the affliction of these terrible dreams that shake us nightly.
Fair is foul and foul is fair.
Come, sealing night!
What's done is done.
Silver'd in the moon's eclipse,
The death of each day's life
Dwell in doubtful joy.
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
Show me:
Fatal vision,
False creation.
Show me: 
Macbeth shall sleep no more.
The owl scream and crickets cry,
Full of scorpions is my mind.
Good things of the day begin to droop and drouse,
Something wicked this way comes.
Stars, hide your fires;
Let not light see my black and deep desires.
Restrain in me the cursed thoughts;
Thither he will come to know his destiny.
If it were done, it were done quickly.
Till then, 
Torture of the mind to lie in restless ecstasy
Shall sleep no more. 

Monologue

In my monologue, I am portraying Ikemefuna in the scene where he is being taken away from his family by Okonkwo. Throughout my monologue, I talk to myself, my parents and Okonkwo.

I am so confused right now. What did I do?! Am I in trouble? If not, who are you and why have you come for me? And why must I follow you and leave Mbaino? This is my home. This is where I belong...is it not?! I want to know the reason why I'm being taken away from my mother, my father, and my sister. I had never been so terribly petrified in my whole life. Why was this happening to me? Can somebody give me an answer? Anybody!! But...deep down, I already know something bad had happened. But what is it? What had I done? What!! This wasn't fair. I was a good kid. I always did as I was told. I always helped father sow yams and helped mother take care of my three year old sister. Unless...had I disappoint them? Is this why mother is weeping and crying? I'm so sorry mother, please don't cry. I'm sorry for whatever it is that I have done. I truly am. I'll do better next time, I promise. Please father, don't hand me away to this stranger from Umuofia. Please don't. Give me a second chance. But no, I had to face reality and the reality was that my father was handing me over to this stranger. I can sense the agony and pain building and aching in my whole chest. I still don't understand why but...I was...leaving. Will I ever see my sister again? What about my parents?? Wait. But where are we even going?! Back to Umuofia?...And who is this girl beside you?? Is she coming with us? I wanted to ask so many questions to this stranger. Am I ever coming back to Mbaino? Am I going to die? What is my fate?? All these questions but nothing came out of my mouth; its like my voice ran off with the wind. I would cry now...but all I could do was take one last look at my home, my family, their unforgettable faces, and my beloved village. I guess this was goodbye. But I don't care; whether or not I do come back, my heart will always remain at Mbaino. This stranger can take me a million miles away but my spirit will always stay. And why shouldn't it? This was my home. Like I said, this was where I belong. I know it.

What Makes A True Hero?

What is the first thing I think about when somebody asks me for the definition of heroism? Well first and foremost, I think about determination, loyalty, and faith. I believe that all heroes need to be loyal to their people, determined to reach their goals, and have faith that things will be alright. Originally in my multi-paragraph, I've stated that Okonkwo is in fact a hero. I still stand by my argument, however I have realized that even though Okonkwo can be considered a hero, it is later revealed in the novel that Okonkwo also holds many traits that make him unheroic. 


Okonkwo can be considered a hero because he is fearless, determined, independent, and hardworking. He is honored for his personal achievement of throwing the unbeaten wrestler and his successes in war; this makes him brave. Furthermore, being the son of a man who failed miserably in life, Okonkwo didn't give up. He was independent and hardworking. He was determined to reach his goal which was to live a better life than his shameful father. Moreover, Okonkwo is a great role model for many people. He had many achievements which many can only dream of obtaining; these include becoming a wealthy farmer, having three wives, and taking two titles. But the fact that makes him so heroic with all these successes is that he was still very young when he became one of the greatest men of his time. This shows how somebody who had nothing to start with, can work his way up to the top if he had the determination to work hard. 


However, Okonkwo also shows many traits that make him unheroic. For instance, he would beat his wives, most of the time for insignificant reasons; heroes aren't supposed to take their anger out on innocent people. Furthermore, when Okonkwo committed suicide, he lost all faith and loyalty for his tribe. This ultimately made me reconsider whether or not Okonkwo was really a hero. Heroes aren't supposed to give up just because something is going horribly wrong; Heroes are supposed to always find faith to carry on when everything else seems to fall apart. 


In conclusion, I believe Okonkwo is a hero for many reasons. However, I think he is ultimately a tragic hero as he let all of his irrational fears of being weak and his inability to endure watching his village being taken over by the white society, get the best of him. In my opinion, heroes are supposed to give you that last dose of hope when all hope has already seemed to die out, and Okonkwo failed to provide that to his people.

I choose who I love.

In my novel, Sense And Sensibility, the main conflict in the story revolves around the idea of man vs. man. As sisters, Elinor and Marianne are both very demanding for the type of men that they would love and would want to marry. However, the type of men both sisters would choose differs greatly. Elinor prefers someone who is well-read and wise; she doesn't care as much for appearance and she appreciates a man's nobility and reserve. On the other hand, Marianne desires for a man who is romantic; she gets dazzled easily by a man's appearance and she can be persuaded quite easily with a man's ability to act like a gentleman and with his "sweet talk". Consequently, this leads to both sisters criticizing the type of men the other finds suitable to be her other half. Elinor has met a gentleman named Edward Ferrars who she is quite fond of, however Marianne is disappointed to find that he isn't more striking or more passionate about poetry, literature, and art. This is the reason why Marianne feels that her sister is making a big mistake by planning to devote the rest of her life for Edward as she can't see being with a man who can't fully admire, appreciate and show a burning passion for all the things she is fervent about. Moreover, the man whom Marianne has set her eyes on is John Willoughby. Willoughby has swept Marianne off her feet, literally as he comes along to Marianne's rescue when he carries her home after she twists her ankle, but also when she finds out they have much in common. For instance, they both love dancing, music, as well as the same authors. He is also attractive and overly-romantic like Marianne. However, though Marianne admires this young bachelor, Elinor immediately detects his lack of good sense and feels that he isn't the right man for her sister. Instead, Elinor finds Colonel Brandon, who is quite in love with Marianne, the more suitable bachelor for her sister as she admires his good sense. Unfortunately, Marianne finds Colonel Brandon quite boring, unremarkable, and far too old for her to marry. In conclusion, both sisters have trouble getting the others' approval for whom they choose to love.

This definitely reminds me of my life and I'm sure many people who are reading this can relate as well. Though I can't speak for everyone, I personally feel that whenever I get a crush, there is always one person in my life whether its my friends, family, or people in general, who will find the idea of this boy and I being together odd. However, isn't the question always, "don't I choose who I like/love?"  Then wouldn't the question become, "if you really love me, wouldn't you accept who I like if that person makes me happy?" If you're answering yes for both of these questions like me, then how come people still get so much trouble getting the approval of the person they love by their loved ones? I know that these people are probably looking out for that person in case they make the wrong decision but ultimately, most people feel that their ideals for love is "correct" which is why they will try to influence other people to see their principles. Thus, I feel like love will always behold many obstacles in its path as there will be many conflicts encountered whether its learning to ignore what others think or choose to find a man who satisfies everybody but yourself.

Post-Colonialism

Post colonialism is the outcome of colonialism. In other words, it is the results and effects of countries that were colonized by superior European nations. Though the goals of these European nations were originally to gain more raw materials, they also wanted to expand their empires. In order to do this, not only do these nations need to gain more territory but consequently, the indigenous people living in these colonized countries will have to assimilate and acknowledge the culture and customs of European nations. Europeans viewed the indigenous peoples' way of life as foolish and inferior. Thus, the indigenous peoples living in these colonized nations were forced to familiarize themselves with the Europeans' views on life. One of these views are how Whites are seen as good and beautiful whereas Blacks are seen as evil and ugly. 

In the past, and often times in the present, many ads have used racism as a way of getting their point across. By using these controversial ways of proving a point, it really showcases and encourages the idea that being White is much better than being Black. Below is an example:

  

 The above advertisement is for white paint; its showing how the paint is so effective in covering up dark colors that it can cover Blacks in general. This ad sparked a lot of controversy as it basically encourages the idea that White is good and Black is bad; how Black people should try and look more like White people. Since this ad is from an earlier time period, racist thoughts are bound to be part of the society's way of thinking. However, this definitely showcases one of the many outcomes of the post-colonial theory.

Link to the ad: http://www.holytaco.com/25-vintage-racist-ads/

Pack your bags and lets jet off to Paris!

 See any fallacies?

Paris is such a beautiful city; everyone should go there for a visit at least once in their lifetime. It has everything a girl would want--fashion, food, scenery, love, and not to mention, the Eiffel Tower! My future husband should either let me move there or I'll be a miserable girl for the rest of my life! Besides, I already checked a couple of surveys online and over 200,000 students voted Paris as the most desired location to live. With this evidence, obviously moving to Paris would be the smartest decision; everybody must be living wonderful lives there! I've visited Paris last year and I don't see how anybody would not want to move there. The people are so friendly and speaking French is such an important skill to have in life. In addition, many celebrities such as Johnny Depp even moved to Paris, therefore, Paris must be an excellent city. However, if there is absolutely no way I can move to Paris, I am definitely going there for my future honeymoon. It would be the best destination! After all, everybody agrees that its the most romantic city on this planet. But if I don't go to Paris at least once more in my life, my heart will break and I'll get so depressed that I'll become emo and I'll start thinking that life isn't worth living anymore. Then my parents will have to pay thousands of dollars to get me some help from a psychiatrist and since we're not rich, these payments will bankrupt my family. This would ruin my parents' life since they won't have any savings left to support their retirement, but it would ultimately ruin my life! Bottom line, going to Paris is like a mosquito sucking blood out of its victim; I'd die if I don't have it. 

Elinor and Marianne Dashwood

In Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen, there are actually two protagonist characters in this classic tale: two sisters, Elinor and Marianne Dashwood. Elinor is the nineteen year old eldest daughter of Mr. and Mrs.Henry Dashwood. She is known to be the perfection of sense as she is affectionate and though her feelings are strong, she knows how to keep them under control. Her mother qualifies her as her counsellor because her advice is full of understanding and good judgment. Elinor begins to fall for Edward Ferras, the brother of her half-sister-in-law. Though it is implied that Elinor likes Edward, she doesn't yet completely admit her feelings for him as she is unsure of Edward's feelings for her. Since her mother and her younger sister both look up to her, as a result,  Elinor is a composed, mature young woman who understands how to act morally and with compassion. On the other hand, Marianne is the seventeen year old second daughter of Mr. and Mrs.Henry Dashwood. She is known to be the perfection of sensibility as she is more emotional about the events that happen in her life than her sister is. For instance, Marianne had a much more heart-felt and tearful goodbye to their home at Norland than the rest of her family. Furthermore, Marianne has high expectations for love; she dreams of finding a man with taste, spirit, class, charm, style, and fire in his eyes. She doesn't particularly approve of her sister's choice of Edward Ferras as she thinks he doesn't embody the things she looks for in a "perfect man". However, Marianne supports her sister and her choice of Edward as long as she sees that he makes her happy. But the more Marianne thought of it, the more she feared she wouldn't find a man for herself; she feels that she may be asking for so much that a man of her dreams won't exist. Both sisters embodies sensibility and sense in their features but both lacks one or the other. As a result, Elinor and Marianne both help each other through their difficulties in life. For me, I feel like I can relate more to Marianne than Elinor. Maybe its because shes around the same age as me and so we have more of the same experiences. She hasn't yet fallen in love yet and neither have I. I, too, have my ideals for a perfect man and haven't learned the ways of Elinor. Though I am the eldest sibling in my family, I don't embody as much maturity and sense as Elinor does. I wouldn't call myself immature but certainly, I have a lot more to learn and to experience which is exactly like Marianne. Furthermore, I tend to be over-emotional as well; I probably resemble sensibility more than sense. Lastly, just like Marianne, I am too, curious as to what its like to fall in love. Though I know it'll happen one day, I too, have my expectations of the type of person it'll be with. In conclusion, I feel like Elinor is the type of person whom any younger sibling can look up to and that Marianne is more relatable to since she shares a lot of the same characteristics as me.

Quote of the Day

“Don’t count the days, make the days count” – Muhammad Ali

Two Months Left.

If I could send a valentine to anyone, I would send one to my grandma. She's been through a lot in the past year, having almost lost her life in a terrible accident. Fortunately, she survived and made a miraculous recovery. I haven't seen her in about two years now and I miss her terribly. Other than my dad, shes probably my best friend in the family.  Furthermore, due to the time difference between Canada and Taiwan, its extremely difficult to call her up for a real conversation. Because of this, I feel like my heart has saved up a million messages for her! So what better day to express all my appreciation and love for her than St. Valentines Day! I have written her a poem as she loves poetry. She would read me poems instead of story books as a kid! If I wanted to listen to a fairytale before bed, I remember having to ask my mom! 
Anyways, this one's for you grandma! I love you. 

Its St.Valentine's today

And I hate how you're so far away.

I know I talked to you on the phone,

And though my voice has never shown 

Any sign of grief or sadness,

I can't help but miss you to the point of madness.

Daddy says you're completely recovered 
And that you're okay,

But I can't help but worry and pray

Until I see you smiling 
As you get off that airplane.

I heard that your new self glows;

That your hair is white

And bright

Like an angel's halo.

But though you had to change,

Nothing will change you as my hero.

You have made it to the hardest stage 

In life and you lived without any sorrow. 

I can't wait to see you two months from today,

When you finally come to Canada! Hurray!

I've long waited to give you a hug

And give you your hand-made mug 

That Ryan and I made last Saturday.

Grandma, I don't say this enough 

But I love you so much! 

Thank you for all that you've done, 

Happy Valentines Day.

Just Believe in Yourself

Currently in my fourth year of high school, I'd say that I'm a lucky girl with friends and family who are constantly supporting me. These people are the ones who are always helping me get through all the challenges that I face everyday. However, they can't help me if I'm the obstacle in my own path; sometimes in life, the greatest challenges we face is with ourselves.

It was in early October 2010 when Mrs.Carter gave our French class a huge project. I was partners with Diamella who was one of my best friends; both of us glanced immediately at one another when Mrs.Carter announced that we could choose our own partners. The project was due the next week, which meant that we had at least four to five days to work on it.

"So, Diamella! Do you want to work on the project today after school?" I asked. The girls sitting next to us gave me a slightly annoyed glare; one of them turned her head slightly to the side to roll her eyes.

"Sure" Diamella said with a smile. I knew what they were thinking; they thought that we were "keeners". Nobody thought it was necessary to start the project when we were given so much time; everyone was just socializing. The boys sitting across from us were having a heated debate about basketball teams. Then Mrs.Carter came towards our table. 

"Shhhhh! Wait, we'll discuss this in a sec. Here comes Carter!!" one boy hissed under his breath.

"So, have you guys gotten your ideas down on paper yet?" asked Mrs.Carter. Both Diamella and I nodded and showed her our outline of ideas. Giving up a small smile, we could tell that she was impressed with our progress. She turned her glance over to the boys.

"Ah yes, we're still working on ours Mrs.Carter! We have all our ideas, we just need to write them down on paper!" one boy said in a rush. Unimpressed, Mrs.Carter went to the next table. After she left, the boys shot us a sharp glare and after a sigh of relief, they returned to their heated debate.

Both Diamella and I were one of the better students in our French class. Diamella spoke with an accent of a true Parisian while I had good grammar that made it seem as though I've been speaking French for most of my life. Therefore, Diamella wasn't too worried about the assignment. I, on the other hand, couldn't stop staring at the clock. My body started to tense up and the palms of my hands started to sweat. My heartbeat started to pick up its pace and I started to fidget with my eraser. When will the bell ring?!?! I was in a rush to start this project.

"Calm down Kitty! We have plenty of time to work on this project until presentation day!" said Diamella. But I couldn't calm down; in fact, I haven't felt so tense and stressed out in a long time. Every muscle in my body locked together in a million knots. Not even a professional masseuse could get me to relax.

After school that day and for the next three days, we worked intensely on that assignment. We wrote the skit, typed it up, finished the poster, edited everything, re-edited, and re-edited the project some more. Then we practiced the overall presentation over a hundred times! Okay, maybe not a hundred...but it sure felt like it!

Now, it was the day before presentations; by now, Diamella and I probably did practice a hundred times! When I got home, I practiced my part some more even though we already practiced after school. But, I just couldn't help it; I was nervous! No matter how much time we spent preparing, I still didn't feel ready to present in front of the entire class. In the end, I practiced about five more times that night. On the day of presentations, my entire body was quivering and my hands started to shake violently.

Diamella placed her hand on top of mine, "Don't worry K! We got this! We practiced a billion times! I bet that by now, we already know our lines by heart!"

"B-b-but what if I mess up?! Oh my god...I don't think I remember my first line! What if I-"

"Don't worry K! With all the practice and effort we put into this project, I know that we will nail this!" Diamella said with a promising voice. 

She was right! We received the highest mark in the class and Mrs.Carter was extremely impressed with both of us! 

"Très bien! Fantastique!" she exclaimed! Only after hearing those words could I take a sigh of relief. After giving me a high five, Diamella gave me a sarcastic glare.

"What did I tell you?" she said with a triumphant smile. 

"I know...I know...I over-stressed" I said, admitting defeat. 

I realized that I was worrying over nothing this entire time. Both Diamella and I had excellent French. I was over-thinking all our possible mistakes so much that I made myself believe that our presentation would be a complete disaster. Part of the reason I got so stressed was because Mrs.Carter does put a lot of pressure on me. Being in her class makes me feel like I'm climbing a never-ending tree. I can never reach the top; no matter how amazing my French may be, she will still criticize me. If I happen to improve, my goal to get to the top of the tree will just get harder because her standards for me will just get higher. One small mistake is like struggling to stay on the tree as a big gust of wind threatens to knock me off. It makes the goal that much harder to reach. Additionally, being one of Mrs.Carter's favorite students is not as good as one would think. I constantly feel this extra pressure to impress her which makes me feel the need to work ten times harder. However, even Mrs.Carter was surprised to learn how two of her top students spent so much time practicing. As the butterflies left my stomach and as my muscles unlocked one by one, I realized that this time, the real pressure was really from myself and not from Mrs.Carter. 

Thus, sometimes the greatest obstacle standing in our way is really ourselves. Deep down, I knew I was perfectly capable of performing this French skit and completing this assignment on time, but I was too self-demanding. Ultimately, I lacked self-confidence in myself. Both my partner and my teacher had confidence in me; they both knew I could do this assignment well. My paranoia made the project seem much harder and impossible to ace than it actually was; I was the one who caused all these challenges for myself. Therefore, after that day, I learned that even if I'm under a lot of pressure, I should always believe in myself.